. V '-■•? •^ r- 0* ! : <*y £ ^ **> +. THE WORKS OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. COMPLETE IN ONE VOL NEW YORK: EDWARD G. TAYLOR. 128 FULTON STREET. 1846. ^ <& .anga Duko University PREFACE. When first I went into the Church I had a curacy in the middle of Salisbury Plain. The Squire of the parish took a fancy to me, and requested me to go with his son to reside at the University of Weimar ; before we could get there, Germany became the seat of war, and in stress of politics we put into Edinburgh, where I remained five years. The principles of the French Revolution were then fully afloat, and it is im- possible to conceive a more violent and agitated state of society. Among the first per- sons with whom I became acquainted were, Lord Jeffrey, Lord Murray (late Lord Ad- vocate for Scotland), and Lord Brougham; all of them maintaining opinions up«n political subjects a little too liberal for the dynasty of Dundas, then exercising supreme power over the northern division of the island. One day we happened to meet in the eighth or ninth story or flat in Buccleugh-place, the elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey. I proposed that we should set up a Review ; this was acceded to with acclamation. I was appointed Editor, and remained long enough in Edinburgh to edit the first number of the Edinburgh Review. The motto I proposed for the Review was, 1 Tenui musam meditamur avena? i We cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal.' But this was too near the truth to be admitted, and so we took our present grave motto from Publius Syrus, of whom none of us,I am sure, had ever read a single line ; and so be- gan what has since turned out to be a very important and able journal. When I left Ed- inburgh, it fell into the stronger hands of Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, and reached the highest point of popularity and success. I contributed from England many arti- cles, which I have been foolish enough to collect and publish with some other tracts written by me. To appreciate the value of the Edinburgh Review, the state of England at the pe- riod when that journal began should be had in remembrance. The Catholics were not emancipated — the Corporation and Test Acts were unrepealed — the Game Laws were horribly oppressive — Steel Traps and Spring Guns were set all over the country — Prisoners tried for their Lives could have no Counsel — Lord Eldon and the Court of Chancery pressed heavily upon mankind — Libel was punished by the most cruel and vindictive imprisonments — the principles of Political Economy were little understood — the Law of Debt and of Conspiracy were upon the worst possible footing — the enormous wickedness of the Slave Trade was tolerated — a thousand evils were in exis- tence, which the talents of good and able men have since lessened or removed ; and these effects have been not a little assisted by the honest boldness of the Edinburgh Review. I see very little in my Reviews to alter or repent of : I always endeavoured to fight against evil ; and what I thought evil then, I think evil now. I am heartily glad that all our disqualifying laws for religious opinions are abolished, and I see nothing in such measures but unmixed good and real increase of strength to our Establishment. The idea of danger from the extension of the Catholic religion in England I utterly deride. The Catholic faith is a misfortune to the world, but those whose faith it conscientiously is, are quite right in professing it boldly, and in promoting it by all means which the law allows. A physician does not say * You will be well as soon as the bile is got rid 4 PREFACE. of}' but he says ' You will not be well until after the bile is got rid of.' He knows af- ter the cause of the malady is removed, that morbid habits are to be changed, weakness to be supported, organs to be called back to their proper exercise, subordinate mala- dies to be watched, secondary and vicarious symptoms to be studied. The physician is a wise man — but the anserous politician insists, after 200 years of persecution, and ten of emancipation, that Catholic Ireland should be as quiet as Edmonton or Tooting. Not only are just laws wanted for Catholic Ireland, but the just administration of just laws ; such as they have in general experienced under the Whig government ; and this system steadily persevered in will, after a lapse of time, and O'Connell, quite con- ciliate and civilize that long injured and irritable people. I have printed in this Collection the Letters of Peter Plymley. The government of that day took great pains to find out the author ; all that they could find was, that they were brought to Mr. Budd, the publisher, by the Earl of Lauderdale. Somehow or another, it came to be conjectured that I was that author : I have always denied it; but finding that I deny it in vain, I have thought it might be as well to include the Letters in this collection ; they had an immense circulation at the time, and I think above 20,000 copies were sold. From the beginning of the century (about which time the Review began) to the death of Lord Liverpool, was an awful period for those who had the misfortune to en- tertain liberal opinions, and who were too honest to sell them for the ermine of the judge, or the lawn of the prelate : — a long and hopeless career in your profession, the chuckling grin of noodles, the sarcastic leer of the genuine political rogue — prebenda- ries, deans, and bishops made over your head — reverend renegadoes advanced to the highest dignities of the Church, for helping to rivet the fetters of Catholic and Protes- tant Dissenters, and no more chance of a Whig administration than of a thaw in Zem- bla — these were the penalties exacted for liberality of opinion at that period ; and not only was there no pay, but there were many stripes. It is always considered as a piece of impertinence in England, if a man of less than two or three thousand a year has any opinions at all upon important subjects ; and in addition he was sure at that time to be assailed with all the Billingsgate of the French Revolution — Jacobin, Level- ler, Atheist, Deist, Socinian, Incendiary, Regicide, were the gentlest appellations used ; and the man who breathed a syllable against the senseless bigotry of the two Georges, or hinted at the abominable tyranny and persecution exercised upon Catholic Ireland, was shunned as unfit for the relations of social life. Not a murmur against any abuse was permitted; to say a word against the suitorcide delays of the Court of Chancery, or the cruel punishments of the Game Laws, or against any abuse which a rich man inflicted, or a poor man suffered, was treason against the Plousiocracy, and was bitterly and steadily resented. Lord Grey had not then taken off the bearing-rein from the English people, as Sir Francis Head has now done from horses. To set on foot a Journal in such times, to contribute towards it for many years, to bear patiently the reproach and poverty which it caused, and to look back and see that I have nothing to retract, and no intemperance and violence to reproach myself with, is a career of life which I must think to be extremely fortunate. Strange and ludicrous are the changes in human affairs. The Tories are now on the treadmill, and the well- paid Whigs are riding in chariots ; with many faces, however, looking out of the win- dows, (including that of our Prime Minister,) which I never remember to have seen in the days of the poverty and depression of Whiggism. Liberality is now a lucrative business. Whoever has any institution to destroy, may consider himself as a commis- sioner, and his fortune as made ; and to my utter and never ending astonishment, I, an old Edinburgh Reviewer, find myself fighting in the year 1839, against the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London, for the existence of the National Church. SIDNEY SMITH. CONTENTS ARTICLES ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE " EDINBURGH REVIEW." Dr. Parr - Dr. Rennel John Bowles Dr. Langford Archcteacon Nares Matthew Lewis - Australia Fievee's Letters on England Edgeworth on Bulls Trimmer and Lancaster Parnell and Ireland -Methodism Indian Missions Catholics - Methodism Hannah More Professional Education Female Education Public Schcols - Toleration Charles Fox Mad Quakers America - Game Laws Botany Bay Chimney Sweepers America Spring Guns Prisons • - Prisons ^ - ^ Persecuting Bishops Botany Bay Game Laws Cruel Treatment of untried Prisoners America - Bentham on Fallacies Waterton - Man Traps and Spring Guns Hamilton's Method of Teaching Languages Counsel for Prisoners Catholics ..... Neckar's Last Views Catteau, Tableau des Etats Danois Thoughts on the Residence of the Clergy Travels from Palestine - PAGE 7 9 11 12 13 14 15 19 20 21 24 26 45 \ r 48 50 54 59 62 65 71 73 79 83 89 93 102 104 111 117 122 129 132 137 142 149 154 158 165 171 178 183 190 191 Letter on the Curate's Salary Bill PAGB - 192 Proceedings of the Society for the Suppressioi ofVice .... l ■ 195 Characters of Fox . 199 Observations on the Historical Work of th< i Right Hon. Charles James Fox - . 20! Disturbances at Madras • • 207 Bishop of Lincoln's Charge Madame d'Epinay - - Poor-Laws .... . 212 . 215 • 218 Anastasius .... . 223 Scarlett's Poor-Bill - - - . 226 Memoirs of Captain Rock Granby ..... Island of Ceylon .... . 229 ■ 232 . 236 Delphine . . - . - Mission to Ashantee - - • ■ 239 241 Public Characters of 1801, 1802 - 244 Account of New South Wales ib. Wittman's Travels - 248 SPEECHES. Speech on the Catholic Claims • Speech at the Taunton Reform Meeting 251 254 Speech at Taunton at a Meeting to celebrate the Accession of King William IV. - 256 Speech at Taunton in 1831 on the Reform Bill not being passed - - - 257 Speech respecting the Reform Bill - - 258 The Ballot 261 First Letter to Archdeacon Singleton . 267 Second Letter to Archdeacon Singleton - 277 Third Letter to Archdeacon Singleton - - 283 Letter on the Character of Sir James Mack- intosh ..... 287 Letter to Lord John Russell - - - 289 - Sermon on the Duties of the Queen - • 291 The Lawyer that tempted Christ : a Sermon - 293 The Judge that smites contrary to the Law : a Sermon 4 - - . . 29$ A Letter to the Electors upon the Catholic Question ..... 298 A Sermon on the Rules of Christian Charity - 307 Peter Plymley's Letters - . - - 310 WORKS OP THE REY. SIDIEY SMITH. DR. PARR.* (Edinburgh Review, 1802.) 8pital Sermon, preached at Christ Church upon Easter- Tuesday, April 15, 1800. To which are added, Notes by Samuel Parr, LL.D. Printed for J. Mawman in the Poultry. 1801. Whoever has had the good fortune to see Dr. Parr's wig, must have observed, that while it trespasses a lit- tle on the orthodox magnitude of perukes in the ante- rior parts, it scorns even the Episcopal limits behind, and swells out into boundless convexity of frizz, the fteya Bavjta of barbers, and the terror of the literary world. After the manner of his wig, the Doctor has constructed his sermon, giving us a discourse of no lommon length, and subjoining an immeasurable mass of notes, which appear to concern every learned thing, every learned man, and almost every unlearned man since the beginning of the world. For his text, Dr. Parr has chosen Gal. vi. 10. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good to all mm, espe- •Hally to those who are of the household of faith. After a preliminary comparison between the dangers of the selfish system, and the modern one of universal benev- olence, he divides his sermon into two parts : in the first examining how far, by the constitution of human nature, and the circumstances of human life, the prin- ciples f particular and universal benevolence are com- patible : in the last, commenting on the nature of the charitable institution for which he is preaching. The former part is levelled against the doctrines of Mr. Godwin j and, here", Dr. Parr exposes, very strong- ly and happily, the folly of making universal benevo- lence the immediate motive of our actions. As we consi- der this, though of no very difficult execution, to be by far the best part of the sermon, we shall very willingly make some extracts from it. ♦To me it appears, that the modern advocates for uni- versal philanthropy have fallen into the error charged upon those who are fascinated by a violent and extraor- dinary fondness for what a celebrated author calls " some moral species." Some men, it has been remarked, are hurried into romantic adventures, by their excessive ad- miration of fortitude. Others are actuated by a head- strong zeal for disseminating the true religion. Hence, while the only properties, for which fortitude or zeal can be esteemed, are scarcely discernible, from the enormous bulkiness to which they are swollen, the ends to which alone they can be directed usefully, are overlooked or de- * A great scholar, as rude and violent as most Greek scholars are, unless they happen to be Bishops. He has left nothing be- hind him worth leaving : he was rather fitted for the law than the church, and would have been a more considerable man, if he had been more knocked about among his equals. He lived with country gentlemen and clergymen, who flattered and feared him feated ; the public good is impaired, rather than increased ; and the claims that other virtues equally obligatory have to our notice, are totally disregarded. Thus, too, when any dazzling phantoms of universal philanthropy have seized our attention the objects that formerly engaged it shrink and fade. All considerations of kindred, friends, and countrymen drop from the mind, during the struggles it makes to grasp the collective interests of the species ; and when the association that attached us to them has been dissolved, the notions we have formed of their compara- tive insignificance will prevent them from recovering, I do not say any hold whatsoever, but that strong and last- ing hold they once had upon our conviction and our feel- ings. Universal benevolence, should it, from any strange combination of circumstances, ever become, passionate, will like every other passion justify itself: and the impor- tunity of its demands to obtain a hearing will be propor- tionate to the weakness of its cause. But what are the consequences ? A perpetual wrestling for victory between the refinements of sophistry, and the remonstrances of in- dignant nature — the agitations of secret distrust in opinions which gain few or no proselytes, and feelings which excite little or no sympathy— the neglect of all the usual duties, by which social life is preserved or adorned ; and in the pursuit of other duties which are unusual, and indeed ima- ginary, a succession of airy projects, eager hopes, tumultu- ous efforts, and galling disappointments, such, in truth, as every wise man foresaw, and a good man would rarely commiserate.' In a subsequent part of his sermon, Dr. Parr handles the same topic with equal success. * The stoics, it has been said, were more successful in weakening the tender affections, than in animating men to the stronger virtues of fortitude and self-command ; and possible it is, that the influence of our modern reformers may be greater, in furnishing their disciples with pleas for the neglect of their ordinary duties, than in stimulating their endeavours for the performance of those which are extraordinary, and perhaps ideal. If, indeed, the repre- sentations we have lately heard of universal philanthropy served only to amuse the fancy of those who approve of them, and communicate that pleasure which arises from contemplating the magnitude and grandeur of a favourite subject, we might be tempted to smile at them as groundless and harmless. But they tend to debase the dignity, and to weaken the efficacy of those particular affections, for which we have daily and hourly occasion in the events of real life. They tempt us to substitute the ease of speculation, and the pride of dogmatism, for the toil of practice. To a class of artificial and ostentatious sentiments, they give the most dangerous triumph over the genuine and salutary dic- tates of nature. They delude and inflame our minds witn Pharisaical notions of superior wisdom and superior vir- tue ; and what is the worst of all, they may be used as '« • cloketo us" for insensibility, where other men feel : and for negligence, where other' men act with visible and uf- fvl, though limited, effect.' xn attempting to show/the connection between parti* WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. cular and universal benevolence, Dr. Parr does not ap- pear to us to have taken a clear and satisfactory view of the subject. Nature impels us both to good and bad actions ; and even in the former, gives us no measure by which we may prevent them from degene- rating into excess. Rapine and revenge are not less natural than parental and filial affection ; which latter class of feelings may themselves be a source of crimes, if they overpower (as they frequently do) the sense of justice. It is not therefore, a sufficient justifica- tion of our actions, that they are natural. We must seek, from our reason, some principle which will enable us to determine what impulses of na- ture we are to obey, and what we are to resist : such is tbat of general utility, or, what is the same thing, of universal good ; a principle which sanctifies and limits the more particular affections. The duty of a son to a parent, or a parent 10 a son, is not an ulti- mate principle of morals, but depends on the principle of universal good, and is only praiseworthy because it is found to promote it. At the same time, our spheres of action and intelligence are so confined, that it is bet- ter in a great majority of instances, to suffer our con- duct to be guided by those affections which have been long sanctioned by the approbation of mankind, than to enter into a process of reasoning, and investigate the re- lation which every trifling event might bear to the gene- ral interests of the world. In his principle of universal benevolence, Mr. Godwin is unquestionably right. That it is the grand principle upon which* all morals rest — that it is the corrective for the excess of all particular affections, we believe to be undeniable : and he is only erroneous in excluding the particular affections, be- cause, in so doing, he deprives us of our most power- ful means of promoting his own principle of universal good ; for it is as much as to say, that all the crew ought to have the general welfare of the ship so much at heart, that no sailor should ever pull any particular rope, or hand any individual sail. By universal benevolence, we mean, and understand Dr. Parr to mean, not a barren affection for the species, but a desire to promote their real happiness j and of this principle, he thus speaks : copied from the Upholsterer in Foote's Farces, who sits up whole nights watching over the British constitution, we shall not stop to inquire ; when the practical effect of sentiments is good, we would not diminish their merits by investigating their origin. We seriously commend in Mr. Bowles this future dedication of his life to the service of his King and country; and consider it as a virtual promise that he will write no more in their defence. No wise or good man has ever; thought of either, but with admiration and respect. That they should be exposed to that ridicule, by the. forward imbecility of friendship, from which theyv appear to be protected by intrinsic worth, is so painful a consideration, that the very thought of it. we are persuaded, will induce Mr. Bowles to desist from writing on political subjects. DR. LANGFORD. (Edinburgh Review, 1802.) Anniversary Sermon of the Royal Humane Society. By W. Langford, D. D. Printedfor F. and C. Rivfngton. An accident, which happened to the gentleman en. gaged in reviewing this sermon proves, in the most striking manner, the importance of this charity forr restoring to life persons in. whom the vital power it » ARCHDEACON NARES. IS suspended. He was discovered, with Dr. Langford's* discourse lying open before him, in a state of the most profound sleep, from which he could not, by any means, be awakened for a great great length of time. By attending, however, to the rules prescribed by the Humane Society, flinging in the smoke of tobacco, applying hot flannels, and carefully removing the dis- course itself to a great distance, the critic was restored to his disconsolate brothers. The only account he could give of himself was, that he remembers reading on, regularly, till he came to the following pathetic description of a drowned trades- man, beyond which he recollects nothing. « But to the individual himself, as a man, let us add the interruption to all the temporal business in which his inte- rest was engaged. To him indeed now apparently lost, the world is as nothing ; but it seldom happens, that man can live for himself "alone: society parcels out its concerns in Various connections; and from one head issue waters which run down in many channels. The spring being sud- denly cut off, what confusion must follow in the streams which have flowed from its source? It maybe, that all the expectations reasonably raised of approaching prosperi- ty, to those who have embarked in the same occupation, may at once disappear; and the important interchange of commercial faith be broken off, before it could be brought to any advantageous conclusion.' This extract will suffice for the style of the sermon. The charity itself is above all praise. ARCHDEACON NARES.* (Edinburgh Review, 1802.) A Thanksgiving for Plenty, and Warning against Avarice. A Sermon. By the Reverend Robert Nares, Archdeacon of Stafford, and Canon Residentiary of Litchfield. Lon- don: Printed for the Author, and sold by Rivingtons, St. Paul's Churchyard. For the swarm of ephemeral sermons which issue from the press, we are principally indebted to the vani- ty of popular preachers, who are puffed up by female praises into a belief, that what may be delivered, with great propriety, in a chapel full of visitors and friends, is fit for the deliberate attention of the public, who cannot be influenced by the decency of a clergyman's private life, flattered by the sedulous politeness of his manners, or misled by the fallacious circumstances of voice and action. A clergyman cannot be always con- sidered as reprehensible for preaching an indifferent sermon ; because, to the active piety, and correct life, which the profession requires, many an excellent man may not unite talents for that species of composition ; but every man who prints, imagines he gives to the world something which they had not before, either in matter or style ; that he has brought forth new truths, or adorned old ones ; and when, in lieu of novelty and ornament, we can discover nothing but trite imbecility, the law must take its course, and the delinquent suffer that mortification from which vanity can rarely be ex- pected to escape, when it chooses dulness for the mini- ster of its gratifications. The learned author, after observing that a large army praying would be a much finer spectacle than a large army fighting, and after entertaining us with the old anecdote of Xerxes, and the flood of tears, proceeds to express his sentiments on the late scarcity, and the present abundance : then, stating the manner in which the Jews were governed by the immediate interference of God, and informing us, that other people expect not, nor are taught to look for, miraculous interference, to mulish or reward them, he proceeds to talk of the visi- tation of Providence, for the purposes of trial, warn- ing, and correction, as if it were a truth of which he had never doubted Still, however, he contends, though the Deity does • To this exceedingly foolish man, the first years of Etonian Education were intrusted. How is it possible to Inflict a greater misfortune on a country, than to fill up Men an office with such an officer? f This was another gentleman of the alarmist tribe. . interfere, it would be presumptuous and impious to pronounce the purposes for which he interferes ; and then adds, that it has pleased God, within these few years, to give us a most awful lesson of the vanity of agriculture and importation without piety, and that he has proved this to the conviction of every thinking mind. 1 Though he interpose not (says Mr. Nares) by posi- tive miracle, he influences by means unknown to all but himself, and directs the winds, the rain, and the glorious beams of heaven to execute his judgment, ot fulfil his merciful designs.' — Now, either the wind, the ram, and the beams, are here represented to act as they do in the ordinary course of nature, or they are not. If they are, how can their operations be consid- ered as a judgment on sins ? and if they are not, what are their extraordinary operations, but positive mira- cles ? So that the Archdeacon, after denying that any body knows when, how, and why the Creator works a miracle, proceeds to specify the time, instrument, and object of a miraculous scarcity ; and then, assuring us that the elements were employed to execute the judg- ments of Providence, denies that this is any proof of a positive miracle. Having given us this specimen of his talents for theological metaphysics, Mr. Nares commences his attack upon the farmers ; accuses them of cruelty and avarice; raises the old cry of monoply; and expresses some doubts, in a note, whether the better way would not be, to subject their granaries to the control of an exciseman ; and to levy heavy penalties upon those, in whose possession corn, beyond a certain quantity to be fixed by law, should be found. — This style of rea- soning is pardonable enough in those who argue from the belly rather than the brains ; but in a well fed, and well educated clergyman, who has never been disturb- ed by hunger from the free exercise of cultivated talents, it merits the severest reprehension. The far- mer has it not in his power to raise the price of corn ; he never has fixed and never can fix it. He is unques- tionably justified in receiving any price he can obtain : for it happens very beautifully, that the effect of his efforts to better his fortune, is as beneficial to the pub- lic, as if their motive had not been selfish. The poor are not to be supported, in time of famine, by abatement of price on the part of the farmer, but by the subscrip- tion of residentiary canons, archdeacons, and all men rich in public or private property ; and to these sub- scriptions the farmer should contribute according to the amount of his fortune. To insist that he should take a less price when he can obtain a greater, is to insist upon laying on that order of men the whole bur- den of supporting the poor ; a convenient system enough in the eyes of a rich ecclesiastic ; and objec tionable only, because it is impracticable, pernicious, and unjust.* The question of the com trade has divided society into two parts — those who have any talents for reason, ing, and those who have not. We owe an apology to our readers, for taking any notice of errors that have been so frequently, and so unanswerably exposed ; but when they are echoed from the bench and the pulpit, the dignity of the teacher may perhaps communicate some degree of importance to the silliest and most extravagant doctrines. t No reasoning can be more radically erroneous than that upon which the whole of Mr. Nares's sermon is founded. The most benevolent, the most Christian, and the most profitable conduct the farmer can pur- sue, is, to sell his commodities for the highest price he can possibly obtain. This advice, we think, is not in any great danger of being rejected : we wish we were equally sure of success in counselling the Reverend Mr. Nares to attend, in future, to practical, rather than theoretical questions about provisions. * If it is pleasant to notice the intellectual growth of an individual, it is still more pleasant to see the public grow- ing wiser. This absurdity of attributing the high price of corn to the combinations of farmers, was the common non- sense talked in the days of my youth. I remember when ten judges out of twelve laid down this doctrine in their charges to the various grand juries on the circuits, Th » lowest attorney J $lerk is now better instructed. 14 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. He may bo a very hospitable archdeacon ; but noth- ing short of a positive miracle can make him an acute reasoner. , MATTHEW LEWIS. (Edinburgh Review, 1803.) Alfonso King of Castile. A Tragedy, in five Acts. By M. G. Lewis. Price 2s. 6d. Alfonso, king of Castile, had, many years previ- ous to the supposed epoch of the play, left his mini- ster and general, Orsino, to perish in prison, from a false accusation of treason. Caesario, son to Orsino, (who by accident had liberated Amelrosa, daughter of Alfonso, from the Moors, and who is married to her, unknown to the father,) becomes a great favour- ite with the King, and avails himself of the command of the armies with which he is intrusted, to gratify his revenge for his father's misfortunes, to forward his own ambitious views, and to lay a plot by which he may deprive Alfonso of his throne and his life. Marquis Guzman, poisoned by his wife Ottilia in love with Caesario, confesses to the King that the papers upon which the suspicion of Orsino's guilt was found- ed, were forged by him : and the King, learning from his daughter Amelrosa that Orsino is still alive, re- pairs to his retreat in the forest, is received with the most implacable hauteur and resentment, and in vain implores forgiveness of his injured minister. To the same forest, Caesario, informed of the existence of his father, repairs, and reveals his intended plot against the King. Orsino, convinced of Alfonso's goodness to his subjects, though incapable of forgiving him for his unintentional injuries to himself, in vain dissuades his son from the conspiracy ; and at last, ignorant of their marriage, acquaints Amelrosa with the plot formed by her husband against her father. Amel- rosa, already poisoned by Ottilia, in vain, attempts to prevent Caesario from blowing uo a mine laid under the royal palace ; information of which sbe had re- ceived from Ottilia, stabbed by Caesario to avoid her importunity. In the mean time, the King ha J been removed from the palace by Orsino, to his ancient retreat in the forest : the people rise against the usurper Caesario ; a battle takes place : Orsino stabs his own son, at the moment the King is in his son's power ; falls down from the wounds he has received m battle ; and dies in the usual dramatic style, re- peating twenty-two hexameter verses. Mr. Lewis says in his preface — « To the assertion, that my play is stupid, I have nothing to object ; if it he found so, even let it be so said ; but if (as was most falsely asserted of Adelmorn) any anonymous writer should advance that this Tragedy is immoral, I ex- pect him to prove his assertion l>y quoting the objectionable passages. This I demand as an act of justice.' We confess ourselves to have been highly delighted with these symptoms of returning, or perhaps nascent purity in the mind of Mr. Lewis — a delight somewhat impaired, to be sure, at the opening of the play, by the following explanation which Ottilia gives of her early rising. * ACT I. Scene I. — The palace garden. — Day-break. Ottilia enters in a night-dress : her hair flows dishevelled. Ottil. Dews of the morn descend! Breathe, summer gales : My Hushed cheeks woo ye ! Play, sweet wantons, play 'Mid my loose tresses, fan my panting breast, Quench my blood's burning fever ! — Vain, vain prayer ! Not Winter throned 'midst Alpine snows, whose will Can with one breath, one touch, congeal whole realms, And blanch whole seas : not that fiend's self could ease This heart, this gulf of flames, his purple kingdom, Where passion rules and rages!' Ottilia at last becomes quite furious, from the convic- t ioa that Caesario has been sleeping with a second lady, called Estella ; whereas be has really been sleeping with a third lady, called Amelrosa. Passing across the stage ; this gallant gentleman takes an opportunity of mentioning to the audience that he has been passing his time very agreeably, meets Cttilia, quarrels, makes it up ; and so end the first two or three scenes. Mr. Lewis will excuse us for the liberty we tak* fat commenting on a few passages in his play which ap. pear to us rather exceptionable. The only information which Caesario, imagining his father to have been dead for many years, receives of his existence, is in the fol- lowing short speech of Melchior. 1 Milch. The Count San Lucar, long thought dead, buts* ved, It seems, by Ainelrosa's care. — Time presses — I must away : farewell.' To this laconic, but important information, Caesario makes no reply, but merely desires Melchior to meet him at one o'clock, under the Royal Tower, and for some other purposes. In the few cases which have fallen under our obser- vation, of fathers restored to life after a supposed death of twenty years, the parties concerned have, on the first information, appeared a little surprised, and gene- rally asked a few questions — though we do not go the length of saying it is natural to do so. This same Cat - sario, (whose love of his father is a principal cause f his conspiracy against the King) begins criticising- the old warrior, upon his first seeing him again, much as a virtuoso would criticise an old statue that wanted an arm or a leg. ' Orsino enters from the cave. CjEsario. Now by my life A noble ruin !' Amelrosa, who imagines her father to have banished her from his presence for ever, in the first transports of pardon, obtained by earnest intercessions, thus ex- claims : — ' Lend thy doves, dear Venus, That I may send them where Caesario strays-: And while he smooths their silver wings, and gives them For drink the honey of his lips, I'll bid them Coo in his ear, his Amelrosa's happy !' What judge of human feelings does not recognize in these images of silver wings, doves and honey, the ge- nuine language of the passions ? If Mr. Lewis is really in earnest in pointing out the coincidence between his own dramatic sentiments and the Gospel of St. Matthew, such a reference (wide as we know this assertion to be) evinces a want of judg- ment of which we did not think him capable . If it pro. ceeded from irreligious levity, we pity the man who has bad taste enough not to prefer honest dulness to such paltry celebrity. We beg leave to submit to Mr. Lewis, if Alfonso, considering the great interest he has in the decision, might not interfere a little in the long argument carried on between Caesario and Orsino, upon the propriety of putting him to death. To have expressed any decisive opinion upon the subject, might perhaps have been incorrect ; but a few gentle hints as to that side of the question to which he leaned, might be fairly allowed to be no very unnatural incident. This tragedy delights in explosions. Alfonso's em- pire is destroyed by a blast of gunpowder, and re- stored by a clap of thunder. After the death of Cae- sario, and a short exhortation to that purpose by Orsino, all the conspirators fall down in a thunder- clap, ask pardon of the king, and are forgiven. This mixture of physical and moral power is beautiful ! How interesting a water-spout would appear among Mr. Lewis's kings and queens ! We anxiously look forward, in his next tragedy, to a fall of snow three or four feet deep ; or expect that a plot shall gradually unfold itself by means of a general thaw. All is not so bad in this play. There is some strong painting, which shows, every now and then, the hand of a master. The agitation which Caesario exhibits upon his first joining the conspirators in a cave, pre- vious to the blowing up of the mine, and immediately after stabbing Ottilia, is very fine. ' C/esario. ' Ay, shout, shout, And kneeling greet your blood-annointed king, This steel his sceptre ! Tremble, dwarfs in guilt, And own your master! Thou art proof, Henriquez, 'Gainst pity ; I once »aw thee stab in battle A pa«e who clasped thy knees: And Melchoir there Made quick work with a brother whom he hated. But what did I this night ? Hear, hear, and reverence' AUSTRALIA. lb There -was a breast on which my head had rested A thousand times ; a breast which loved me fondly As heaven loves martyred saints : and yet this breast I stabbed, knave — stabbed it to the heart— Wine! wine there ? For my soul's joyous !' — p. 86. The resistance which Amelrosa opposes to the firing of the mine, is well wrought out ; and there is some good poetry scattered up and down the play, of which we should very willingly make extracts if our limits would permit. The ill success which it has justly experienced, is owing, we have no doubt, to the want of nature in the characters, and of probability and good arrangement in the incidents ; objections of some force. AUSTRALIA. (Edinburgh Review, 1803.) Account of the English Colony of New South Wales. By Lieutenant-Colonel Collins of the Royal Marines. Vol. II. 4to. Cadell and Davies, London. To introduce an European population, and, conse- quently, the arts and civilization of Europe, into such an untrodden country as New Holland, is to confer a lasting and important benefit upon the world. If man be destined for perpetual activity, and if the proper objects of that activity be the subjugation of physical difficulties, and of his own dangerous passions, how absurd are those systems which proscribe the acquisi- tions of science and the restraints of law, and would arrest the progress of man in the rudest and earliest stages of his existence ! Indeed, opinions so very extravagant in their nature must be attributed rather to the wantonness of paradox, than to sober reflection and extended inquiry. To suppose the savage state permanent, we must suppose the numbers of those who compose it to be stationary, and the various passions by which men have actually emerged from it to be extinct ; and this is to suppose man a very different being from what he really is. To prove such a permanence beneficial, (if it were possible), we must have recourse to matter of fact, and judge of the rude state of society, not from the praises ot tranquil literati, but from the narratives of those who have seen it through a nearer and better medium than that of imagination. There is an argu- ment, however, for the continuation of evil, drawn from the ignorance of good ; by which it is contended, that to teach men their situation can be better, is to teach them that it is bad, and to destroy that happi- ness which always results from an ignorance that any greater happiness is within our reach. All pains and pleasures are clearly by comparison ; but the most de- £lorable savage enjoys a sufficient contrast of good, to now that the grosser evils from which civilization rescues him are evils. A New Hollander seldom pas- ses a year without suffering from famine ; the small- pox falls upon him like a plague ; he dreads those calamities, though he does not know how to avert them; but, doubtless, would find his happiness in- creased, it they were averted. To deny this, is to sup- pose that men are reconciled to evils because they are inevitable ; and yet hurricanes, earthquakes, bodily decay, and death, stand highest in the catalogue of human calamities. Where civilization gives new birth to new compari- sons unfavourable to savage life, with the information that a greater good is possible, it generally connects the means of attaining it. The savage no sooner be- comes ashamed of his nakedness than the loom is ready to clothe him ; the forge prepares for him more perfect tools, when he is disgusted with the awkward- ness of his own; his weakness is strengthened, and his wants are supplied as soon as they are discovered ; and the use of the discovery is, that it enables him to derive from comparison the best proof of present happiness. A man born blind is ignorant of the pleasures of which he is deprived. After the restoration of his sight his happiness will be increased from two causes ; — from the delight he experiences at the novel accession of power, and from the contrast he will always be enabled to make between his two situations; long after the plea- sure of novelty has ceased. For these reasons, it is humane to restore him to sight. But ; hcwever beneficial to the general interests of mankind the civilization of barbarous countries may be, in this particular instance of it, the interest of Great Britain would seem to have been very little con- sulted. With fanciful schemes of universal good we have no business to meddle. Why are we to erect Eenitentiary houses and prisons at the distance of alf the diameter of the globe, and to incur the enor- mous expense of transporting their inhabitants to and at such a distance, it is extremely difficult to discover. It certainly is not from any deficiency of barren is- lands on our own coast, nor of uncultivated wastes in the interior ; and if we were sufficiently fortunate to be wanting in such species of accomodation, we might discover in Canada, or the West Indies, or on the coast of Africa, a climate malignant enough, or a soil sufficiently sterile, to revenge all the injuries which have been inflicted on society by pick-pockets, lar- cenists, and petty felons. Upon the foundation of a new colony, and especially one peopled by criminals, there is a disposition in Government (where any cir- cumstance in the commission of the crime affords the least pretence for the commutation) to convert capital punishment into transportation ; and by these means to hold forth a very dangerous, though certainly a very unintentional encouragement to offences. And when the history of the colony has been attentively perused in the parish of St. Giles, the ancient avoca- tion of picking pockets will certainly not become more discreditable from the knowledge that it may even- tually lead to the possession of a farm of a thousand acres on the river Hawkesbury. Since the benevolent Howard attacked our prisons, incarceration has not only become healthy but elegant ; and a county jail is precisely the place to which any pauper might wish to retire to gratify his taste for magnificence as well as for comfort. Upon the same principle, there is some risk that transportation will be considered as one of the surest roads to honour and to wealth ; and that no felon will hear a verdict of ' not guilty' without considering himself as cut off in the fairest career of prosperity. It is foolishly believed, that the colony of Botany Bay unites our moral and commercial inte- rests, and that we shall receive hereafter an ample equivalent, in bales of goods, for all the vices we ex- port. Unfortunately, the expenses we have incurred in founding the colony, will not retard the natural pro- gress of its emancipation, or prevent the attacks of other nations, who will be as desirous of reaping the fruit, as if they had sown the seed. It is a colony, besides, begun under every possible disadvantage ; it is too distant to be long governed, or well defended ; it is undertaken, not by the voluntary association of in- dividuals, but by Government, and by means of com- pulsory labour. A nation must, indeed, be redundant in capital, that will expend it where the hopes of a just return are so very small. It may be a very curious consideration what we are to do with this colony when it comes to years of dis- cretion. Are we to spend another hundred millions of money in discovering its strength, and to humble ourselves again before a fresh set of Washingtons and Franklins. The moment after we have suffered such serious mischief from the escape of the old tiger, we are breeding up a young cub, whom we cannot ren- cer less ferocious or more secure. If we are gradual- ly to manumit the colony, as it is more and more ca* pable of protecting itself, the degrees of emancipation, and the periods at which they are to take place, will be judged of very differently by the two nations. But we confess ourselves not to be so sanguine as to sup- pose, that a spirited and commercial people would, in spite of the example of America, ever consent to aban- don their sovereignty over an important colony with- out a struggle. Endless blood and treasure will be exhausted to support a tax on kangaroos' skins ; faithful Commons will go on voting fresh supplies to support a just and necessary war ; and Newgate, then become a quarter of the world, will evince a heroism, not unworthy of the great characters by whom she was originally peopled. 16 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. The experiment, however, is not less interesting in a moral, because it is objectionable in a commercial point of view. It is an object of the highest curiosity, thus to have the growth of a nation subjected to our examination ; to trace it by such faithful records, from the first day of its existence ; and to gather that knowledge of the progress of human affairs, from ac- tual experience, which is considered to be only ac- cessible to the conjectural reflections of enlightened minds. Human nature, under very old governments, is so trimmed, and pruned, and ornamented, and led into such a variety of factitious shapes, that we are almost ignorant of the appearance it would assume, if it were left more to itself. From such an experiment as that now before us, we shall be better able to appreciate what circumstances of our situation are owing to those permanent laws by which all men are influenced, and what to the accidental positions in which we have been placed. New circumstances will throw new light upon the effects of our religious, political, and economical institutions, if we cause them to be adop- ted as models in our rising empire ; and if we do not, we shall estimate the effects of their presence, by ob- serving those which are produced by their non-exist- ence. The history of the colony is at present, however, in its least interesting state, on account of the great pre- ponderance of depraved inhabitants, whose crimes and irregularities give a monotony to the narrative, which it cannot lose, till the respectable part of the com- munity come to bear a greater proportion to the crimi- nal. These Memoirs of Colonel Collins resume the history of the colony from the period at which he concluded it in his former volume, September, 1796, and conti- nue it down to August 1S01. They are written in the style of a journal, which though not the most agreeable mode of conveying information, is certainly the most authentic, and contrives to banish the suspicion, and most probably the reality, of the interference of a book- maker — a species of gentlemen who are now almost be- come necessary to deliver naval and military authors in their literary labours, though they do not always atone, by orthography and grammar, for the sacrifice of truth and simplicity. Mr. Collins's book appears to be written with great plainness and candour ; he appears to be a man always meaning well ; of good, plain, com- mon sense ; and composed of those well-wearing mate- rials which adapt a person for situations where genius and refinement would only prove a source of misery and of error. We shall proceed to lay before our readers an ana- lysis of the most important matter contained in this vo- lume. The natives in the vicinity of Port Jackson stand ex- tremely low, in point of civilization, when compared with many other savages with whom the discoveries of Captain Cook have made us acquainted. Their no- tions of religion exceed even that degree of absurdity which we are led to expect in the creed of a barbarous people. In politics they appear to be scarcely advan- ced beyond family-government. Huts they have none ; and, in all their economical inventions, there is a rudeness and deficiency of ingenuity, unpleasant, when contrasted with the instances of dexterity with which the descriptions and importations of our navigators have rendered us so familiar. Their numbers appear to us to be very small : a fact, at once, indicative either of the ferocity of manners in any people, or more probably, of the sterility of their country ; but which, in the present instance proceeds from both these causes. * Gaining every day (says Mr. Collins) some further knowledge of the inhuman habits and customs of these peo- ple, their being so thinly scattered through the country ceased to be a matter of surprise. It was almost daily seen, that from some trifling cause or other, they were continu- ally living in a state of warfare: to this must be added their brutal treatment of their women, who are themselves equally destructive to the measure of population, by the horrid and cruel custom of endeavouring to cause a miscar *iage, which their female acquaintances effect by pressing the body in such a way, as to destroy the infant in the womb; which violence not unfrequently occasions the death of the unnatural mother also. To this they have re- course to avoid the trouble of carrying the infant about when born, which, when it is very young, or at the breast, is the duty of the woman. The operation for this destruc- tive purpose is termed Mee-bra. The burying an infant (when at the breast) with the mother, if she should die, is another shocking cause of the thinness of population among them. The fact that such an operation as the Mee-bra was practised by these wretched people, was communicated by one of the natives to the principal surgeon of the settle ment.'— (p. 124, 125.) It is remarkable, that the same paucity of numbers has been observed in every part of New Holland which has hitherto been explored ; and yet there is not the smallest reason to conjecture that the population of it has been very recent j nor do the people bear any marks of descent from the inhabitants of the numerous islands by which this great continent is surrounded. The force of population can only be resisted by some great physical evils ; and many of the causes of this scarcity of human beings which Mr. Collins refers to the ferocity of the natives, are ultimately referable to the difficulty of support. We have always considered this phenomenon as a symptom extremely unfavoura- ble to the future destinies of this country. It is easy to launch out into eulogiums of the fertility of nature in particular spots ; but the most probable reason why a country that has been long inhabited, is not well in- habited, is, that it is not calculated to support many inhabitants without great labour. It is difficult to suppose any other causes powerful enough to resist the impetuous tendency of man, to obey that mandate for increase and multiplication, which has certainly been better observed than any other declaration of the Di- vine will ever revealed to us. There appears to be some tendency to civilization, and some tolerable notions of justice, in a practice very similar to our custom of duelling ; for duelling, though barbarous in civilized, is a highly civilized institution among barbarous people : and when compared to as- sassination, is a prodigious victory gained over human passions. Whoever kills another in the neighbourhood of Botany Bay, is compelled to appear at an appointed day before the friends of the deceased, and to sustain the attacks ot their missile weapons. If he is killed, he is deemed to have met with a deserved death ; if not, he is considered to have expiated the crime for the commission of which he was exposed to danger. There is in this institution a command over present impulses, a prevention of secrecy in the gratification of revenge, and a wholesome correction of that passion by the effect of public observation, which evince a su- periority to the mere animal passions ol ordinary sava- ges, and form such a contrast to the rest of the history of this people, that it may be considered as altogether an anomalous and inexplicable fact. The natives differ very much in the progress they have made in the arts of economy. Those to the north of Port Jackson evince a considerable degree of ingenuity and contri- vance in the structure of their houses, which are ren- dered quite impervious to the weather, while the in- habitants at Port Jackson have no houses at all. At Port Dalrymple, in Van Dieman's Land, there was eve- ry reason to believe the natives were unacquainted with the use of canoes ; a fact extremely embarrassing to those who indulge themselves in speculating on the genealogy of nations ; because it reduces them to the necessity of supposing that the progenitors of this in- sular people swam over from the main land, or that . they were aboriginal ; a species of dilemma, which effectually bars all conjecture upon the intermixture of ! nations. It is painful to learn, that the natives have begun to plunder and rob in so very alarming a man- ner that it has been repeatedly found necessary to fire upon them ; and many have, in consequence, fallen victims to their rashness. The soil is found to produce coal in vast abundance, ! salt, lime, very fine iron ore, timber fit for all purposes, excellent flax, and a tree, the bark of which is admira- bly adapted for cordage. The discovery of coal (which, by the by, we do not believe was ever before discovered so near the line) is probably rather a disad* AUSTRALIA. 17 vantage than an advantage ; because, as it lies extreme- ly favourable for sea carriage, it may prove to be a cheaper fuel than wood, and thus operate as a discour- agement to the clearing of lands. The soil upon the sea coast, has not been found to be very productive, though it improves in partial spots in the interior. The climate is healthy, in spite of the prodigious heat of the summer months, at which period the thermometer has been observed to stand in the shade at 107, and the leaves of garden vegetables to fall into dust, as it' they had been consumed with fire. But one of the most insuperable defects in New Holland, considered as the future country of a great people, is, the want of large rivers penetrating very far into the interior, and navigable for small crafts. The Hawkesbury, the largest river, yet discovered, is not accessible to boats for more than twenty miles. The same river occa- sionally rises above its natural level, to the astonishing height of fifty feet ; and has swept away more than once, the labours and the hopes of the new people ex- iled to its banks. The laborious acquisition of any good we have long enjoj'ed is apt to be forgotten. We walk, and talk, and run and read, without remembering the long and severe labour dedicated to the cultivation of these powers, the formidable obstacles opposed to our pro- gress, or the infinite satisfaction with which we over- came them. He who lives among a civilized people, may estimate the labour by which society has been brought into such a state by reading these annals of Botany Bay, the account of a whole nation exert- ing itself to new floor the government-house, repair the hospital, or build a wooden receptacle for stores. Yet the time may come, when some Botany Bay Tacitus shall record the crimes of an emperor lineally descend- ed from a London pick-pocket, or paint the valour with which he has led his New Hollanders into the heart of China. At that period, when the Grand Lahma is sending to supplicate alliance ; when the spice islands are purchasing peace with nutmegs ; when enormous tributes of green tea and nankeen are wafted into Port Jackson, and landed on the quays of Sydney, who will ever remember that the sawing of a few planks, and the knocking together a few nails, were such a serious trial of the energies and resources of the nation. The Government of the colony, after enjoying some little respite from this kind of labour, has begun to turn its attention to the coarsest and most neces- sary species of nr.au.ufactures, for which their wool appears to be well adapted. The state of stock in the whole settlement, in* Jane 1801, was about 7,000 sheep, 1 ,300 head of cattle, 250 horses, and 5,000 hogs. There were under cultivation at the same time, be- tween 9 and 10,000 acres of corn. Three years and a-half before this, in December 1797, the numbers were as follows : — Sheep, 2,500 ; cattle, 350 ; horses, 100 ; hogs, 4,300 ; acres of land in cultivation, 4,000. The temptation to salt pork, and sell it for Govern- ment store, is probably the reason why the breed of hogs has been so much kept under. The increase of cultivated lands between the two periods is prodigious. It appears (p. 319,) that the whole number of con- victs imported between January 1788 and June 1801 (a period of thirteen years and a half,) has been about 5,000, of whom 1 ,157 were females. The total amount of the population on the continent, as well as at Nor- folk Island, amounted, June 1801, to 6,500 persons ; of these 766 were children born at Port Jackson. In the returns from Norfolk Island, children are not dis- criminated from adults. Let us add to the imported population of 5,000 convicts, 500 free people, which (if we consider that a regiment of soldiers has been kept up there) is certainly a very small allowance ; then, in thirteen years and. a half, the imported popu- lation has increased only by two-thirteenths. If we suppose that something more than a fifth of the free people were women, this will make the total of women 1,270 ; of whom we may fairly presume that 800 were capable of child-bearing ; and if we suppose the chil- dren of Norfolk Island to bear the same proportion to the adults as at Port Jackson, their total number at high eulogiums which have been made on th* fertility of the female sex in the climate of New Holland. The Governor, who appears on all occasions to be an extremely well-dis, oscd man, is not quite so con- versant in the best wk tings on political economy as we could wish : and indeed (though such knowledge would be extremely serviceable to the interests which this Romulus of the Southern Pole is superintending,) it is rather unfair to exact from a superintendent of pick-pockets, that he should be a philosopher. In the 18th page we have the following information respect- ing the price of labour :— 'Some representations having been made to the Go- vernor from the settlers in different parts of the colony, purporting that the wages demanded by the free labouring- people, whom they had occasion to hire, were so exorbitant as to run away with the greatest part of the profit of their farms, it was recommended to them to appoint quarterly meetings among themselves, to be held in each district, for the purpose of settling the rate of wages to labourers in every different kind of work ; that, to this end, a written, agreement should be entered into, and subscribed by each settler, a breach of which should be punished by a penalty, to be fixed by the general opinion, and made recoverable in. a court of civil judicature. It was recommended to them to apply this forfeiture to the common benefit; and they were to transmit to the head-quarters a copy -of their agreement, with the rate of wages which they should from time to time establish, for the Governor's information, holding their first meeting as early as possible.' And again, at p. 24, the following arrangements on that head are enacted : — ' In pursuance of the order which was issued in January last recommending the settlers to appoint meetings, at which they should fix the rate of wages that it might be proper to pay for the different kinds of labour which their farms should require, the settlers had submitted to the Go- vernor the several resolutions that they had entered mto, by which he was enabled to fix a rate that he conceived to be fair and equitable between the farmer and the labourer. 'The following ed, viz. prices of labour were now establish^ Felling forest timber, per acre - Ditto in brush ground, ditto - Burning off open ground, ditto - Ditto brush ground, ditto - Breaking up new groimd, ditto - Chipping fresh ground, ditto - Chipping in wheat, ■ ditto ... Breaking up stubble or corn ground, 1 l-4d. per rod, or ditto - Planting Indian corn, ditto - Hilling ditto ditto - Reaping wheat, ditto - Thrashing ditto, per bushel, Pulling and husking Indian corn,per bushel Splitting paling of seven feet long^per h'd Ditto of five feet long, ditto Sawing plank, ditto Ditching, per rod, three feet wide and three feet deep » Carriage of wheat, per bushel, per mile - Ditto Indian corn, neat .... Yearly wages for labour, with board Wages per week, with provisions, consist- ing of 3 lb. of salt pork, or 6 lb. of fresh, and 21 lb. of wheat with vegetables A day's wages with board .... Ditto without board A government-man allowed to officers or settlers in their own time Price of an axe New steeling ditto * A new hoe A sickle Hire of a boat to carry grain per day 'The settlers were reminded, that, in order to prevent any kind of dispute between the master and servant, when they should have occasion to hire a man for any length of time, they would find it most convenient to engage him £ s. d 9 10 6 1 5 1 10 1 4 12 3 7 16 8 7 7 10 9 6 3 1 6 7 10 2 3 10 6 1 2 6 10 2 6 1 9 1 6 5 tne aouits as at Fori jacKSon, ineir roiai nunmer ax for a quar ter, half-year, or year, and to make their agrea- both settlements will be 913 ;— a state of infantine ment in writing ; on which, should any dispute arise, an population which certainly does not justify the very ' appeal to the magistrates would settle it.* IS WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITE. This is all very bad ; and if the Governor had cher- ished the intention of destroying the colony, he could have done nothing more detrimental to its interests. The high price of labour is the very corner-stone on which the prosperity of a new colony depends. It enables the poor man to live with ease ; and is the strongest incitement to population, by rendering chil- dren rather a source of riches than of poverty. If the same difficulty of subsistence existed in new countries as in old, it is plain that the progress of population would be equally slow in each. The very circum- stances which cause the difference are, that, in the latter, there is a competition among the labourers to be employed ; and, in the former, a competition among the occupiers of land to obtain labourers. In the one, land is scarce and men plenty ; in the other, men are scarce and land is plenty. To disturb this natural order of things (a practice injurious at all times) must be particularly so where the predominant disposition of the colonist is an aversion to labour, produced by a j.ong course of dissolute habits. In such cases the high prices of labour, which the Governor was so de- sirous of abating, bid fair not only to increase the agricultural prosperity, but to effect the moral refor- mation of the colony. We observe the same unfor- tunate ignorance of the elementary principles of com- merce in the attempts of the Governor to reduce the prices of the European commodities, by bulletins and authoritative interference, as if there were any other mode of lowering the price of an article (while the demand continues the same) but by increasing its quantity. The avaricious love of gain, which is so feelingly deplored, appears to us a principle which, in able hands, might be guided to the most salutary purposes. The object is to encourage the love of labour, which is best encouraged by the love of money. We have very great doubts on the policy of reserving the best timber on the estates as government timber. Such a reservation would probably operate as a check upon the clearing of lands without attaining the*object desired ; for the timber, instead of being immediately cleared, would be slowly destroyed, by the neglect or malice of the settlers whose lands it encumbered. Timber is such a drug in new countries, that it is ai any time to be purchased for little more than the labour of cutting. To secure a supply of it by vexa- tious and invidious laws, is surely a work of superero- gation and danger. The greatest evil which the government has yet had to contend with is, the inor- dinate use of spirituous liquors ; a passion which puts the interests of agriculture at variance with those of morals: for a dram-drinker will consume as much corn in the form of alcohol, in one day, as would supply him with bread for three; and thus, by his vices, opens an admirable market to the industry of a new settlement. The only mode, we believe, of en- countering this evil, is by deriving from it such a revenue as will not admit of smuggling. Beyond this it is almost invincible by authority ; and it is probably to be cured only by the progressive refinement of manners. To evince the increasing commerce of the settle- ment, a list is subjoined of 140 ships, which have arrived there since its first foundation, forty only of which were from England. The colony at Norfolk Island is represented to be in a very deplorable situa- tion, and will most probably be abandoned for one about to be formed on Van Diemen's Land,* though the capital defect of the former settlement has been partly obviated, by a discovery of the harbour for small craft. The most important and curious information con- tained in this volume, is the discovery of straits which separate Van Diemen's Land (hitherto considered as its southern extremity) from New Holland. For this discovery we are indebted to Mr. Bass, a.surgeon, after * It is singular that Governments a?e not more desirous of pushing their settlements rather to the north than the south of Port Jackson. The soil and climate would probably im- prove, in the latitude nearer the equator ; and settlements in that position would be more contiguous to our Indian colonies. whom the straits have been named, and Who was led to a suspicion of their existence by a prodigious swell which he observed to set in from the westward, at the mouth of the opening which he had reached on a voyage of discovery, prosecuted in a common whale- boat. To verify this suspicion, he proceeded after- wards in a vessel of 25 tons, 'accompanied by Mr. Flanders, a naval gentleman ; and, entering the straits between the latitudes of 39° and 40° south, actually circumnavigated Van Diemen's Land. Mr. Bass's ideas of the importance of this discovery, we shall give from his narrative, as reported by Mr. Collins. ' The most prominent advantage which seemed likely to accrue to the settlement from this discovery was, the expe- diting of the passage from the Cape of Good Hope to Port Jackson; for, although a line drawn from the Cape to 44° of south latitude, and to the longitude of the South Cape of Van Diemen's Land, would not sensibly differ from one drawn to the latitude of 40° to the same longitude; yet it must be allowed, that a ship will be four degrees nearer to Port Jackson in the latter situation than it would be in the former. But there is, perhaps, a greater advantage to be gained by making a passage through the strait, than the mere saving of four degrees of latitude along the coast. The major part of the ships that have arrived at Fort Jack- son have met with N. E. winds, on opening the sea round the South Cape and Cape Pillar; and have been so much retarded by them, that a fourteen days' passage to the port is reckoned to be a fair one, although the difference of lati- tude is but ten degrees, and the most prevailing winds at the latter place are from S. E. to S. in summer," and from W. S. W. to S. in winter. If, by going through Bass Strait, these N. E. winds can be avoided, which in many cases would probably be the case, there is no doubt but a week or more would be gained by it ; and the expense, with the wear and tear of the ship for one week, are objects to most owners, more especially when freighted with convicts by the run. ' This strait likewise presents another advantage. From the prevalence of the N. E. and easterly winds off the South Cape, many suppose that a passage may be made from thence to the westward, either to the Cape of Good Hore, or to India ; but the fear of the great unknown bight . tween the South Cape and the^S. W. Cape of Lewen 1 . Land, lying in about 35° south and 113°- east, has hitherto prevented the trial being made. Now, the strait removes a part of this danger, by presenting a certain place of retreat, should a gale oppose itself to the ship in the first part of the essay : and should the wind come at S. W. she need not fear making a good stretch to the W. N. W. which course, if made good, is within a few degrees of going clear of alh There is, besides, King George the Third's Sound, discov- ered by Captain Vancouver, situate in the latitude of 35 c 30' south, and longitude 11S° 12' east; and it is to be hoped, that a few years will disclose many others upon the coast, as well as the confirmation or futility of the conjecture that a still larger than Bass Strait dismembers New Holland.' — (p. 192, 193.) We learn from a note subjoined to this passage, that, in order to verify or refute this conjecture, of the existence of other important inlets on the west coast of New Holland, Captain Flinders has sailed with two ships under his command, and is said to be accompanied by two professional men of considerable ability. Such are the most important contents of Mr. Col- lins's book, the style of which we very much approve, because it appears to be written by himself ; and we must repeat again, that nothing can be more injurious to the opinion the public will form of the authenticity of a book of this kind, than the suspicion that it has been tricked out and embellished by other hands Such men, to be sure, have existed as Julius Caesar, but, in general, a correct and elegant style is hardly attainable by those who have passed their lives in action : and no one has such a pedantic love of go Dd writing, as to prefer mendacious finery to rough and ungrammatical truth. The events which Mr. Collins's book records, we have read with great interest. There is a charm in thus seeing villages, and churches, and farms, rising from a wilderness, where civilized mau has never set his foot since the creation of the world The contrast between fertility and barrenness, popu- lation and solitude, activity and indolence, fills the mind with the pleasing images of happiness and in- crease. Man seems to move in his proper sphere while he is thus dedicating the powers of his mind and J. FIEVEE. 19 body to reap those rewards which the bountiful Author of all things has assigned to his industry. Neither is it any common enjoyment, to turn for a while from the memory of those distractions which have so recently agitated the Old World, and to reflect that its very horrors and crimes may have thus prepared a long era of opulence and peace for a people yet in- volved in the womb of time. J. FIEVEE. (Edinburgh Review, 1809.) Lettres sur VAnfrteterre. Par J. Fievee. 1802. Of all the species of travels, that which has moral ibservation for its object is the most liable to error, And has the greatest difficulties to overcome, before it ^an arrive at excellence. Stones and roots, and leaves, are subjects which may exercise the understanding without rousing the passions. A mineralogical travel- ler will hardly fall fouler upon the granite and the feldspar of other countries than his own ; a botanist will not conceal its non-descripts ; and an agricultural tourist will faithfully detail the average crop per acre ; but the traveller who observes on the manners, habits, and institutions of other countries, must have emanci- pated his mind from the extensive and powerful do- minion of association, must have extinguished the agreeable and deceitful feelings of national vanity, and cultivated that patient humility which builds ge- neral inferences only upon the repetition of individual facts. Every thing he sees shocks some passion or flatters it ; and he is perpetually seduced to distort facts, so as to render them agreeable to his system and his feelings ! Books of travels are now pnblished in such vast abundance, that it may not be useless, perhaps, to state a few of the reasons why their value so commonly happens to be in the inverse ratio of their number. 1st, Travels are bad, from a want of opportunity for observation in those who write them. If the sides of a building are to be measured, and the number of its windows to be counted, a very short space of time may suffice for these operations ; but to gain such a knowledge of their prevalent opinions and propensi- ties, as will enable a stranger to comprehend (what is commonly called) the genius of people, requires a long residence among them, a familiar acquaintance with their language, and an easy circulation amgng their various societies. The society into which a transient stranger gains the most easy access in any country, is not often that which ought to stamp the national cha- racter ; and no criterion can be more fallible , in a peo- ple so reserved and inaccessible as the British, who (even when they open their doors to letters of intro- duction) cannot for years overcome the awkward timidity of their nature. The same expressions are of so different a value in different countries, the same actions proceed from such different causes, and pro- duce such different effects, that a judgment of foreign nations, founded on rapid observation, is almost cer- tainly a mere tissue of ludicrous and disgraceful mis- takes ; and yet a residence of a month or two seems to entitle a traveller to present the world with a picture of manners in London, Paris, or Vienna, and even to dogmatize upon the political, religious, and legal in- stitutions, as if it were one and the same thing to speak of the abstract effects of such institutions, and of their effects combined with all the peculiar circum- stances in which any nation may be placed. 2dly, An affectation of quickness in observation, an intuitive glance that requires only a moment, and a part, to judge of a perpetuity and a whole. The late Mr. Petion, who was sent over into this country to ac- quire a knowledge of our criminal law, is said to have declared himself thoroughly informed upon the sub- ject, after remaining precisely two and thirty minutes in the Old Bailey. 3dly, The tendency to found observation on a sys- tem, rather than a system upon observation. The fact Is, there are very few original eyes and ears. The preat mass see and hear as they are directed by others, and bring back from a residence in foreign countries nothing but the vague and customary notions concern- ing it, which are carried and brought back for half a century, without verification or change. The most ordinary shape in which this tendency to prejudge makes its appearance among travellers, is by a dispo- sition to exalt, or, a still more absurd disposition, to depreciate their native country. They are incapable of considering a foreign people but under one single point of view — the relation in which they stand to their own ; and the whole narrative is frequently no- thing more than a mere triumph of national vanity, or the ostentation of superiority to so common a failing. But we are wasting our time in giving a theory of the faults of travellers, when we have such ample means of exemplifying them all from the publication now before us, in which Mr. Jacob Fievee, with the most surprising talents for doing wrong, has contrived to condense and agglomerate every species of absurd- ity that has hitherto been made known, and even to launch out occasionally into new regions of nonsense, with a boldness which well entitles him to the merit of originality in folly, and discovery in impertinence. We consider Mr. Fievee's book as extremely valuable in one point of view. It affords a sort of limit or mind- mark, beyond which we conceive it to be impossible in future that pertness and petulance should pass. It is wefl to be acquainted with the boundaries of our nature on both sides ; and to Mr. Fievee we are in- debted for this valuable approach to pessimism. The height of knowledge no man has yet scanned ; but we have now pretty well fathomed the gulf of ignorance. We must, however, do justice to Mr. Fievee when he deserves it. He evinces, in his preface, a lurking uneasiness at the apprehension of exciting war between, the two countries, from the anger to which his letters will give birth in England. He pretends to deny that they will occasion a war ; but it is very easy to see he is not convinced by his own arguments ; and we con- fess ourselves extremely pleased by this amiable soli- citude at the probable effusion of human blood. We hope Mr. Fievee is deceived by his philanthropy, and that no such unhappy consequences will ensue, as he really believes, though he affects to deny them We dare to say the dignity of this country will be satis- fied, if the publication in question is disowned by the French government, or, at most, if the author is given up. At all events, we have no scruple to say, that to sacrifice twenty thousand lives, and a hundred millions of money, to resent Mr. Fievee's book, would be an unjustifiable waste of blood and treasure ; and that to take him off privately by assassination, would be an undertaking hardly compatible with the dignity of a great empire. To show, however, the magnitude of the provoca- tion, we shall specify a few of the charges which he makes against the English : that they do not under- stand fireworks as well as the French ; that they charge a shilling for admission to the exhibition ; that they have the misfortune of being incommoded by a certain disgraceful privilege, called the liberty of the press ; that the opera band plays out of tune ; that the English are so fond of drinking, that they get drunk with a certain air called the gas of Paradise ; that the privilege of electing members of parliament is so bur- thensome, that cities sometimes petition to be ex- empted from it ; that the great obstacle to a parlia- mentary reform is the mob ; that women sometimes have titles distinct from those of their husbands — al- though, in England, any body can sell his wife at market, with a rope about her neck. To these com- plaints he adds — that the English are so far from en- joying that equality of which their partisans boast, that none but the servants of the higher nobility can carry canes behind a carriage ; that the power which the French kings had of pardoning before trial, is much the same thing as the English mode of pardon ■ ing after trial ; that he should conceive it to be a good reason for rejecting any measure in France, that it was imitated from the English, who have no family affections, and who love money so much, that their first question, in an inquiry concerning the character of any man, is, as to his degree ei fortune. Lastly, 20 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. Mr. Fievee alleges against the English, that they have great pleasure in contemplating the spectacle of men deprived of their reason. And indeed we must have the candour to allow, that the hospitality which Mr. Fievee experienced, seems, to afford some pretext for this assertion. One of the principal objects of Mr. Fievee's book, is to combat the Anglomania, which has raged so long among his countrymen, and which prevailed at Paris to such an excess, that even Mr. Neckar, a foreigner (incredible as it may seem) after having been twice minister of France, retained a considerable share of admiration for the English government. This is quite inexplicable. But this is nothing to the treason of the Encyclopedists, who, instead of attributing the merit of the experimental philosophy and the reasoning by in- duction to a Frenchman, have shown themselves so lost to all sense of duty which they owed to their country, that they have attributed it to an Englishman,* of the name of Bacon, and this for no better reason, than that he really was the author of it. The whole of this pas- sage, is written so entirely in the genius of Mr. Fievee, and so completely exemplifies that very caricature spe- cies of Frenchmen from which our gross and popular notions of the whole people are taken, that we shall give the whole passage at full length, cautiously ab- staining from the sin of translating it. 1 Quand je reproche aux philosophes d'avoir vante 1' An- gleterre, par haine pour les institutions qui soutenoient la France, je ne hasarde rien, et je fournirai une nouvelle preuve de cette assertion, en citan les encyclopedistes, chefs avoues de la philosophie moderne. ' Comment nous ont-ils presente l'Encyclopedie ? Comme •an monument immortel, comme le depot precieux de toutes les connoissances humains. Sous quel patronage l'ont-ils eleve ce monument immortel? Est ce sous l'egide das ecrivains dont la France s'honoroit ? Non, ils ont choisi pour maitre et pour idole un Anglais, Bacon ; ils lui on fait dire tout ce qu'ils ont voulu, parce que cet auteur extraordinairement volumineux, n'etoit pas connu en France, et ne l'est guere en Angleterre que de quelques itommes studieux ; mais les philosophes scntoient que leur succ&s, pour introduire des nouveautes, tenoit a faire croire qu' eUes n'etoient pas neuves pour les grands esprits ; et com- lae les grands esprits Francais, trop connus, ne ce pretoient pas a un pareil dessein, les philosophes ont eu recours a 1' Angleterre. Ainsi, un ouvrage fait en France, et oftert a i'admiration de l'Europe comme l'ouvrage par excellence, fut mis par des Francais sous la protection du genie Anglais. O honte! Et les philosophes se sont dit patriotes, et la Fiance, peur prix desa degradation, leur a eleve des statues! La siecle qui commence," plus juste, parce qu'il a le senti- ment de la veritable grandeur, liassera ces statues et l'Ency- dopedie s'ensevelir sous la meme poussiere.' When to this are added the commendations that have been bestowed upon Newton, the magnitude and the originality of the discoveries which have been attributed to him, the admiration which the words of Locke have excited, and the homage that has been paid to Milton and Shakspeare, the treason which lurks at the bottom of it all will not escape the pene- trating glance of Mr. Fievee ; and he will discern that same cause, from which every good Frenchman knows the defeat of Aboukir and of the first of June to have proceeded — the monster Pitt, and his English guineas. EDGEWORTH ON BULLS. (Edinburgh Review, 1803.) Essay on Irish Bulls. By Richard Lovell Edgeworth and Maiia Edgeworth. London, 1802. We hardly know what to say about this rambling, scrambling book ; but that we are quite sure the author, when he began any sentence in it, had not the smallest suspicion ot what it was about to contain. We say the author ; because, in spite of the mixture of sexes in the title-page, we are strongly inclined to suspect that the male contributions exceed the female in a very great de- aree. The essay on Bulls is written much with the same mind, and in the same manner, as a schoolboy takes * «Gaul was conquered by a person of the name of Julius Caesar,' is the first phrase in one of Mr. Newberry's little books.: a walk : he moves on for ten yards on the straight road, with surprising perseverance ; then sets out after a butterfly, looks for a bird's nest, or jumps back- wards and forwards over a ditch. In the same man- ner, this nimble and digressive gentleman is away after every object which crosses his mind. If you leave him at the end of a comma, in a steady pursuit of his subject, you are sure to find him, before the next full stop, a hundred yards to the right or left, frisking, capering, and grinning in a high paroxysm of merri- ment and agility. Mr. Edgeworth seems to possess the sentiments of an accomplished gentleman, the in- formation of a scholar, and the vivacity of a first-rate harlequin. He is fuddled with animal spirits, giddy with constitutional joy ; in such a state he must have written on, or burst. A discharge of ink was an eva- cuation absolutely necessary, to avoid fatal and ple- thoric congestion. The object of the book is to prove, that the practice of making bulls is not more imputable to the Irish than to any other people ; and the maimer in which he sets about it, is to quote examples of bulls juoduced in other countries. But this is surely a singular way of reasoning the question: for there are goitres out of Valais, extortioners who do not worship Moses, oat cakes out of the Tweed, and balm beyond the pre- cincts of Gilead. If nothing can be said to exist pre- eminently and emphatically in one country, which exists at all in another, then Frenchmen are not gay, nor Spaniards grave, nor are gentlemen of the Mile- sian race remarkable for their disinterested con- tempt of wealth in their connubial relations. It is probable there is some foundation for a charactei so generally diffused ; though it is also probable that such foundation is extremely enlarged by fame. If there were no foundation for the common opinion, we must suppose national characters formed by chance; and that the Irish might, by accident, have been laughed at as bashful and sheepish, which is impossible. The author puzzles himself a good deal about the nature of bulls, without coming to any decision about the matter. Though the ques- tion is not a very easy one, we shall venture to say, that a bull is an apparent congruity, and real incongruity, of ideas, suddenly discovered. And if this account of bulls be just, they are (as might have been supposed) the very reverse of wit ; for as wit discovers real relations, that are not apparent, bulls admit apparent relations that are not real. The plea- sure arising from wit proceeds from our surprise at suddenly discovering two things to be similar, in which we susoect no similarity. The pleasure arising from balls proceeds from discovering two things to be dis- similar, in which a resemblance might have been sus- pected. The same doctrine will apply to wit, and to bulls in action. Practical wit discovers connection or relation between actions, in which duller understand- ings discover none ; and practical bulls originate from an apparent relation between two actions, which more correct understandings immediately perceive to have no relation at all. Louis XIV. being extremely harrassed by the re- peated solicitations of a veteran officer for promotion, said one day, loud enough to be heard, < That gentle- man is the most troublesome officer I have in my service.' < That is precisely the charge (said the old man) which your Majesty's enemies bring against me.' <■ An English gentleman,' (says Mr. Edgeworth, in a story cited from Joe Millar,) ' was writing a letter in a coffee- house ; and perceiving that an Irishman stationed behind him was taking that liberty which Paimenio used with his friend Alexander, instead of putting his seal upon the lips of the curious impertinent, the English gentleman thought proper to reprove the Hibernian, if not with delicacy, at least with poetical justice. He concluded writing his letter in these words: "I would say more, but a damned tall Irishman is reading over my shoulder every word I write." 1 " You lie, you scoundrel," said the self -convicted Hiber nian.'— (p. 29.) The pleasure derived from the first of these stories, proceeds from the discovery of the relation that subsists between the object he had m view, and the assent of the officer to an observation so unfriendly to that end. Iu EDGWORTH ON BULLS. the first rapid glance which the mind throws upon his Words, he appears, by his acquiescence, to be pleading against himself. There seems to be no relation be- tween what he says, and what he wishes to effect by speakicg. In the second story, the pleasure is directly the re- verse. The lie given was apparently the readiest means of proving his innocence, and really the most actual way of establishing his guilt. There seems for a moment to be a strong relation between the means and the object ; while, in -fact, no irrelation can be so complete. What connection is there between pelting stones at monkeys, and gathering cocoa-nuts from lofty trees ? Apparently none. But monkeys sit upon cocoa-nut- trees ; monkeys are imitative animals ; and if you pelt a monkey with a stone, he pelts you with a cocoa- nut hi return. This scheme of gathering cocoa-nuts is very witty, and would be more so if it did not appear useful : for the idea of utility is always mimical to the idea of wit.* There appears, on the contrary, to be some relation between the revenge of the Irish rebels against a banker, and the means which they took to gratify it, by burning all his notes wherever they found them ; whereas, they could not have rendered him a more essential service. In both these cases of bulls, the one verbal, the other practical, there is an apparent congruity, and real incongruity of ideas. In both the cases of wit, there is an apparent incongruity and a real relation. It is clear that a bull cannot depend upon mere incongruity alone ; for if a man were to say that he would ride to London upon a cocked hat, or that he would cut his throat with a pound of pickled salmon, this, though completely incongruous, would not be to make bulls, but to talk nonsense. The stronger the apparent connection, and the more complete the real disconnection of the ideas, the greater the surprise, and the better the bull. The less apparent, and the more complete the relations established by wit, the higher gratification does it afford. A great deal of the pleasure experienced from bulls^ proceeds from the sense of superiority in ourselves. Bulls which we invented, or knew to be invented, might please, but in a less degree, for want of this addition- al zest. As there must be apparent connection, and real recongruity, it is seldom that a man of sense and edu- cation finds any form of words by which he is con- scious that he might have been deceived into a bull. To conceive how the person has been deceived, he must suppose a degree of information very different from, and a species of character very heterogeneous to, his own ; a process which diminishes surprise, and consequently pleasure. In the above-mentioned story of the Irishman overlooking the man writing, no per- son of ordinary sagacity can suppose himself betrayed into such a mistake ; but he can easily represent to himself a kind of character that might have been so betrayed. There are some bulls so extremely falla- cious, that any man may imagine himself to have been betrayed into them , but these are rare : and, in general, it is a poor, contemptible species of amuse- ment, a delight in which evinces a very bad taste in wit. * It must be observed, that all the great passions, and many other feelings, extinguish the relish for wit. Thus lympha pudica Deum vidit et erebuit, would be witty, were it not bordering on the sublime. The resemblance between the sandal tree imparting (while it falls) its aromantic fla- vour to the edge of the axe, and the benevolent man re- warding evil with good, would be witty, did it not excite virtuous emotions. There are many mechanical contriv- ances which excite sensations very similar to wit; but the attention is absorbed by their utility. Some of .Merlin's machines, which have no utility at all, are quite similar to wit. A small model of a steam-engine, or mere squirt, is wit to a child. A man speculates on the causes of the first, or in its consequences, and so loses the feelings of wit : with the latter, he is too familiar to be surprised. In short, the essence of every species of wit is surprise ; which vi termini, must be sudden ; and the sensations which wit has a ten- dency to excite, are impaired or destroyed as often as they ere mingled with much thought or passion, Whether the Irish make more bulls than their neighbours, is, as we have before remarked, not a point of much importance ; but it is of considerable importance that the character of a nation should not be degraded ; and Mr. Edgeworth has great merit in his very benevolent intention of doing justice to the excellent qualities of the Irish. It is not possible to read his book without feeling a strong and new dispo- sition in their favour. Whether the imitation of the Irish manner be correct in his little stories, we can- not determine ; but we feel the same confidence hi the accuracy of the imitation, that is often felt in the resemblance of a portrait, of which we have never seen the original. It is no very high compliment to Mr. Edgeworth's creative powers, to say, he could not have formed anything, which was not real, so like reality ; but such a remark only robs Peter to pay Paul ; and gives everything to his powers of observation which it takes from those of his imagination. In truth, no- thing can be better than his imitation of the Irish manner : it is first-rate painting. Edgeworth and Co. have another faculty in great perfection. They are eminently masters of the pathos. The Firm drew tears from us in the stories of little Dominick, and of the Irish beggar who killed his sweetheart : Never was any grief more natural or simple. The first, however, ends in a very foolish way; -formosa superne Desinit in piscem. We are extremely glad that our avocation did not call us from Bath to London on the day that the Bath coach-conversation took place. We except from this wish the story with which the conversation termi- nates ; for as soon as Mr. Edgeworth enters upon a story he excels. We must confess we have been much more pleased with Mr. Edgeworth in his laughing and in his pathe- tic, than in his grave and reasoning moods. He meant, perhaps, that we should ; and it certainly is not very necessary that a writer should be profound on the subject of bulls. Whatever be the deficiencies of the book, they are, in our estimation, amply atoned for by its merits ; by none more than that lively feeling of compassion which pervades it for the distresses of the wild, kind-hearted, blundering poor of Ireland. TRIMMER AND LANCASTER.* (Edinburgh Review, 1806.) JL Comparative View of the New Plan of Education promul- gated by Mr. Joseph Lancaster, in his Tracts concerning the Instruction of the Children of the Labouring Part of the Community ; and. of the Syste'm of Christian Education founded by our pious Forefathers for the Initiation of the Young Members of the Established Church in the Principles of the Reformed Religion. By Mrs. Trimmer. 1805. This is a book written by a lady who has gained considerable reputation at the Corner of St. "Paul's Churchyard ; who flames in the van of Mr. Newbury's shop ; and is, upon the whole, dearer to mothers and aunts than any other who pours the milk of science into the mouths of babes and sucklings. Tired at last of scribbling for children, and getting ripe in ambition, she has now written a book for grown-up people, and selected for her antagonist as stiff a controversialist as the whole field of dispute could well have supplied. Her opponent is Mr. Lancaster, a Quaker, who has lately given to the world new and striking fights upon the subject of Education, and come forward to the notice of his country by spreading order, knowledge, and innocence among the lowest of mankind. Mi. Lancaster, she says, wants method in his book; * Lancaster invented the new method of education. The Church was sorely vexed at his success,, endeavoured to set up Dr. Bell as the discoverer, and to run down poor Lan caster. George the Third was irritated by this shabby con duct, and always protected Lancaster. He was delighted with this Review, and made Sir Herbert Taylor read it a second time to him 22 WORKS On THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. and therefore her answer to him is without any ar- rangement The same excuse must suffice for the desultory observations we shall make upon this lady's publication. The first sensation of disgust we experienced at Mrs. of vice ; if the associates of youth pour contempt on the liar ; he will soon hide his head with shame, and most likely leave off the practice.' — (p. 24, 25.) The objection which Mrs. Trimmer makes to this passage, is that it is exalting the fear of man above the Trimmer's book, was from the patronizing and pro- \fear of God. This observation is as mischievous as it tecting air with which she speaks of some small part of Mr. Lancaster's plan. She seems to suppose, because she has dedicated her mind to the subject, that her opinion must necessarily be valuable upon it ; forget- ting it to be barely possible that her application may have made her more wrong, instead of more right. If she can make out her case, that Mr. Lancaster is do- mg mischief in so important a point as that of nation- al education, she has a right, in common with every one else, to lay her complaint before the public ; but a light to publish praises must be earned by something iwre difficult than the writing sixpenny books for chil- dren. This may be very good ; though we never re- member to have seen any one of them ; but if they be no more remarkable for judgment and discretion {girts of the work before us, there are many thriving children quite capable of repaying the obli- gations they owe to their amiable^ instructress, and of teaching, with grateful retaliation, ' the old idea how to shoot.' In remarking upon the work before us, we shall ex- i ollow the plan of the authoress, and prefix, as she "does, the titles of those subjects on which her ob- servations are made ; doing her the justice to presume that her quotations are fairly taken from Mr. Lancas- ter's book. 1. Mr. Lancaster's Preface. — Mrs. Trimmer here contends, in opposition to Mr. Lancaster, that ever since the establishment of the Protestant Church, the education of the poor has been a national concern in this country ; and the only argument she produces in support of this extravagant assertion, is an appeal to the act of uniformity. If there are millions of Eng- lishmen who cannot spell their own names, or read a ygn-post which bids them turn to the right or left, is "t any answer to this deplorable ignorance to say, Jhere is an act of Parliament for public instruction ? — ro show the very line and chapter where the King, Lords, and Commons, in Parliament assembled, or- iained the universality of reading and writing, when, centuries afterwards, the ploughman is no more capa- ble of the one or the other than the beast which he drives ? In point of fact, there is no Protestant coun- try in the world where the education of the jjoor has *>een so grossly and infamously neglected as in Eng- land. Mr. Lancaster has the high merit of catling the public attention to this evil, and of calling it hi the $est way, by new and active remedies ; and this un- *andid and feeble lady, instead of using the influence she has obtained over the anility of these realms, to •oin that useful remonstrance which Mr. Lancaster has begun, pretends to deny that the evil exists ; and when V'ou ask where are the schools, rods, pedagogues, primers, histories of Jack the Giant-killer, and all the usual apparatus for education, the only things he can produce is the act of uniformity and common prayer. 2. The Principles on which Mr. Lancaster's institu- tion is conducted. — ' Happily for mankind,' says Mr. Lancaster, ' it is possible to combine precept and 1>raetice together in the education of youth : that pub- ic spirit, or general opinion, which gives such strength to vice, may be rendered serviceable to the cause of virtue ; and in thus directing it, the whole secret, the beauty, and simplicity of national education consists. Suppose, for instance, it be required to train a youth to strict veracity. He has learned to read at school : he there reads the declaration of the Divine will re- specting liars: he is there informed of the pernicious effects that practice produces on society at large ; and he is enjoined, for the fear of God, for the approbation of his friends, and for the good of his school-fellows, never to tell an untruth. This is a most excellent pre- cept ; but let it be taught, and yet, if the contrary practice be treated with indifference by parents, teachers, or associates, it will either weaken or de- stroy all the good that can be derived from it : But if the parents or teachers tenderly nip the rising shoots is unfounded. Undoubtedly the fear- of God ought to be the paramount principle from the very beginning of life, if it were possible to make it so ; but it is a feel- ing which can only be built up by degrees. The awe and respect which a child entertains for its parent and instructor, is the first scaffolding upon which the sa cred edifice of religion is reared. A child begins to pray, to act, and to abstain, not to please God, but to please the parent, who tells him that such is the will of God. The religious principle gams ground from the power of association and the improvement of reason ; but without the fear of man, — the desire of pleasing, and the dread of offending those with whom he lives,— it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to cherish it at all in the minds of the children. If you tell (says Mr. Lancaster) a child not to swear, be- cause it is forbidden by God, and he finds everybody whom he lives with addicted to that vice, the mere precept will soon be obliterated ; which would acquire its just influence if aided by the effect of example. — Mr. Lancaster does not say that the fear of man ever ought to be a stronger motive than the fear of God, or that, in a thoroughly formed character, it ever is : he merely says, that the fear of man may be made the most powerful mean to raise up the fear of God ; and nothing, in our opinion, can be more plain, more sen- sible, or better expressed, than his opinions upon these subjects. In corroboration of this sentiment, Mr. Lan- caster tells the folio whig story : — 1 A benevolent friend of mine,' says he, who resides at a village near London, "where he has a school of the class called Sunday Schools, recommended several lads to me for education. He is a pious man, and these children had the advantage of good j>recepts under his instruction in an em- inent degree, but had reduced them to very little practice. As they came to my school from some distance, they were permitted to bring- their dinners ; and, in the interval be- tween morning and afternoon school hours, spent their time with a number of lads under similar circumstances in a play- ground adjoining the school-room. In this play-ground the boys usually enjoy an hour's recreation ; tops, balls, races, or what best suits their inclination or the season of the year ; but with this charge, "Let all be kept in innocence." These lads thought themselves very happy at play with their new associates ; but on a sudden they were seized and overcome by numbers, were brought into school just as people in the .street would seize a pick-pocket, and bring him to the police office. Happening at that time to be within, I inquired, "Well, boys, what is all this bustle about r" — " Why, sir," was the general reply, " these lads have been swearing." This was'announced with as much emphasis and solemnity as a judge would use in passing sentence upon a criminal. The culprits were, as may be supposed, in much terror. After the examination of wit- nesses and proof of the facts, they received admonition as to the offence ; and, on promise of better behaviour, were dismissed. No more was ever heard of their swearing ; yet it was observable, tnat they were better acquainted with the theory of Christianity, and could give a more rational answer to questions from the scripture, than several of the boys who had thus treated them, on comparison, as consta- bles would do a thief. I call this,' adds Mr. Lancaster, 1 practical religious instruction, and could, if needful, give many such anecdotes.' — (p. 26, 27.) All that Mrs. Trimmer has to observe against this very striking illustration of Mr. Lancaster's doctrine, is, that the monitors behaved to the swearers in a very rude and unchristianlike manner. She begins with be- ing cruel, arid ends with being silly. Her first obser- vation is calculated to raise the posse comitatvs against Mr. Lancaster, to get him stoned for impiety ; and then, when he produces the most forcible example of the effect of opinion to encourage religious precept, she says such a method of preventing swearing is too rude for the gospel. True, modest, unobtrusive reli- gion — charitable, forgiving, indulgent Christianity, is the greatest ornament and the greatest blessing that ciu dwell in the mind of man. But if there is one character more base, more infamous, and more shock- ing than another, it is him who, for tbe sake of some TRIMMER AND LANCASTER. 23 paltry distinction in the world, is ever ready to accuse conspicuous persons of irreligion — to turn common in- former for the church — and to convert the most beau- tiful feelings of the human heart to the destruction of the good and great, by fixing upon talents the indeli- ble stigma of irreligion. It matters not how trifling and insignificant? the accuser ; cry out that the church is in danger, and your object is accomplished ; lurk in the walk of hypocrisy, to accuse your enemy of the crime of Atheism, and his ruin is quite certain ; ac- quitted or condemned, is the same thing ; it is only sufficient that he be accused, in order that his destruc- tion be accomplished. If we could satisfy ourselves that such were the real views of Mrs. Trimmer, and that she were capable of such baseness, we would have drawn blood from her at every line, and left her in a state of martyrdom more piteous than that of St. Uba. Let her attribute the milk and mildness she meets with in this review of her book, to the convic- tion we entertain, that she knew no better — that she really did understand Mr. Lancaster as she pretends to understand him — and that if she had been aware of the extent of the mischief she Avas doing, she would have tossed the manuscript spelling book hi which she was engaged into the fire, rather than have done it. — As a proof that we are in earnest in speaking of Mrs. Trimmer's simplicity, we must state the objection she makes to one of Mr. Lancaster's punishments. — ' When I meet,' says Mr. Lancaster, with a slovenly boy, I put a label upon his breast, I walk him round the school with a tin or paper crown upon his head.' ' Surely,' says Mrs. Trimmer, (in reply to this,) l sure- ly it should be remembered, that the Saviour of the world was crowned with thorns, in derision, and that this is the reason why crowning is an improper punish- ment for a slovenly boy. 7 !!! Rewards and Punishments. — Mrs. Trimmer objects to the fear of ridicule being made an instrument of education, because it may be hereafter employed to shame a boy out of his religion. She might, for the same reason, object to the cultivation of the reason- ing faculty, because a boy may hereafter be reasoned out of his religion : she surely does not mean to say that she would make boys insensible to ridicule, the fear of which is one curb upon the follies and eccen- tricities of human nature. Such an object it would be impossible to effect, even if it were useful : Put an hundred boys together, and the fear of being laughed at will always be a strong influencing mo Live with every individual among them. If a master can turn this principle to his own use, and get boys to laugh at vice instead of the old plan of laughing at virtue, is he not doing a very new, a very difficult, and a very lau- dable thing ? When Mr. Lancaster finds a little boy with a very dirty face, he sends for a little girl, and makes her wash off the dirt before the whole school : and she is directed to accompany her ablutions with a gentle box of the ear. To us, this punishment appears well adapted to the offence ; and in this, and in most other instances of Mr. Lancaster's interference, in scholas- tic discipline, we are struck with his good sense, and delighted that arrangements apparently so trivial, really so important, should have fallen under the at- tention of so ingenious and so original a man. Mrs. Trimmer objects to this practice, that it destroys temale modesty, and inculcates in that sex, an habit of giving boxes on the ear. ' When a boy gets into a singing tone in reading,' says Mr. Lancaster, < the best mode of cure that I have hitherto found effectual is by the force of ridicule. — Decorate the offender with matches, ballads, (dying speeches if needful ;) and in this garb send him round the school, with some hoys before him crying matches, &c, exactly imitating the dismal tones with which such things are hawked about London street-, as will readily recur "to the reader's memory. I be- lieve many boys behave rudely to Jews more on account of the manner in which they cry " old clothes," than be- cause they are Jews. I have always found excellent effects from treating boys, who sing or tone in their reading, in the manner described. It is sure to turn the laugh of the whole school upon the delinquent ; it provokes risibility, in spite of every endeavour to check it, .in all but the offender. I have seldom known a boy thus punished once, for whom it was needful a second time. It is also very seldom that a boy deserves both a log and a shackle at the same time. Most boys are wise enough, when under one punishment, not to transgress immediately, lest it should be doubled.' — (p, 47, 48.) This punishment is objected to on the part of Mrs Trimmer, because it inculcates a dislike to Jews, and an indifference to dying speeches ! Toys, she says, given as rewards, are worldly things ; children are to be taught that there are eternal rewards in store for them. It is very dangerous to give prints as rewards, because prints may hereafter be the vehicle of inde- cent ideas. It is, above all things, perilous to create an orcjer of merit in the borough school, because if gives the boys an idea of the origin of nobility, ' especially in times (we use Mrs. Trimmer's own words) which furnish instances of the extinction of a race of ancient nobility, in a neighbouring nation, and the elevation of some of the lowest people to the highest stations. Boys accustomed to consider themselves the nobles of the school, may in their future lives, form a conceit of their own merits {unless they have very sound principles), aspire to be nobles of the land, and to take place of the hereditary nobility.' We think these extracts will sufficiently satisfy every reader of common sense, of the merits of this publication. For our part, when we saw these ragged and interesting little nobles, shining in their tin stars, we only thought it probable that the spirit of emula- tion would make them better ushers, tradesmen, and mechanics. We did, in truth, imagine we had ob- served, in some of their faces, a bold project for pro- curing better breeches for keeping out the blast of heaven, which howled through those garments in every direction, and of aspiring hereafter to greater strength of seam, and more perfect continuity of cloth But for the safety of the titled orders we had no fear; nor did we once dream that the black rod which whipt these dirty little -dukes, would one day be borne be fore them as the emblem of legislative dignity, and the sign of noble blood. Order. — The order Mr. Lancaster has displayed in the school is quite astonishing. Every boy seems to be the cog of a wheel — the whole school a perfect ma- chine. This is so far from being a burden or con- straint to the boys, that Mr. Lancaster has made it quite pleasant to them, by giving to it the air of mili- tary arrangement ; not foreseeing, as Mrs. Trimmer foresees, that, in times of public dangers, this plan fur- nishes the disaffected with the immediate means of raising an army ; for what have they to do but to send for all the children educated by Mr. Lancaster, from the different corners of the kingdom into which they are dispersed, to beg it as a particular favour of them to fall into the same order as they adopted in the spelling class twenty-five years ago ; and the rest is all matter of course — Jamque faces, et Saxa volant. The main object, however, for which this book is written, is to prove that the church establishment is in danger, from the increase of Mr. Lancaster's insti- tutions. Mr. Lancaster is, as we have before obsrerved, a Quaker. As a Quaker, he says, I cannot teach your creeds ; but I pledge myself not to teach my own. I pledge myself (and if I deceive you, desert me, and give me up) to confine myself to those points of Chris- tianity in which all Christians agree. To which Mrs. Trimmer replies, that, in the first place, he cannot do this ; and, in the next place, if he did do it, it would not be enough. But why, we would ask, cannot Mr. Lancaster effect his first object ? The practical and the feeling parts of religion are much more likely to attract the attention and provoke the questions of chil- dren, than its speculative doctrines. A child is not very likely to put any questions at all to a catechising master, and still less likely to lead him into subtle and profound disquisition. It appears to us not only prac- ticable, but very easy, to confine the religious instruc- tion of the poor, in the first years of life, to those gen- eral feelings and principles which are suitable to the established church, and to every sect; afterwards, tho 24 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. discriminating tenets of each subdivision of Chris- tians may be fixed upon this general basis. To say this is not enough, that a child should be made an An- tisocinian, or an Antipelagian, in his tenderest years, may be very just ; but what prevents you from mak- ing him so ? Mr. Lancaster, purposely and intention- ally, to allay all jealousy, leaves him in a state as well adapted for one creed as another. Begin ; make your pupil a firm advocate for the peculiar doctrines of the English church; dig round about him, on every side, a trench that shall guard him from every species of heresy. In spite of all this clamour you do nothing ; you do not stir a single step ; you educate alike the swineherd and his hog — and then, when a man of real genius and enterprise rises up, and says, Let me dedi- cate my life to this object ; I will do" every thing but that which must necessarily devolve upon you alone ; you refuse to do your little, and compel him, by the cry of Infidel and Atheist, to leave you to your an- cient repose, and not to drive you, by insidious com- parisons, to any system of active utility. We deny, again and again, that Mr. Lancaster's instruction is any kind of impediment to the propagation of the doc- trines of the church ; and if Mr. Lancaster was to per- ish with his system to-morrow, these boys would pos- itively be taught nothing ; the doctrines which Mrs. Trimmer considers to be prohibited would not rush in, but there would be an absolute vacuum. We will, however, say this in favour of Mrs. Trimmer, that if every one who has joined in her clamour, had la- bored one-hundredth part as much as she has done in the cause of national education, the clamour Avould be much more rational, and much more consistent, than it now is. By living with a few people as active as herself, she is perhaps somehow or another persuaded that there is a national education going on in this coun- try. But our principal argument is, that Mr. Lancas- ter's plan is at least better than the nothing which pre- ceded it. The authoress herself seems to be a lady of respectable opinions, and very ordinary talents ; de fending what is right without judgment, and believing what is holy without charity. PARNELL AND IRELAND.* (Edinburgh Re- view, 1807.) Historical Apology for the Irish Catholics. By William Par- nell, Esquire. Fitzpatrick, Dublin, 1807. If ever a nation exhibited symptoms of downright madness, or utter stupidity, we conceive these symp- toms may be easily recognized in the conduct of this country upon the Catholic question. A man has a wound in his great toe, and a violent and perilous fever at the same time ; and he refuses to take the medicines for the fever, because it will disconcert his toe ! The mournful and folly-stricken blockhead for- gets that his toe cannot survive him ; — that if he dies, there can be no digital life apart from him ; yet he lingers and fondles over this last part of his body, soothing it madly with little plasters, and anile fo- mentations, while the neglected fever rages in his entrails, and burns away his whole life. If the com- paratively little questions of Establishment arc all that this country is capable of discussing or regard- ing, for God's sake let us remember, that the foreign conquest, which destroys all, destroys this beloved toe also. Pass over freedom, industry, and science — and look upon this great empire, by which we are about to be swallowed up, only as it affects the man- ner of collecting tithes, and of reading the liturgy — still, if all goes, these must go too ; and even, for * I do not retract one syllable (or one iota) of what I have said or written upon the Catholic question. What was wanted for Ireland was emancipation, time and justice, abolition of present wrongs : time for Forgetting past wrongs, and that continued and even justice which would make such oblivion wise. It is now only difficult to tran- quilize Ireland, before emancipation it was impossible. As to the danger from Catholic doctrines, I must leave such apprehensions to the respectable anility of these realms. I will not meddle with it. their interests, it is worth while to conciliate Ireland, to avert the hostility, and to employ the' strength o the Catholic population. We plead the question as the sincerest friends to the Establishment ; — as wish- ing to it all the prosperity and duration its warmest advocates can desire, — but remembering always, what these advocates seem to forget, that the Establish- ment cannot be threatened by any danger so great as the perdition of the kingdom in which it is estab- lished. We are truly glad to agree so entirely with Mr. Parnell upon this great question ; we admire his way of thinking ; and most cordially recommend his work to the attention of the public. The general conclu- sion which he attempts to prove is this ; — that reli- gious sentiment, however perverted to bigotry or fanaticism, has always a tendency to moderation ; that it seldom assumes any great portion of activity or enthusiasm, except from novelty of opinion, or from opposition, contumely, and persecution, when novelty ceases ; that a government has little to fear from any religious sect, except while that sect is new. Give a government only time, and, provided it has the good sense to treat foliy with forbearance, it must idti- mately prevail. When, therefore, a sect is found, after a lapse of years, to be ill disposed to the govern- ment, we may be certain that government has'widen- ed its separation by marked distinctions, roused its resentment by contumely, or supported its enthusiasm by persecution. The particular conclusion Mr. Parnell attempts to prove is, that the Catholic religion in Ireland had sunk into torpor and inactivity, till government roused it with the lash : that even then, from the respect and attachment, which men are always inclined to show towards government, there still remained a large body of loyal Catholics ; that these only decreased in number from the rapid increase of persecution ; and that, after all, the effects which the resentment of the Roman Catholics had in creating rebellions had been very much exaggerated. In support of these two conclusions, Mr. Parnell takes a survey of the history of Ireland, from the con- quest under Henry, to the rebellion under Charles the First, passing very rapidly over the period which pre- ceded the Reformation, and dwelling principally upon the various rebellions which broke out in Ireland between the Reformation and the grand rebellion in the reign of Charles the First. The celebrated conquest of Ireland by Henry the Second, extended only to a very few comities in Leinster ; nine-tenths of the whole kingdom were left, as he found them, under the domi- nion of their native princes. The influence of example was as strong in this, as in most olher instances; and great numbers of the English settlers who came over under various adventurers, resigned their pre- tensions to superior civilization, cast off their lower garments, and lapsed into the nudity and barbar- ism of the Irish. The limit which divided the pos- sessions of the English settler from those of the native Irish, was called the pale ; and the expressions of inhabitants within pale, and without the j ale, were the terms by which the two nations were distinguish- ed. It is almost superfluous to state, that the most bloody and pernicious warfare was carried on upon the borders — sometimes for something — sometimes for nothing — most commonly for cows. The Irish, over whom the sovereigns of England affected a sort of nominal dominion, were entirely governed by their own laws ; and so very little connection had they \\ it'a the justice of the Invading country, that it was as lawful* to kill an Irishman, as it was to kill a badger or a fox. The instances are innumerablfij where the defendant has pleaded that the deceased was an Irishman, and that therefore defendant had a right to kill him ; — and upon the proof of Hibcrnicism acquittal followed of course. When the English army mustered in any great strength, the Irish chieftains would do exterior ho- mage to the English Crown ; and they very frequent- ly, by this artifice, averted from their country the miseries of invasion : but they remained completely unsubdued, until the rebellion which took place in PARNELL AND IRELAND. 25 the reign of Queen Elizabeth, of which that politic I woman availed herself to the complete subjugation of Ireland. Iu speaking of the Irish about the reign of I Elizabeth, or James the First, we must not draw our comparisons from England, but from New Zealand ; they were not civilized men, but savages ; and if we reason about their conduct, we must reason of them as savages. 1 After reading every account of Irish history,' (says Mr. Parnell,) ' one great perplexity appears to remain : How does it happen, that, from the first invasion of the English, till the reign of James I., Ireland seems not to have made the smallest progress in civilization or wealth ? ' That it was divided into a number of small principali ties, which waged constant war on each other, or that the appointment of the chieftains was elective, do not appear sufficient reasons, although these are the only ones assigned by those who have been at the trouble of considering the subject : neither are the confiscations of property quite suf- ficient to account for the effect. There have been great confiscations in other countries, and still they have flour- ished : the petty states of Greece were quite analogous to the chiefries (as they were called) in Ireland; and yet they seemed to flourish almost in proportion to their dis- sensions. Poland felt the bad effects of an elective monar- chy more than any other country ; and yet, in point of civilization, it maintained a very respectable rank among the nations of Europe ; but Ireland never, for an instant, made any progress in improvement till the reign of James 1 It is scarcely credible, that in a climate like that of Ire- land, and at a period so far advanced in civilization as the end of Elizabeth's reign, the greater part of the natives shoull go naked. Yet this is rendered certain by the testi- mony of an eye witness, Fynes Moryson. " In the re- mote parts," he says, " where the English manners are un- known, the very chief of the Irish, as well men as women, go naked in the winter time, only having their privy parts covered with a rag of linen, and their bodies with a loose mantle. This I speak of my own experience , yet remem- ber that a Bohemian Baron coming out of Scotland to us by the north parts of the wild Irish, told me in great ear- nestness, that he, coming to the house of O'Kane, a great lord amongst them, was met at the door by sixteen women til naked, excepting their loose mantles, whereof eight or ten were very fair ; with which strange sight his eyes being dazzled, they led him into the house, and then sitting down by the fire with crossed legs, like tailors, and so low as could not but offend chaste eyes, desired him to sit down with them. Soon after, O'Kane, the lord of the country, came in all naked, except a loose mantle and shoes, which he put off as soon as he came in ; and, entertaining the Baron after his best manner in the Latin tongue, desired him to put off his apparel, which he thought to be a burden to him, and to sit naked. < " To conclude, men and women at night going to sleep, lye thus naked in a round circle about the fire, with their feet towards it. They fold their heads and their upper parts in woollen mantles, first steeped in water to keep them warm ; for they say, that woollen cloth, wetted, pre- serves heat (as linen, wetted, preserves cold,) when the smoke of their bodies has warmed the woollen cloth." 1 The cause of this extreme poverty, and of its long con- tinuance, we must conclude, arose from the peculiar laws of property, which were in force under the Irish dynasties. These laws have been described by most writers as similar to the Kentish custom of gavelkind ; and indeed so little attention was paid to the subject, that were it not for the researches of Sir J. Davis, the knowledge of this singular usage would have been entirely lost. 1 The Brehon law of property, he tells us, was similar to the custom (as the English lawyers term it) of hodge-podge. When any one of the sept died, his lands did not descend to his sons, but were divided among the whole sept : and, for this purpose, the chief of the sept made a new division of the whole lands belonging to the sept, and gave every one his part according to seniority. So that no man had a property which could descend to his children ; and even during his own life, his possession of any particular spot was quite uncertain, being liaole to be constantly shuffled and changed by new partitions. The consequence of this was that there was not a house of brick or stone, among the Irish, down to the reign of Henry VI. ; not even a garden or orchard, or well fenced or improved field, neither village or town, or in any respect the least provision for posterity. This monstrous custom, so opposite to the feel- ings of mankind, was probably perpetuated by the policy of the chiefs. In the first place, the power of partitioning beinglodged in their hands, made them the most absolute of tyrants, being the dispensers of the property as well as of the liberty of their subjects. In the second place it had the appearance of adding to the number of their savage armies ; for, where there was no improvement or tillage, war was pursued as an occupation. ' In the early history of Ireland, we find several instances of chieftains discountenancing tillage; and so late as Eliza beth's reign, Moryson says, that " Sir Neal Garve restrain- ed his people from ploughing, that they might assist him to do any mischief." ' — (p. 9S — 102.) These quotations and observations will enable us to state a few plain facts for the recollection of our Eng- lish readers. 1st, Ireland was never subdued till the re- bellion in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 2d, for four hundred years before that period, the two nations had been almost constantly at war ; and in consequence of this, a deep and irreconcileable hatred existed between ,the people within and without the pale. 3d, The Irish, at the accession of Queen Elizabeth, were unquestion- ably the most barbarous people in Europe. So much for what had happened previous to the reign of Queen Elizabeth : and let any man, who has the most superfi- cial knowledge of human affairs, determine, whether national hatred, proceeding from such powerful causes, could possibly have been kept under by the defeat of one single rebellion ; whether it would not have been easy to have foreseen, at that period, that a proud, brave, half-savage people, would cherish the memory of their wrongs for centuries to come, and break forth into arms at every period when they were particularly exasperated by oppression, or invited by opportunity. If the Protestant religion had spread in Ireland as it did in England, and if there never had been any differ- ence of faith between the two countries, — can it be be- lieved that the Irish, ill-treated, and infamously gov- erned as they have been, would never have made any efforts to shake off the yoke of England ? Surely there are causes enough to account for their impatience of that yoke, without endeavouring to inflame the zeal of ignorant people against the Catholic religion, and to make that mode of faith responsible for all the butche- ry which the Irish and English, for these last two cen- turies, have exercised upon each other. Every body, of course, must admit, that if to the causes of hatred al- ready specified, there be added the additional cause of religious distinction, this last will give greater force (and what is of more consequence to observe, give a name) to the whole aggregate motive. But what Mr. Parnell contends for, and clearly and decisively proves, is, that many of those sanguinary scenes attributed to the Catholic religion, are to be partly imputed to causes totally disconnected from religion ;' that the unjust in- vasion, and the tyrannical, infamous policy of the Eng- lish, are to take their full share of blame with the soph- isms and plots of Catholic priests. In the reign of Henry the Eighth, Mr. Parnell shows, that feudal sub- mission was readily paid to him by all the Irish chiefs ; that the Reformation was received without the slight- est opposition ; and that the troubles which took place at that period in Ireland, are to be entirely attributed to the ambition and injustice of Henry. In the reign of Queen Mary, there was no recrimination upon the Protestants ; — a striking proof, that the bigotry of the Catholic religion had not, at that period, risen to any great height in Ireland. The insurrections of the va- rious Irish princes were as numerous, during this reign, as they had been in the two preceding reigns — a circumstance rather difficult of explanation, if, as is commonly believed, the Catholic religion was at that period the main spring of men's actions. In the reign of Elizabeth, the Catholic in the pale regularly fought against the Catholic out of the pale. O'Sullivan, a bigoted Papist, reproaches them with doing so. Speaking of the reign of James the First, he says, l And now the eyes even of the English-Irish' (the Catholics of the pale) l were opened ; and they cursed their former folly for helping the heretic' The English government were so sensible of the loyalty of the Irish-English Catholics, that they intrusted them with the most confidential services. The Earl of Kil- dare was the principal instrument in waging war against the chieftams of Leix and Offal. William O'Bourge, another Catholic, was created Lord Castle Connel for his eminent services ; and MacGully Pa* trick, a priest, was the state spy. We presume that this wise and manly conduct of Queen Elizabeth was 26 WO&KS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. utterly unknown both to the Pastrycook and the Secre- tary of State, who have published upon the dangers of employing Catholics, even against foreign enemies ; and in those publications have said a great deal about the "wisdom of our ancestors — the usual topic whene- ver the folly of their descendants is to be defended. To whatever other of our ancestors they may allude, they may spare all compliments to this illustrious Princess, who would certainly have kept the worthy confectioner to the composition of tarts, and most pro- bably furnished him with the productions of the Right Honorable Secretary, as the means of conveying those juicy delicacies to an hungry and discerning public. In the next two reigns, Mr. Parnell shows by what injudicious measures of the English government the spirit of Catholic opposition was gradually formed ; for that it did produce powerful effects at a subsequent period, he does not deny ; but contends only (as we nave before stated) , that these effects have been much overrated, and ascribed solely to the Catholic religion, when other causes have at least had an equal agency in bringing them about. He concludes with some general remarks on the dreadful state of Ireland, and the contemptible folly and bigotry of the English ;* — remarks full of truth, of good sense, and of political courage How melancholy to reflect, that there would be still some chance of saving England from the general wreck of empires, but that it may not be saved, because one politician will lose two thousand a year by it, and another three thousand — a third a place in re- version, and a fourth a pension for his aunt ! — Alas ! these are the powerful causes which have always set- tled the destiny of great kingdoms, and which may level Old England, with all its boasted freedom, and boasted wisdom, to the dust. Nor is it the least singular among the political phenomena of the present day, that the sole consideration which seems to influence the un- bigoted part of the English people, in this great question of Ireland, is a regard for the personal feel- ings of the Monarch. Nothing is said or thought of the enormous risk to which Ireland is exposed, — nothing of the gross injustice with which the Catho- lics are treated, — nothing of the lucrative apostasy of those from whom they experience this treatment ; but the only concern by which we all seem agitated is, that the King must not be vexed in his old age. We have a great respect for the King ; and wish him all the happiness compatible with the happiness of his people. But these are not times to pay foolish compliments to Kings, or the sons of Kings, or to any body else : this journal has always preserved its character for courage and honesty ; and it shall do so to the last. If the people of this country are solely occupied in considering what is personally agreeable to the King, without considering what is for his perma- nent good, and for the safety of his dominions ; if all public men, quitting the common vulgar scramble for emolument, do not concur in conciliating the people of Ireland ; if the unfounded alarms, and the compara- tively trifling interests of the clergy, are to supersede the great question of freedom or slavery, it does ap- pear to us quite impossible that so mean and foolish a people can escape that destruction which is ready to burst upon them ; — a destruction so imminent, that it can only be averted by arming all in our defence who would evidently be sharers in our ruin, — and by such a change of system as may save us from the hazard of being ruined by the ignorance and cowardice of any general, by the bigotry or the ambition of any minis- ter, or by the well meaning scruples of any human being, let his dignity be what it may. These minor and domestic dangers we must endeavour firmly auu temperately to avert as we best can; but, at all haz- ards, we must keep out the destroyer from among us, or perish like wise and brave men in the attempt. * It would be as well, in future, to say no more of the revocation of the edict of Nantz. METHODISM. (Edinburgh Review, 1808.) Causes of the increase of Methodism and Dissension. By Robert Acklem Ingram, B. D. Hatchard. This is the production of an honest man, possesses of a fair share of .under standing. He cries out lustily, (and not before it is time) upon the increase of Metho- dism ; proposes various remedies for the diminution of this evil ; and speaks his opinions with a freedom which does him great credit, and convinces us that he is a respectable man. The clergy are accused of not exerting themselves. What temporal motive, Mr. Ingram asks, have they for exertion ? Would a curate, who had served thirty years upon a living in the most exemplary manner, secure to himself, by such a con- duct, the slightest right or title to promotion in the church ? What can you expect of a whole profession, in which there is no more connection between merit and reward, than between merit and beauty, or merit and strength? This is the substance of what Mr. Ingram says upon this subject; and he speaks the truth. We regret, however, that this gentleman has thought fit to use against the dissenters, the exploded clamour of Jacobinism ; or that he deems it necessary to call into the aid of the Church, the power of into- lerant laws, in spite of the odious and impolitic tests to which the dissenters are still subjected. We believe them to be very good subjects ; and we have no doubt but that any further attempt upon their religious liberties, without reconciling them to the Church, would have a direct tendency to render them disaf- fected towards the State. Mr. Ingram (whose book, by the by, is very dull and tedious) has fallen into the common mistake of supposing his readers to be as well acquainted with the subject as himself; and has talked a great deal about dissenters, without giving us any distinct notion of the spirit which pervades these people — the objects they have in view — or the degree of talent which is to be found among them. To remedy this very capital defect, we shall endeavour to set before the eyes of the reader a complete section of the tabernacle ; and to present him with a near view of those sectaries, who are at present at work upon the destruction of the or- thodox churches, and are destined hereafter, perhaps, to act as conspicuous a part in public affairs, as the children of Sion did in the time of Cromwell. The sources from which we shall derive our extracts, are the Evangelical and Methodistical Magazines for the year 1807; works which are said to be circulated to the amount of 18,000 or 20,000 each, every month; and which contain the sentiments of Arminian and Calvinistic Methodists, and of the evangelical clergy- men of the Church of England. We shall use the term Methodism, to designate these three classes of fanatics, not troubling ourselves to point out the finer shades, and nicer discriminations of lunacy, but treat- ing them all as in one general conspiracy against com- mon sense, and rational orthodox Christianity. In reading these very curious productions, we seemed to be in a new world, and to have got among a set of beings, of whose existence we had hardly before enter- tained the slightest conception. It has been our good fortune to be acquainted with many truly religious persons, both in the Presbyterian and Episcopalian churches ; and from their manly, rational, and serious characters, our conceptions of true practical piety have been formed. To these confined habits, and to our want of proper introductions among the children of light and grace, any degree of surprise is to be at- tributed, which may be excited by the publications before us ; which, under opposite circumstances, would (we doubt not) have proved as great a source of in- struction and delight to the Edinburgh reviewers, as they are to the most melodious votaries of the taber- nacle. It is not wantonly, or with the most distant inten- tion of trifling upon serious subjects, that we call the attention of the public to these sort of publications. Their circulation is so enormous and so increasing — they contain the opinions, and display the habits of so many human beings — that they cannot but be objects of curiosity and importance. The common METHODISM. 27 and the middling classes of people are the purchasers ; and the subject is religion — though not that religion certainly which is established by law, and encouraged by national provision. This may lead to unpleasant circumstances, or it may not ; but it carries with it a sort of aspect, which ought to insure to it serious attention and reflection. It is impossible to arrive at any knowledge of a reli- gious sect, by merely detailing the settled articles of their belief: it may be the fashion of such a sect to insist upon some articles very slightly ; to bring for ward others prominently ; and to consider some por- tion of their formal creed as obsolete. As the know- ledge of the jurisprudence of any country can never be obtained by the perusal of volumes which contain some statutes that are daily enforced, and others that have been silently antiquated : in the same manner, the practice, the preaching, and the writing of sects, are comments absolutely necessary to render the pe- rusal of their creed of any degree of utility. It is the practice, we believe, with the orthodox, both in the Scotch and English churches, to insist very rarely, and very discreetly, upon the particular in- stances of the interference of Divine Providence. They do not pretend that the world is governed only by general laws — that a Superintending Mind never interferes for particular purposes ; but such purposes are represented to be of a nature very awful and sublime — when a guilty people are to be destroyed, when an oppressed nation is to be lifted up, and some remarkable change introduced into the order and arrangement of the world. With this kind of theology we. can have no quarrel; we bow to its truth; we are satisfied, with the moderation which it exhibits ; and we have no doubt of the salutary effect which it pro- duces upon the human heart. Let us now come to those special cases of the interference of Providence as they are exhibited in the publications before us. An interference with respect to the Rev. James Moody. 1 Mr. James Moody was descended from pious ancestors, who resided at Paisley ; — his heart was devoted to music, dancing, and theatrical amusements ; of the latter he was so fond that he used to meet with some men of a similar cast to rehearse plays, and used to entertain a hope that he should make a figure upon the stage. To improve himself m music, he would rise very early, even in severely cold weather, and practice on the German flute : by his skill in music and singing, with his general powers of entertaining, he became a desirable companion : he would sometimes venture to profane the day of God, by turning it into a season of carnal pleasure : "and would join in excursions on the water, to various parts of the vicinity of London. But the time was approaching, when the Lord, who had designs of mercy for him, and for many others by his means, was about to stop him in his vain career of sin and folly. There were two professing servants in the house where he lived; one of these was a porter, who, in brushing his clothes, would say, "Master James, this will never do — you must be otherwise employed — you must be a minister of the gos- pel." This worthy man, earnestly wishing his conversion, put into his hands that excellent book which God hath so much owned, Allein's Alarm to the Unconverted. 'About this time it pleased God to visit him with a disorder in his eyes, occasioned, as it was thought, *by his sitting up in the night to improve himself in drawing. The apprehension of losing his sight occasioned many serious reflections; his mind was impressed with the importance and necessity of seeking the salvation of his soul, and he was induced to attend the preaching of the gospel. The first sermon that he heard with a desire to profit, was at Spa-fields Chapel ; a place where he had formerly frequented, when it was a temple of vanity and dissipation. Strong convictions of sin fixed on his mind ; and he continued to attend the preached word, parti- cularly at Tottenham-court Chapel. Every sermon increased his sorrow and grief that he had not earlier sought the Lord. It was a considerable time before he found comfort from the gospel. He has stood in the free part of the chapel, hearing with such emotion, that the tears have flowed from his eyes in torrents; and when he has returned home, he has continued a great part of the night on his knees, praying over what he had taard. 1 The change effected by the power of the Holy Spirit on iis heart now became visible to all. Nor did he halt between two opinions, as some persons do ; he became at once a de- cided character, and gave up for ever all his vain pursuits and amusements ; devoting himself with as much resolution and diligence to the service of God, as he had formerly done to folly.'— Ev. Mag. p. 194. An interference respecting Cards. « A clergyman not far distant from the spot on which these lines' were written, was spending an evening— not in his closet wrestling with his Divine Master for the communica- tion of that grace which is so peculiarly necessary for the faithful discharge of the ministerial function— not in his study searching the sacred oracles of divine truth for ma- terials wherewith to prepare for his public exercises and feed the flock under his care— not in pastoral visits to that flock, to inquire into the state of their souls, and endeavour, by his pious and affectionate conversation, to conciliate their esteem, and promote their edification, but at the card table.'— After stating that when it was his turn to deal, he dropped down dead, < It is worthy of remark (says the wri- ter,) that within a very few years this was the third character in the neighbourhood which had been summoned from the card table to the bar of God.' — Ev. Mag. p. 262. Interference respecting Swearing — a Bee the instrument* * A young man is stung by a bee, upon which he buffets the bees with Ms hat, uttering at the same time the most dreadful oaths and imprecations. In the midst of his fury, one of these little combatants stung him upon the tip of that unruly member (his tongue,) which was then employed in blaspheming his maker. Thus can the Lord engage one of the meanest of his creatures in reproving the bold trans- gressor who dares to take his name in vain.' — Ev. Mag. p. 363. Interference with respect to David Wright, who was cured of Atheism and Scrofula by one Sermon of Mr. Coles. This case is too long to quote in the language and with the evidences of the writers. The substance of of it is what our title implies. — David Wright was a man with scrofulous legs and atheistical principles ; — being with difficulty persuaded to hear one sermon from Mr. Coles, he limped to the church in extreme pain, and arrived there after great exertions ; — during church time he was entirely converted, walked home with the greatest ease, and never after experienced the slightest return of scrofula or infidelity. — Ev. Mag. p. 444. The displeasure of Providence is expressed at Captain Scott's going to preach in Mr. Romaine's Chapel. The sign of this displeasure is a violent storm of thunder and lightening just as he came into town. — Ev. Mag. p. 537. Interference with respect to an Innkeeper, who was de- stroyed for having appointed a cock-fight at the very time that the service was beginning at the Methodist Chapel. '"Nevermind," says the innkeeper, "I'll get a greater con- gregation than the Methodist Parson; — we'll have a cock fight." But what is man! how insignificant his designs, how impotent his strength, how ill-fated his plans, when opposed to that Being who is infinite in wisdom, boundless in power, terrible in judgment, and who frequently reverses, and sud- denly renders abortive, the projects of the wicked! A few days after the avowal of his intention, the innkeeper sickened,' &c. &c. And then the narrator goes on to state, that his corpse was carried by the meeting-house, l on the day, and exactly at the time, the deceased had fixed for the cock-fight.' — Meth. Mag. p. 125. In page 167, Meth. Mag., a father, mother, three sons, and a sister, are destroyed by particular inter, position. In page 222, Meth. Mag., a dancing master is de- stroyed for irreligion — another person for swearing at a cock-fight — and a third for pretending to be deaf and dumb. These are called recent and authentic ac- counts of God's avenging providence. So much for the miraculous interposition of Provi- dence in cases where the Methodists are concerned : we shall now proceed to a few specimens of the energy of their religious feelings. Mr. Roberts's feelings in the month of May. 1793. 1 But, all this time, my soul was stayed upon God : my de- sires increased, and my mind was kept in a sweet praying frame, a going out of myself, as it were, and taking shelter in him. Every breath I drew, ended in a prayer. I felt myself helpless as an infant dependent upon God for all 28 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. things. I was in a constant daily expectation of receiving all I wanted; and, on Friday, May 31st, under Mr. Ruther- ford's sermon, though .entirely independent of it, (for I could not give any account of what he bad been preachin about,) I was given to feel that God was waiting to be very gracious to me; the spirit of prayer and supplication was given me, and such an assurance that I was accepted in the Beloved, as I cannot describe, but which I shall never for- get.'— Meth. Mag. p. 35. Mrs. Elizabeth Price and her Attendants hear sacred music on a sudden. 'A few nights before her death, while some neighbours and her husband were sitting up with her, a sudden and joyful sound of music was heard by all present, although some of them were carnal people; at which time she thought she saw her crucified Saviour before her, speaking these words with power to her soul, "Thy sins are forgiven thee, and I love thee freely." After this she never doubted of her acceptance with God; and on Christmas day following was taken to celebrate the Redeemer's birth in the Paradise of God. Michael Cousin.' — Meth. Mag. p. 137. T. L. } a Sailor on board of the Stag Frigate has a special revelation from our Saviour. 'October 26th, being the Lord's day, he had a remaikable manifestation of God's love to his soul. That blessed morn- ing he was much grieved by hearing the wicked use profane language, when Jesus revealed himself to him, and impres- sed on his mind those words, « Follow Me." This was a precious day to him.' — Meth. Mag. p. 140. The manner in which Mr. Thomas Cook was accus- tomed to accost S. B. « Whenever he met me in the street, his salutation used to be, "Have you free and lively intercourse with God to-day? Are you giving your whole heart to God?" I have known him on such occasions speak in so pertinent a manner, that I have been astonished at his knowledge of my state. Meet- ing me one morning, he said, "I have been praying for you; you have had a sore conflict, though all is well now." At another time he asked, "Have you been much exercised these few days, for I have been led to pray that you might especially have suffering grace." ' — Meth. Mag. p. 247. Mr. John Kestin on his death-bed. * "Oh, my dear, I am now going to glory, happy, happy, happy. I am going to sing praises to God and the Lamb ; I am going to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I think I can see my Jesus without a glass between. I can, I feel I can, dis- cern, < my title clear to mansions in the skies.' Come, Lord Jesus, come ! why are thy chariot- wheels so long- delay- ing ?" *—Ev. Mag. p. 124. ' The Reverend Mr. Mead's sorrow for his sins. JnSS?^ "^ 1 } him U ? t0 tem P° rai 7 desperation ; his in- expressible grief poured itself forth in groans: « Oh that I had never sinned against God! I have a hell hereupon earth, and there is a hell for me in eternity !" One Lord's day, very early in the morning, he was awoke by a tem- IT} «/ £ Under ,/^ li^tning; and imagining it to be the ^ f } ■ WOrld ' J" s agonv was S reat > supposing the great day of divine wrath was come, and he unprepared? but nappy to find it not so.'— Ev. Mag. p. 147. Similar case of Mr. John Robinson. ' A A ^ out two hours before he died, he was in great a«- nv of body and mind: it appeared that the enemy was permit ted to struggle with him; and being greatly agitated, he cried out, « Ye powers of darkness, begone !" This however did not last long : "the prey was taken from the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered," although he was not permit- ted to tell of his deliverance, but lay quite still and com- posed.'— Ev. Mag. p. 177. The Reverend William Tennant in an heavenly trance. '"While I was conversing with my brother," said he, « on the state of my soul, and the fears I had entertained for my future welfare, I found myself in an instant, in an- other state of existence, under the direction of a superior being, who ordered me to follow him. I was wafted alon- I know not how, till I beheld at a distance an ineffable glory, the impression of which on my mind it is impossible to communicate to mortal man. I immediately reflected on my happy change ; and thought, Well, blessed be God ! I am safe at last, notwithstanding all my fears. I saw an in- numerable host of happy beings surrounding the inexpressi- ble glory, m acts of adoration and joyous worship ; but I Old not ee any bodily shape or representation in the glori- ous appearance. I heard things unutterable. I heard their songs and hallelujahs of thanksgiving and praise, with un- speakable rapture. I felt joy unutterable and full of glory. I then applied to my conductor, and requested leave to join the happy throng." ' — Ev. Mag. p. 251. The following we consider to be one of the most shocking histories we ever read. God only knows how many such scenes take place in the gloomy annals of Methodism. « A young man, of the name of S C , grandson to a late eminent Dissenting minister, and brought up by him, came to reside at K g, about the year 1603. He attended at the Baptist place of worship, not only on the Lord's day, but frequently at the week-day lectures and prayer-meetings. He was supposed by some to be seriously inclined ; but his opinion of himself was, that he had never experienced that divine change, without which no man can be saved. « However that might be, there is reason to believe he had been for some years under powerful convictions of his mis- erable condition as a sinner. In June 1806, these convic- tions were observed to increase, and that in a more than common degree. From that time he went into no company, but, when he was not at work, kept in his chamber, where he was employed in singing plaintive hymns, and bewail- ing his lost and perishing state. ' He had about him several religious people ; but could not be induced to open his mind to them, or to impart to any one the cause of his distress. Whether this contributed to increase it or not, it did increase, till his health w.as greatly affected by it, and he was scarcely able to work at his business. « While he was at meeting on Lord's day, September 14th, he was observed to labour under very great emotion of mind, especially when he heard the following words. "Sin ner, if you die without an interest in Christ, you will sink into the regions of eternal death." ' On the Saturday evening following, he intimated to the mistress of the house where he lodged, that some awful judgment was about to come upon him; and as he should not be able to be at meeting next day, requested that an at- tendant might be procured to stay with him. She replied, that she would herself stay at home, and wait upon him ; which she did. 1 On the Lord's day he was in great agony of mind. His mother was sent for, and some religious friends visited Mm; but all was of no avail. That night was a night dreadful beyond conception. The horror which he en- dured brought on all the symptoms of raging madness. He desired the attendants not to come near him, lest they should be burnt. He said that " the bed-curtains were in flames, — that he smelt the brimstone, — that devils were come to fetch him, — that there was no hope for him, for that he had sinned against light and conviction, and that he should certainly go to hell." It was with difficulty he could be kept in bed. 1 An apothecary being sent for, as soon as he entered the house, and heard his dreadful howlings, he inquired if he had not been bitten by a mad dog. His appearance, like- wise, seemed to justify such a suspicion, his countenance resembling that of a wild beast more than of a man. 'Though he had no feverish heat, yet his pulse beat above 150 in a minute. To abate the mania, a quantity of blood was taken from him, a blister was applied, his head was shaved, cold water was copiously poured over him, and fox-glove was administered. By these means his fury was abated ; but his mental agony continued, and all the symp toms of madness which his bodily strength, thus reduced, would allow, till the following Thursday. On that day he seemed to have recovered his reason, and to be calm in his mind. In the evening he sent for the apothecary ; and wished to speak with him by himself. The latter, on his coming, desired every one to leave the room, and thus ad- dressed him : " C , have you not something on your mind?" "Ay," answered he, " that is it!" He then ac- knowledged that, early in the month of June, he had gone to a fair in the neighbourhood, in company with a number of wicked young men : that they drank at a public-house together till he was in a measure intoxicated; and that from thence they went into other company, where lie was crim- inally connected with -a harlot. "I have been a miserable creature," continued he, " ever since but during the last three days and three nights, I have been in a statn of de- speration." He intimated to the apothecary, that he could not bear to tell this story to his minister : "But," said be, " do you inform him that I shall not die in despair , xor light has broken in upon me ; I have been led to the great Sacrifice for sin, and I now hope in him for salvation." ' From this time his mental distress ceased, his counte- nance became placid, and his conversation, instead of being taken up as before with fearful exclamations con- cerning devils and the wrath to come, was now confined to the dying love of Jesus ! The apothecary was of oj>i- METHODISM. 29 nion, that if his strength had not been so much exhausted, he would now have been in a state of religious transport. His nervous system, however, had received such a shock, that his recovery was doubtful ; and it seemed certain, that if he did recover, he would sink into a state of idiocy. He survived this interview but a few days.' — Ev. Mag. p. 412, 413. , A religious observer stands at a turnpike gate an a Sunday, to witness the profane crowd passing by ; he sees a man driving very clumsily in a gig ; the expe- rience of the driver provokes the following pious obser- vations. * " What (I said to myself,) if a single outward circum- stance should happen ! Should the horse take fright, or the wheel on either side get entangled, or the gig upset — in either case what can preserve him? And should a morn- ing so fair and promising bring on evil before night — should death on his pale horse appear — what follows ? My mind shuddered at the images I had raised." ' — Ev. Mag. p. 558, 559. Miss Louisa Cooke's rapturous state. 1 From this period she lived chiefly in retirement, either in reading the sacred volume on her knees, or in pouring out her soul in prayer to God. While thus employed, she was not unfrequently indulged with visits from her gra- cious Lord ; and sometimes she felt herself to be surrounded, as it were, by his gracious presence. After her return to Bristol, her frame of mind became so heavenly, that she seemed often to be dissolved in the love of God her Sa- viour.' — Ev. Mag. p. 576, 577. Objection to Almanacks. ' Let those who have been partial to such vain produc- tions, only read Isaiah xlvii. 1 3, and Daniel ii. 27 ; and they will here see what they are to be accounted of, and in what company they are to be found ; and let them learn to despise their equivocal and artful insinuations, which are too frequently blended with profanity ; for is it not profanity in them to attempt to palm their frauds upon mankind by scripture quotations, which they seldom fail to do, especially Judges v. 20, and Job xxxviii. 31 ? neither of which teaches nor warrants any such practice. Had Baruch or Deborah consulted the stars - ? No such thing.' — Ev, Mag. p. 600. This energy of feeling will be found occasionally to meddle with, and disturb the ordinary occupations and amusements of life, and to raise up little qualms of conscience, which, instead of exciting respect, border, we fear, somewhat too closely upon the ludi- crous. A Methodist Footman. ' A gentleman's servant, who has left a good place be- cause he was ordered to deny his master when actually at home, wishes something on this subject may be introduced into this work, that persons who are in the habit of deny- ing themselves in the above manner may be convinced of its evil.'— Ev. Mag. p. 72. Doubts if it is right to take interest for money. 1 Usury.— Sir, I beg the favour of you to insert the follow- ing case of conscience. I frequently find in scripture, that Usury is particularly condemned; and that it is repre- sented as the character of a good man, that " he hath not given forth upon usury, neither hath taken any increase," Ezek. xviii. 8, &c. .1 wish, therefore, to know how such passages are to be understood ; and whether the taking of interest for money, as is universally practiced among us, can be reconciled with the word and will of God? Q,.' — Ev. Mag. p. 74. Dancing ill suited for a creature on trial for eternity. ' If dancing be a waste of time ; if the precious hours de- voted to it may be better employed ; if it be a species of trifling ill suited to a creature on trial for eternity, and hastening towards it on the swift wings of time ; if it be incompatible with genuine repentance, true faith in Christ, supreme love to God, and a state of genuine devotedness to him, — then is dancing a practice utterly opposed to the whole spirit and temper of Christianity, and subversive of the best interests of the rising generation.'— Meth. Mag. p. 127, 128. The Methodists consider themselves as constituting a chosen and separate people, living in a land of athe- ists and voluptuaries. The expressions by which they designate their own sects, are the dear people— the elect — the people of God. The rest of mankind are carnal people — the people of this world, &c. &c. The children of Israel were not more separated, through the favour of God, from the Egyptians, than the Me- thodists are, in their own estimation, from the rest of mankind. We had hitherto supposed that the dis- ciples of the Established churches in England and Scotland had been Christians ; and that, after bap- tism, duly performed by the appointed minister, and participation in the customary worship of these two churches, Christianity was the religion of which they were to be considered as members. We see, how- ever, in these publications, men of twenty or thirty years of age first called to a knowledge of Christ un- der a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Venn, — or first admitted into the church of Christ under a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Romaine. The apparent admission turns out to have been a mere mockery ; and the pseudo-christian to have had no religion at all, till the business was really and effectually done under these sermons by Mr. Venn and Mr. Romaine. » An awful and general departure from the Christian Faith in the Church of England. « A second volume of Mr. Cooper's sermons is before us stamped with the same broad seal of truth and excellence as the former. Amidst the awful and general departure from the faith, as once delivered to the saints, in the Church of England, and sealed by the blood of our reformers, it is pleasing to observe that there is a remnant, according to the election of grace, who continue rising up to testify the gospel of the grace *of God, and to call back their fellows to the consideration of the great and leading doctrines on which the Reformation was built, and theChurch of England by law established. The author of these sermons, avoiding all matters of more doubtful disputation, avowedly attaches himself to the great fundamental truths; and on the two substantial pillars, the Jachin and Boaz of the living temple, erects his superstructure. 1. Justification by faith, without works, free and full, by grace alone, through the redemp- tion which is in Jesus Christ, stands at the commencement of the first volume ; and on its side rises in the beauty of holiness,' Scc.—Ev. Mag. p. 79. Mr. Robinson called to the knowledge of Christ under Mr. Venn's Sermon. ' Mr. Robinson was called in early life to the knowledge of Christ, under a sermon at St. Dunstan's, by the late Rev. Mr. Venn, from Ezek. xxxvi. 25, 26 ; the remembrance ot which greatly refreshed his soul upon his death-bed.' — JEr. Mag. p. 176. Christianity introduced into the Parish of Launton t near Bicester, in the year 1807. 'A very general spirit of inquiry having appeared for some time in the village of Launton, near Bicester, some serious persons were excited to communicate to them the word of life.'— Ev. Mag. p. 380. We learn in page 128, Meth. Mag., that twelve months had elapsed from the time of Mrs. Cocker's joining the people of God, before she obtained a clear sense of forgiveness. A religious Hoy sets off every week for Margate. { Religious Passengers accommodated. — To the Editor. — Sir, it afforded me considerable pleasure to see upon the cover of«your Magazine for the present month, an advertisement, announcing the establishment of a packet, to sail weekly between London and Margate, during the season; which appears to have been set on foot for the accommodation of religious characters; and in which "no profane conversa- tion is to be allowed." < To those among the followers of a crucified Redeemer, who are in the habit of visiting the Isle of Thanet in the summer, and who, for the sea air, or from other circum- stances, prefer travelling by water, such a conveyance must certainly be a desideratum, especially if they have expe- rienced a mortification similar to that of the writer, in the course of the last summer, when shut up in a cabin with a mixed multitude, who spoke almost all languages but that of Canaan. Totally unconnected with the concern, and personally a stranger to the worthy owner, I take the liberty of recommending this vessel to the notice of my fellow - Christians ; persuaded that they will think themselves bound to patronize and encourage an undertaking that has the honour of the dear Redeemer for its professed object. It ought ever to be remembered, that every talent we possess, whether large or small, is given us in trust to beJLaid out for 30 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. God; and I have often thought that Christians act incon- sistently with tb/ur high profession, when they omit, even in their most rummon and trivial expenditures, to give a decided prefei ence to the friend of their Lord. I do not, however, anucipate any such ground of complaint in this instance; but rather believe that the religious world in general will cheerfully unite with me, while I most cordially wish success to the Princess of Wales Yacht, and pray that she may ever sail under the divine protection and blessing; that the humble followers of Him who spoke the storm into a calm, when crossing the lake of Gennesareth, may often feel their hearts glowing with sacred ardour, while in her cabins they enjoy sweet communion with their Lord and with each other ; and that strangers, who may be provi- dentially brought among them, may see so much of the beauty and excellency of the religion of Jesus exemplified in their conduct and conversation, that they may be con- strained to say, "We will go with you, for we perceive that God is with you. — Your God shall be our God, and his people shall henceforth be our chosen companions and associates." I am, Mr. Editor, your obliged friend and sister in the gospel, E. T.—'Ev. Mag. p. 268. A religious newspaper is announced in the Ev. M. for September. — It is said of common newspapers, ' That they are absorbed in temporal concerns, while the consideration of those which are eternal is postponed ; the business of this life has superseded the claims of immortality ; and the monarchs of the world have engrossed an attention which would have been more properly devoted to the Saviour of the universe.' It is then stated, ' that the columns of this paper ( The Instructor, Price 6d.) will be supplied by pious re- flections ; suitable comments to improve the dispensa- tions of Providence will be introduced ; and the whole conducted with an eye to our spiritual, as well as temporal welfare. The work will contain the latest news up to four o'clock on the day of publication, to- gether with the most recent religious occurrences. The prices of stock, and correct market-tables, will also be accurately detailed.' — Ev. Mag. September Ad- vertisement. The Eclectic Review is also understood to be carried on upon Methodistical principles. Nothing can evince more strongly the influence which Methodism now exercises upon common life, and the fast hold it has got of the people, than the advertisements which are circulated every month in these very singular publications. On the cover of a single number, for example, we have the following : — ' Wanted, by Mr. Turner, shoemaker, a steady appren- tice; he will have the privilege of attending the ministry of the gospel; — a premium expected, p. 3. — Wanted, a serious young woman, as servant of all work, 3. — Wanted, a man of serious character, who can shave, 3. — Wanted, a serious woman to assist in a shop, 3. — A young person in the millinery line wishes to be in a serious family, 4. — Wants a place, a young man who has brewed in a serious family, 4. — Ditto, a young woman of evangelical principles, 4. — Wanted, an active serious shopman, 5. — To be sold, an eligible residence, with sixty acres of land ; gospel preached in three places within half a mile, 5. — A single gentleman may be accommodated with lodging in a small serious family, 5. — To let, a genteel first floor in an airy situation near the Tabernacle, 6. — Wanted, a governess, of evan- gelical principles and corresponding character, 10.' The religious vessel we have before spoken of, is thus advertised : — eing confounded with enthusiasts and fanatics. We cannot conclude without the most pointed repro- bation of the low mischief of the Christian Observer ; a publication which appears to have no other method of discussing a question fairly open to discussion, than that of accusing their antagonists of infidelity. No art can be more unmanly, or, if its consequences are foreseen, more wicked, if this publication had been the work of a single individual, we might have passed it over in silent disgust ; but as it is looked upon as the organ of a great political religious party in this country, we think it right to notice the very unworthy manner in which they are attempting to extend their influence. For ourselves, if there were a fair prospect of carrying the gospel into regions where it was before unknown, — if such a project did not expose the best possessions of the country to extreme danger, and if it was in the hands of men who were discreet, as well as devout, we should consider it to be a scheme of true piety, benevolence, and wisdom : but the base- ness and malignity of fanaticism shall never prevent us from attacking its arrogance, its ignorance, and its activity. For what vice can be more tremendous than that which, while it wears the outward appearance of religion, destroys the happiness of man, and dishon- ours the name of God ? CATHOLICS. (Edinburgh Review, 1808.) History of the Penal Laws against the Irish Catholics, from the Treaty of Limerick to the Union. By Henry Parnell, Esq. M. P. The various publications which have issued from the press in favour of religious liberty, have now near- ly silenced the arguments of their opponents ; and, teaching sense to some, and inspiring others with shame, have left those only on the field who can neither learn nor blush. But, though the argument is given up, and the justice of the Catholic cause admitted, it seems to be gener- ally conceived, that their case, at present, is utterly hooeless ; and that, to advocate it any longer, will only irritate the oppressed, without producing any change of opinion in those by whose influence and authority that oppression is continued. To this opinion, unfortunately too prevalent, we have many reasons for not subscribing. We do not understand what is meant in this country by the notion, that a measure, of consummate wisdom and imperious necessity, is to be deferred for any time, or to depend upon any contingency. Whenever it can be made clear to the understanding of the great mass of enlightened people, that any system of poli- tical conduct is necessary to the public welfare, every obstacle (as it ought) will be swept away before it ; and as we conceive it to be by no means improbable, that the country may, ere long, be placed in a situa- tion where its safety or ruin will depend upon its con- duct towards the Catholics, we sincerely believe we are doing our duty in throwing every possible light on this momentous question. Neither do we understand where this passive submission to ignorance and error is to end. Is it confined to religion ? or does it ex- tend to war and peace, as well as religion ? Would it be tolerated, if any man were to say, i Abstain from all arguments in favour of peace ; the court have re- solved upon eternal war ; and, as you cannot have peace, to what purpose urge the necessity of it?' We answer,— that courts must be presumed to be open to the influence of reason ; or, if they were not, to the influence of prudence and discretion, when they perceive the public opinion to be loudly and clearly against them. To lie by in timid and indolent silence, —to suppose an inflexibility, in which no court ever could, under pressing circumstances, persevere — and to neglect a regular and vigorous appeal to public opinion, is to give up all chance of doing good, and to abandon the only instrument by which, the few are ever prevented from ruining the many. It is folly to talk of any other ultimatum in govern- ment than perfect justice to the fair claims of the sub- ject. The concessions to the Irish Catholics in 1792 were to be the ne plus ultra. Every engine was set on foot to induce the grand juries in Ireland to peti- tion against further concessions ; and, in six months afterwards, government were compelled to introduce, themselves, those further relaxations of the penal code, of which they had just before assured the Catholics they must abandon all hope. Such is the absurdity of supposing that a few interested and ignorant indi- viduals can postpone, at their pleasure and caprice, the happiness of millions. As to the ieeling of irritation with which such con- tinued discussion may inspire the Irish Catholics, we are convinced that no opinion could be so prejudicial to the cordial union which we hope may always sub- sist between the two countries, as that all the efforts of the Irish were unavailing, — that argument was hopeless, — that their case was prejudged with a sullen inflexibility which circumstances could not influence, pity soften, or reason subdue. We are by no means convinced, that the decorous silence recommended upon the Catholic question would be rewarded by those future concessions, of which many persons appear to be so certain. We have a strange incredulity where persecution is to be abolish- ed, and any class of men restored to their indisputa- ble rights. When we see it done, we will believe it. Till it is done, we shall always consider it to be high- ly improbable — much too improbable — to justify the smallest relaxation in the Catholics themselves, or in those who are well-wishers to their cause. When the fanciful period at present assigned for the emancipa- tion arrives, new scruples may arise — fresh forbear- ance be called for — and the operations of common sense be deferred for another generation. Toleration never had a present tense, nor taxation a future one. The answer which Paul received from Felix, he owed to the subject on which he spoke. When justice and righteousness were his theme, Felix told him to go away, and he would hear him some other time. All men who have spoken to courts upon such disagree- able topics, have received the same answer. Felix, however, trembled when he gave it ; but his fear was ill-directed. He trembled at the subject — he ought to have trembled at the delay. Little or .nothing is to be expected from the shame of deferring what is so wicked and perilous to defer. Pro- fligacy in taking office is so extreme, that we have no doubt public men may be found, who, for half a cen- tury, would postpone all remedies for a, pestilence, if the preservation of their places depended upon the propagation of the virus. To us, such kind of conduct conveys no other action than that of sordid, avaricious impudence : it puts to sale the best interests of the country for some improvement in the wines and meats and carriages which a man uses — and encourages a new political morality which may always postpone any other great measure — and every other great measure as well as the emancipation of the Catholics. We terminate this apologetical preamble with ex- pressing the most earnest hope that the Catholics will not, from any notion that their cause is effectually carried, relax in any one constitutional effort necessary to their purpose. Their cause is the cause of common sense and justice ; the safety of England and of the world may depend upon it. It rests upon the soundest principles ; leads to the most important consequences ; and therefore cannot be too frequently brought before the notice of the public. The book before us is written by Mr. Henry Parnell, the brother of Mr. William Parnell, author of the Historical Apology, reviewed in one of our late Num- bers ; and it contains a very well written history of the penal laws enacted against the Irish Catholics from the peace of Limerick, in the reign of King Wil liam, to the late Union. Of these we shall present a very short, and, we hope even to loungers, a readable abstract. The war carried on in Ireland against King William 44 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. cannot deserve the name of a rebellion :— it was a struggle for their lawful Prince, whom they had sworn to maintain; and wjiose zeal for the Catholic religion, whatever effect it might have produced in England, could not by them be considered as a crime. This war terminated by the surrender of Limerick, upon condi- tions by which the Catholics hoped, and very rationally hoped, to secure to themselves the free enjoyment of their religion in future, and an exemption from all those civil penalties and incapacities which the reign- ing creed is so fond of heaping upon its subjugated rivals. By the various articles of this treaty, they are to enjoy such privileges in the exercise of their religion, as they did enjoy in the time of Charles II : and the King promises upon the meeting of Parliament, l to endeavour to procure for them such further security in that particular, as may preserve them from any dis- turbance on account of their said religion.' They are to be restored to their estates, privileges, and immunities, as they enjoyed them in the time of Charles II. The gentlemen are to be allowed to carry arms ; and no other oath is to be tendered to the Catholics who sub- mit to King William than the oath of allegiance. These and other articles, King William ratifies for himself, his' heirs and successors, as far as in him lies ; and confirms the same and every other clause and matter therein contained. These articles were signed by the English general on the 3d of October, 1691 ; and diffused comfort, con- fidence, and tranquillity among the Catholics. On the 22d of October, the English Parliament excluded Ca- tholics from the Irish Houses of Lords and Commons, by compelling them to take the oaths of supremacy before admission. In 1695, the Catholics were deprived of all means of educating their children, at home or abroad, and of the privilege of being guardians to their own or to other person's children. Then all the Catholics were disarmed — and then all the priests banished. After this (probably by way of joke), an act was passed to confirm the treaty of Limerick — the great and glorious King William totally forgetting the contract he had entered into of recommending the religious liberties of the Catholics to the attention of Parliament. On the 4th of March, 1804, it was enacted, that any son of a Catholic who would turn Protestant, should succeed to the family estate, which from that moment could no longer be sold, or charged with debt and legacy. On the same day, Popish fathers were de- barred, by a penalty of 500Z., from being guardians to their own children. If the child, however young, de- clared himself a Protestant, he was to be delivered immediately to some Protestant relation. No Pro- testant to marry a Papist. No Papist to purchase land, or take a lease of land for more than thirty-one years. If the profits of the lands so leased by the Catholics amounted to above a certain rate settled by the act— farm to belong to the first Protestant who made the discovery. No Papist to be hi a line of entail; but the estate to pass on to the next Protestant heir, as if the Papist were dead. If a Papist dies intestate, and no Protestant heir can be found, property to be equally divided among all the sons ; or, if he has none, among all the daughters. By the 16th clause of this bill, no Papist to hold any office, civil or military. Not to dwell in Limerick or Galway, except on certain con ditions. Not to vote at elections. Not to hold advow- sons. In 1709, Papists were prevented from holding an annuity for life. If any son of a Papist chose to turn Protestant, and enrol the certificate of his conversion in the Court of Chancery, that Court is empowered to compel his father to state the value of his property upon oath, and to make out of that property a compe- tent allowance to the son, at their own discretion, not only for his present maintenance, but for his future portion after the death of his father. An increase of jointure to be enjoyed by Papist wives upon their con- version. Papists keeping schools to be prosecuted as convicts. Popish priests who are converted, to receive 30Z. per annum. Rewards are given by the same act for the discovery of the Popish clergy : 50Z. for discovering a Popish bishop ; 201. for a common Popish clergyman ; 101 for a Popish usher .' Two justices of the peace can compel any Papist over eighteen years of age to dis- close every particular which has come to his know- ledge respecting Popish priests, celebration of mass or Papist schools. Imprisonment for a year if he refuses to answer. Nobody can hold property in trus.. for a Catholic. Juries, in all trials growing out ot these statutes, to be Protestants. No Papist to take more than two apprentices, except in the linen trade. All the Catholic clergy to give in their names and places of abode at the quarter-sessions, and to keep no curates. Catholics not to serve on grand juries. In any trial upon statutes for strengthening the Pro- testant interest, a Papist juror may be peremptorily challenged. In the next reign Popish horses were attached, and allowed to be seized for the militia. Papists cannot be either high or petty constables. No Papists to vote at elections. Papists in towns to provide Pro- testant watchmen ; and not to vote at vestries. In the reign of George II. Papists were prohibited from being barristers. Barristers and solicitors mar- rying Papists, considered to be Papists, and subjected to all penalties as such. Persons robbed by privateers during a war with a Popish prince, to be indemnified by grand jury presentments, and the money to be levied on the Catholics only. No Papist to marry a Protestant ; any priest celebrating such a marriage to be hanged. During all this time there was not the slightest rebellion hi Ireland. In 1715 and 1745, while Scotland and the north ot England were up in arms, not a man stirred hi Ireland ; yet the spirit of persecution against the Catholics continued till the 18th of his present Majesty; and then gradually gave way to the increase of knowledge, the huifumity of our Sovereign, the abilities of Mr Grattan, the weakness of England struggling in Ame- rica, and the dread inspired by the French revolution. Such is the rapid outline of a code of laws which reflects indelible disgrace upon the English character, and explains but too clearly the cause of that hatred in which the English name has been so long held in Ireland. It would require centuries to efface such an impression ; and yet, when we find it fresh, and ope- rating at the end of a few years, we explain the fact by every cause which can degrade the Irish, and by none which can remind us of our own scandalous policy. With the folly and horror of such a code before our eyes, with the conviction of recent and domestic history, that mankind are not to be lashed and chained out of their faith — we are striving to teaze and worry them into a better theology. Heavy op- pression is removed ; fight insults and provocations are retained ; the scourge does not fall upon their shoulders, but it sounds in their ears. And this is the conduct we are pursuing, when it is still a great doubt whether this country alone may not be opposed to the united efforts of the whole of Europe. It is reaUj difficult to ascertain which is the most utterly destitute of common sense — the capricious and arbitrary stoji we have made in our concessions to the Catholics, or the precise period we have chosen for this grand effort of obstinate folly. In whatsoever manner the contest now in agitation on the Continent may terminate, its relation to the emancipation of the Catholics will be very striking. If the Spaniards succeed hi establishing their own lib- erties, and hi rescuing Europe from the tyranny under which it at present labours, it will still be contended. within the walls of our own Parliament, that the Cath- olics cannot fulfil the duties of social life. Venal pol- iticians will still argue that the time is not yet come. Sacred and lay sycophants will still lavish upon the Catholic faith their well-paid abuse, and England still passively submit to such a disgraceful spectacle of in- gratitude and injustice. If, on the contrary (as may probably be the case), the Spaniards fall before the numbers and military skill of the French, then are we left alone in the world, without another ray of hope and compelled to employ against internal disaffection METHODISM. that force which, exalted to its utmost energy, would in all probability prove but barely equal to the exter- nal danger by which we should be surrounded. Whence comes it that these things are universally admitted to be true, but looked upon in servile silence by a coun- try hitherto accustomed to make great efforts for its prosperity, safety, and independence ? METHODISM. (Edinburgh Review.) Strictures on two Critiques in the Edinburgh Review, on the Subject of Methodism and Missions ■ with Re- marks on the Influence of Reviews, in general, on Mor- als and Happiness. By John Styles. 8vo. Lon- don, 1809. In routing out a nest of consecrated cobblers, and in bringing to light such a perilous heap of trash as we were obliged to work through, in our articles upon the I We agree with him, that ridicule is"not exactly the Methodists to have been attacked; but Mr. John Styles should remember, that it is not the practice with destroyers of vermin to allow the little victims a veto upon the weapons used against them. If this were otherwise, we should have one set of vermim banishing small -tooth combs; another protesting against mouse -traps ; a third prohibiting the fingei and thumb ; a fourth exclaiming against the intolera- ble infamy of using soap and water. It is impossible however, to listen to such pleas. They must all be caught, killed, and cracked, in the manner, and by the instruments which are found most efficacious to their destruction ; and the more they cry out, the greater plainly is the skill used against them. We are con- vinced a little laughter will do them more harm than all the arguments in the world. Such men as the au- thor before us cannot understand when they are out- argued ; but he has given us a specimen, from his irri- tability, that he fully comprehends when he has be- come the object of universal contempt and derision. Methodists and Missionaries, we are generally con ceived to have rendered an useful service to the cause of rational religion. Every one, however, at all ac- quainted with the true character of Methodism, must have known the extent of the abuse and misrepresen- tation to which we exposed ourselves in such a ser- vice. All this obloquy, however, we were very will- ing to encounter, from our conviction of the necessity of exposing and correcting the growing evil of fanati- cism. In spite of all misrepresentation, we have ever been, and ever shall be, the sincere friends of sober and rational Christianity. We are quite ready, if any fair opportunity occur, to defend it, to the best of our ability, from the tiger-spring of infidelity ; and we are quite determined, if we can prevent such, an evil, that it shall not be eaten up by the nasty and numerous vermin of Methodism. For this purpose, we shall pro- ceed to make a few short remarks upon the sacred and silly gentleman before us, — not, certainly, be- cause we feel any sort of anxiety as to the effect of his strictures on our own credit or reputation, but be- cause his direct and articulate defence of the princi- ples and practices which we have condemned, affords as the fairest opportunity of exposing, still more clear- ly, both the extravagance and the danger of these popular sectaries. These very impudent people have one ruling canon, which pervades every thing they say and do. Who- is unfriendly to Methodism, is an infidel and an atheist. This reasonable and amiable maxim, repeated, in every form of dulness, and varied in every attitude of malignity, is the sum and substance of Mr. Style's pamphlet. Whoever wishes to rescue religion from the hands of didactic artisans, — whoever prefers a re- spectable clergyman for his teacher to a delirious me- chanic, — whoever wishes to keep the intervals be teen churches and lunatic asylumns as wide as possi- ble, — all such men, in the estimation of Mr. Styles are nothing better than open or concealed enemies of • Christianity. His catechism is very simple. In what hoy do you navigate ? By what shoemaker or carpen ter are you instructed? What miracles have you to relate ? Do you think it sinful to reduce Providence to an alternative, &c. &c. &c. Now, if we were to con- tent ourselves with using to Mr. Styles, while he is dealing about his imputations of infidelity, the un- courtly language which is sometimes applied to those who are little curious about truth or falsehood, what Methodist would think the worse of him for such an attack ? Who is there among them that would not glory to he for the taberqacle ? who that would not believe he was pleasing his Maker, by sacrificing truth, justice, and common sense, to the interests of his own little chapel, and his own deranged instruc- tor ? Something more than contradiction or confuta- tion, therefore, is necessary to discredit those charita- ble dogmatists, and to diminish their pernicious influ- ence ; — and the first accusation against us is, that we have endeavoured to add ridicule to reasoning. We are a good deal amused, indeed, with the ex. weapon to be used in matters of religion ; but the use of it is excusable, when there is no other which can make fools tremble. Besides, he should remember the particular sort of ridicule we have used, which is nothing more than accurate quotation from the Meth- odists themselves. It is true, that this is the most se- vere and cutting ridicule to which we could have had recourse ; but, whose fault is that? Nothing can be more disingenuous than the attacks Mr. Styles has made upon us for our use of Scripture language. Light and grace are certainly terms of Scripture. It is not to the words themselves that any ridicule can ever attach. It is from the preposterous application of those words, in the mouths of the most arrogant and ignorant of human beings ; — it is from their use in the most trivial, low, and familiar scenes of life ; — it is from the illiterate and ungrammatical prelacy of Mr. John Styles, that any tinge of ridicule ever is or ever can be imparted to the sacred language of Scripture. We admit also, with this gentleman, that it would certainly evince the most vulgar and contracted heart, to ridicule any religious opinions, methodistical or otherwise, because thej%vere the opinions of the poor, and were conveyed in the language of the poor. But are we to respect the poor, when they wish to step out of their province, and become the teachers of the land ? — when men, whose proper ' talk is of bullocks, pretend to have wisdom and understanding,' is it not lawful to tell them they have none ? An ironmonger is a very respectable man, so long as he is merely an ironmonger, — an admirable man if he is a religious ironmonger ; but a great blockhead if he sets up for a bishop or a dean, and lectures upon theology. It is not the poor we have attacked, — but the writing poor, the publishing poor, — the limited arrogance which mistakes its own trumpery sect for the world: nor have we attacked them for want of talent, but for want of modesty, want of sense, and want of true ra- tional religion, — for every fault which Mr. John Styles defends and exemplifies. It is scarcely possible to reduce the drunken decla- mations of Methodism to a point, to grasp the wrig- gling lubricity of these cunning animals, and to fix them in one position. We have said, in our review of the Methodists, that it is extremely wrong to suppose that Providence interferes with special and extraordi- nary judgments on every trifling occasion of life : that to represent an innkeeper killed for preventing a Meth- odist meeting, or loud claps of thunder rattling along the heavens, merely to hint to Mr. Scott that he was not to preach at a particular tabernacle in Oxford- road, appeared to us to be blasphemous and mischie- vous nonsense. With great events, which change the destiny of mankind, we might suppose such interfe- rence, the discovery of which, upon every trifling oc- casion, we considered to be pregnant with very mis- chievous consequences. To all which Mr. Styles replies, that, with Providence, nothing is great, or nothing little, — nothing difiicultj or nothing easy ; that treme disrelish which Mr. John Styles exhibits to the a worm and a whale are equal in the estimation of a humour and pleasantry with which he admits the ' SuDreme Being. But did any human being but a Metb/ WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. odist, and a third or fourth rate Methodist, ever make such a reply to such an argument ? We are not talk- ing about what is great or important to Providence, but to us. The creation of a worm or a whale, a New- ton or a Styles, are tasks equally easy to Omnipo- tence. But are they, in their results, equally import- ant to us ? The lightning may as easily strike the head of the French emperor, as of an innocent cotta- ger ; but we are surely neither impious nor obscure, when we say, that one would be an important interfe- rence of Providence, and the other comparatively not bo. But it is a loss of time to reply to such trash ; it presents no stimulus of difficulty to us, nor would it offer any of novelty to our readers. To our attack upon the melancholy tendency of Me- thodism, Mr. Styles replies, ' that a man must have studied in the schools of Hume, Voltaire, and Kotzebue, who can plead in behalf of the theatre ; that, at fash- ionable ball-rooms and assemblies, seduction is drawn out to a system ; that dancing excites the fever of the passions, and raises a delirium too often fatal to inno- cence and peace ; and that for the poor, instead of the common rough amusements to which they are now addicted, there remain the simple beauties of nature, the gay colours, and the scented perfumes of the earth.' These are the blessings which the common people have to expect from their Methodistical in- structors. They are pilfered of all their money, shut out from all their dances and country wakes, and are then sent pennyless into the fields, to gaze on the clouds, and to smell dandelions ! Against the orthodox clergy of all descriptions, our sour devotee proclaims, as was to have been expected, the most implacable war, declaring that, in one century, they would have obliterated all the remaining practical religion in the church, had it not been for this new sect, everywhere spoken against.'' Undoubtedly, the dis- tinction of mankind into godly and ungodly — if by godly is really meant those who apply religion to the extinction of bad passions — would be highly de- sirable. But when, by that word, is only intended a sect more desirous of possessing the appellation than of deserving it — when, under that term, are compre- hended thousands of canting hypocrites and raving enthusiasts — men despicable from their ignorance, and formidable from their madness — the distinction may hereafter prove to be truly terrific ; and a dy- nasty of fools may again sweep away both church and state in one hideous ruin. There maybe, at present, some very respectable men at the head of these ma- niacs, who would insanify them with some degree of prudence, and keep them only half mad, if they could. But this won't do ; Bedlam will break loose, and over- power its keepers. If the preacher sees visions, and has visitations, the clerk will come next, and then the congregation ; every man will be his own prophet, and dream dreams for himself : the competition in extrava- gance will be hot and lively, and the whole island a re- ceptacle for incurables. There is, at this moment, a man in London who prays for what garments he wants, and finds them next morning in his room, tight and fit- ting. This man, as might be expected, gains between two and three thousand a year from the common peo- ple, by preaching. Anna, the prophetess, encamps in the woods of America, with thirteen or fourteen thou- sand followers, and has visits every night from the prophet Elijah. Joanna Southcote raises the dead, &c &c. Mr. Styles will call us atheists, and disciples of the French school, for what we are about to say ; but it is our decided opinion, that there is some fraud* in the prophetic visit ; and it is but too probable, that the clothes are merely human, and the man measured for them in the common way. When such blasphem- ous deceptions are practised upon mankind, how can remonstrance be misplaced, or exposure mischievous ? If the choice rested with us, we should say— give us back our wolves again, restore us our Danish invaders, curse us with any evil but the evil of a canting, deluded, and Methodistical populace. Wherever Methodism extends its banetul influence, the character of the English people is constantly changed by it. Boldness and rough honesty are broken down into meanness prevarication, and fraud. While Mr. Styles is so severe upon the indolence o* the Church, he should recollect that his Methodists are the ex-party; that it is not in human nature, that any persons who quietly possess power, can be as ac ; tive as those who are pursuing it. The fair way to state the merit of the two parties is, to estimate what the exertions of the lachrymal and suspirous clergy would be, if they stepped into the endowments of their competitors. The moment they ceased to be {>aid by the groan, the instant that Easter offerings no onger depended upon jumping and convulsions. Mr Styles may assure himself, that the character of his darling preachers would be totally changed ; their bodies would become quiet, and their minds reason- able. It is not true, as this bad writer is perpetually saying, that the world hates pietj 7 . That modest and unob- trusive piety which fills the heart with all human cha- rities, and makes a man gentle to others, and severe to himself, is an object of universal love and veneration. But mankind hate the lust of power when it is veiled under the garb of piety ; they hate canting and hypoc- risy ; they hate advertisers and quacks and piety ; they do not choose to be insulted ; they love to tear folly and imprudence from that altar which should only be a sanctuary for the wretched and the good. Having concluded his defence of Methodism, this fa- natical writer opens upon us his Missionary battery, firing away with the most incessant fury, and calling names, all the time, as loud as lungs accustomed to the eloquence of the tub usually vociferate. In speak- ing of the cruelties which their religion entails upon the Hindoos, Mr. Styles is peculiarly severe upon us for not being more shocked at their piercing their limbs with kimes. This is rather an unfair mode of alarming his readers with the idea of some unknown instrument. He represents himself as having paid considerable attention to the manners and customs of the Hindoos ; and, therefore, the peculiar stress he lays upon this instrument is naturally calculated to produce, in the minds of the humane, a great degree of mysterious terror. A drawing of the kime was imperiously called for ; and the want of it is a subtle evasion, for which Mr. Styles is fairly accountable. As he has been si- lent on this subject, it is for us to explain the plan and nature of this terrible and unknown piece of mechan- ism. A kime, then, is neither more nor less than a false print in the Edingburgh Review for a knife ; and from this blunder of the printer has Mr. Styles manu- factured this Daedalean instrument of torture called a kime ! We were at first nearly persuaded by his ar- guments against kimes ; we grew frightened ; we stated to ourselves the horror of not sending mission- aries to a nation that used kimes ; we were struck with the nice and accurate information of the Taber- nacle upon this important subject ; but we looked into the errata, and found Mr. Styles to be always Mr. Styles, always cut off from every hope of mercy, and remaining for ever himself. Mr. Styles is right in saying we have abolished • many practices of the Hindoos since the establishment of our empire ; but then we have always consulted the Brahmins, whether or not such practices were conform- able to their religion ; and it is upon the authority of their condemnation that we have proceeded to aboli- tion. To the whole of Mr. Styles's observations upon the introduction of Christianity into India, we have one short answer : — it is not Christianity which is intro- duced there, but the debased mummery and nonsense of Methodists, which has little more to do with the Christian religion than it has to do with the religion of China. We would as soon consent that Brodum and Solomon should carry the medical art of Europe into India, as that Mr. Styles and his Anabaptists should give to the Eastern World their notions of our religion. We send men of the highest character for the adminis- tration of justice and the regulation of trade ; nay, we take great pains to impress upon the minds of the na» METHODISM. 47 lives the highest ideas of our arts and manufactures, by laying before them the finest specimens of our skill and ingenuity. Why, then, are common sense and de- cency to be forgotten in religion alone ? and so foolish a set of men allowed to engage themselves in this oc- cupation, that the natives almost instinctively duck and pelt them ? But the missionaries, we are told, have mastered the languages of the East. They may also, for aught we know, in the same time, have learnt perspective, astronomy, or anything else. What is all this to us ? Our charge is, that they want sense, con- duct, and sound religion ; and that, if they are not watched, the throat of every European in India will be cut : — the answer to which is, that their progress in languages is truly astonishing ! If they expose us to eminent peril, what matters it if they have every vir- tue under heaven ? We are not writing dissertations upon the intellect of Brother Carey, but stating his character so far as it concerns us, and caring for it no further. But these pious gentlemen care nothing about the loss of the country. The plan, it seems, is this :— We are to educate India in Christianity, as a parent does his child ; and, when it is perfect in its catechism, then to pack up, quit it entirely, and leave it to its own management. This is the evangelical project for se- parating a colony from the parent country. They see nothing of the bloodshed, massacres, and devastations, nor of the speeches in parliament, squandered millions, fruitless expeditions, jobs and pensions, with which the loss of our Indian possessions would necessarily be ac- companied ; nor will they see that these consequences could arise from the attempt, and not from the comple- tion, of their scheme of conversion. We should be swept from the peninsula by Pagan zealots ; and should lose, among other things, all chance of really converting them. What is the use, too, of telling us what these men endure ? Suffering is not a merit, but only useful suf- fering. Prove to us that they are fit men, doing a fit thing, and we are ready to praise the missionaries ; but it gives no pleasure to hear that a man has walked a thousand miles with peas in his shoes, unless we mow why, and wherefore, and to what good purpose ae has done it. But these men, it is urged, foolish and extravagant as they are, may be very useful precursors of the established clergy. This is much as if a regular phy- sician should send a quack doctor before him, and say, do you go and look after this disease for a day or two, and ply the patient well with your nostrums, and then I will step in and complete the cure ;• a more notable cure Ave have seldom heard of. Its patrons forget that these self-ordained ministers, with Mr. John Styles at their head, abominate the established clergy ten thousand times more than they do Pagans, who cut themselves with cruel kimes. The efforts of these precursors would be directed with infinitely more zeal to make the Hindoos disbelieve in Bishops, than to make them believe in Christ. The darling passion in the soul of every missionary is, not to teach the great leading truths of the Christian faith, but to enforce the little paltry modification and distinction which he first taught from his own tub. And then what a way of teaching Christianity is this ! There are five sects, if not six, now employed as missionaries, every one instructing the Hindoos in their own parti- cular method of interpreting the Scriptures ; and when these have completely succeeded, the Church of Eng- land is to step in, and convert them all over again to its own doctrines. There is, indeed, a very fine varnish of probability over this ingenious and plausible scheme. Mt. John Styles, however, would much rather see a kime in the flesh of an Hindoo than the hand of a Bishop on his head. The missionaries complain of intolerance. A weasel might as well complain of intolerance when it is throt- tled for sucking eggs. Toleration for their own opinions — toleration for their domestic worship, for their private groans and convulsions, they possess in the fullest extent ; but who ever heard of tolerance for intolerance? Who ever before heard men cry out they were persecuted, because they might not hi suit the religion; shock the feelings, irritate the passions of their fellow creatures, and throw a whole colony into bloodshed and confusion ? We did not say that a man was not an object of pity who tormented himself from a sense of duty, but that he was not so great an object of pity as one equally tormented by the tyranny of another, and without any sense of duty to support him. Let Mr. Styles first inflict forty lashes upon himself, then let him allow an Edinburgh Reviever to give him forty more — he will find no comparison between the two flagellations. These men talk of the loss of our possessions in India as if it made the argument against them only more or less strong; whereas, in our estimation, it makes the argument against them conclusive, and shut* up the case. Two men possess a cow, and they quarrel violently how they shall manage this cow. They will surely both of them (if they have a particle of common sese) agree, that there is an absolute ne- cessity for preventing the cow from running away. It is not only the loss of India that is in question — but how will it be lost ? By the massacre of ten or twenty thousand English, by the blood of our sons and bro- thers, who have been toiling so many years to return to their native country. But what is all this to a fero- cious Methodist? What care brothers Barrel and Ringletub for us and our colonies ? If it it were possible to invent a method by which a few men sent from a distant country could hold such masses of people as Hindoos in subjection, that method would be the institution of castes. There is no insti- tution which can so effectually curb the ambition of genius, reconcile the individual more completely to his station, and reduce the varieties of human character to such a state of insipid and monotonous tameness ; and yet the religion which destroys castes is said to render our empire in India more certain ! It may be our duty to make the Hindoos Christians — that is another argument : but, that we shall by so doing strengthen our empire, we utterly deny. What signifies identity of religion to a question of this kind ? Diversity of bodily colour and of language would soon overpower this consideration. Make the Hindoos enterprising, active, and reasonable as yourselves — destroy the eternal track in which they have moved for ages — and, in a moment, they would sweep you off the face of the earth. Let us ask, too, if the Bible is universally dif- fused in Hindostan, what must be the astonishment of the natives to find that we are forbidden to rob, murder, and steal ; we who, in fifty years have extended our empire from a few acres about Madras over the whole peninsula, and sixty millions of people, and ex- emplified in our public conduct every crime of which human nature is capable. What matchless impudence to follow up such practice with such precepts ! If we have common prudence, let us keep the gospel at home, and tell them that Machiavel is our prophet and the god of the Manicheans our god. There is nothing which digusts us more than the familiarity these impious coxcombs affect with the ways and designs of Providence. Every man, now-a- days, is an Amos or a Malachi. One rushes out of his chambers, and tells us we are beaten by the French, because we do not abolish the slave trade. Another assures us that we have no chance of victory till India is evangelized. The new Christians are now come to speak of the ways of their Creator with as much confi- dence as they would of the plan of an earthly ruler. We remember when the ways of God to man were gazed upon with trembling humility— -when they were called inscrutable — when piety looked to another scene of existence for the true explanation of this ambiguous and distressing world. We were taught in our child- hood that this was true religion ; but it turns out now to be nothing but atheism and infidelity. If any thing could surprise us from the pen of a Methodist, we should be truly surprised at the very irreligious and presumptous answer which Mr. Styles makes to some of our arguments. Our title to one of the anecdotes from the Methodist Magazine is as follows : l A sinner punished — a Bee the instrument;' to which Mr. Styles replies, that we might as well ridicule the Scriptures, by relating their contents in the same ludicrous man- ner An inict ferencc with respect to a travelling Jew • 4& WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. blindness the consequence. Acts, the ninth chapter, and first nine verses. The account of Paul's conversion, 8,-c. fyc. 4-c, page 38. But does Mr. Styles forget, that the .one is a shameless falsehood, introduced to sell a twopenny book, and the other a miracle recorded by inspired writers ! In the same manner, when we ex- press our surprise that sixty millions of Hindoos should be converted by four men and sixteen guineas, he asks, what would have become of Christianity if the twelve Apostles had argued in the same way? It is impos- sible to make this infatuated" gentleman understand that the lies of the Evangelical Magazine are not the miracles of Scripture ; and that the Baptist Mission- aries are not the Apostles. He seriously expects that we should*speak of Brother Carey as we would speak of St. Paul ; and treat with an equal respect the miracles of the Magazine and the Gospel. Mr. Styles knows very well that we have never said because a nation has present happiness, that it can , therefore dispense with immortal happiness ; but we liave said that, where of two nations both cannot be made Christians, it is more the duty of a missionary to convert the one, which is exposed to every evil of bar- barism, than the other possessing every blessing of civilization. Our argument is merely comparative: Mr. Styles must have known it to be so : but who does not love the Tabernacle better than truth ? When the tenacity of the Hindoos on the subject of their religion is adduced as a reason against the success of the mis- sions, the friends of this understanding are always fond of reminding us how patiently the Hindoos submitted to the religious persecutions and butchery of Tippoo. The inference from such citations is truly alarming. It is the imperious duty of Government to watch some of these men most narrowly. There is nothing of which they are not capable. And what, after all, did Tippoo effect in the way of conversion ? How many Mahomedans did he make ? There was all the. car- nage of Medea's Kettle, andnone of the transformation. He deprived multitudes of Hindoos of their caste, indeed ; and cut them off from all the benefits of their religion. That he did, and we may do, by violence : but, did he make Mahomedans ? — or shall we make Christians? This, however, it seems, is a matter of pleasantry. To make a poor Hindoo hateful to himself and his kindred, and to fix a curse upon him to the end of his days ! — we have no doubt but that this is very entertaining ; and particularly to the friends of tolera- tion. But our ideas of comedy have been formed in another school. We are dull enough to think, too, that it is more innocent to exile pigs than to offend con- science, and destroy human happiness. The scheme of baptizing with beef broth is about as brutal and preposterous as the assertion that you may vilify the gods and priests of the Hindoos with safety, provided you do not meddle with their turbans and toupees, (which are cherished solely on a principle of religion) ', is silly and contemptible. After all, if the Mahome- dan did persecute the Hindoos with impunity, is that any precedent of safety to a government, that offends every feeling both of Mahomedan and Hindoo at the same time? You have a tiger and a buffalo in the same enclosure ; and the tiger drives the buffalo before him ; is it therefore prudent in you to do that which will irritate them both, and bring their united strength upon you ? In answer to the low malignity of this author, we have only to reply, that we are, as we always have been, sincere friends to the conversion of the Hindoos. We admit the Hindoo religion to be full of follies, and full of enormities ; — we think conversion a great duty — and could think it, if it could be effected, a great blessing ; but our opinion of the missionaries and of their employers is such, that we most firmly believe, in less than twenty years, for the conversion of a few degraded wretches, who would he neither Methodists nor Hindoos, they would infallibly pro- duce the massacre of every European in India ;* the * Every opponent says of Major Scott's book, ' What a dangerous book ! the arrival of it at Calcutta may throw .no whole Indian empire into confusion ; — and yet these are he people whose religious prejudices may be insulted with impunity. loss of our settlements, and, consequently, of the chance of that slow, solid, and temperate introduction of Christianity, which the superiority of the European character may ultimately effect in the Eastern world. The Board of Control (all Atheists, and dis- ciples of Voltaire, of course) are so entirely of our way of thinking, that the most peremptory orders have been issued to send all the missionaries home upon the slightest appearance of disturbance. Those who have sons and brothers in India may now sleep in peace. Upon the transmission of this order, Mr, Styles is said to have destroyed himself with a kime HANNAH MORE. (Edinburgh Review, 1S09.) Calebs in Search of a Wife ; comprehending Observations on Domestic Habits and Manners, Religion and Morals. 2 Vols. London, 1809. This book is written, or supposed to be written, (for we would speak timidly of the mysteries of supe- rior beings,) by the celebrated Mrs. Hannah More ! We shall probably give great offence by such indis- cretion ; but still we must be excused for treating ' it •as a book merely human, — an uninspired production, — the result of mortality left to itself, and depending on its own limited resources. In taking up the sub- ject in this point of view, we solemnly disclaim the slightest intention of indulging in any indecorous levity, or of wounding the religious feelings of a large class of very respectable persons. It is the only me- thod in, which we can make this work a proper object of criticism. We have the strongest possible doubts of the attributes usually ascribed to this authoress; and we think it more simple and manly to say so at once, than to admit nominally superlunary claims, which, in the progress of our remarks, we should vir- tually deny. CcElebs wants a wife ; and, after the death of hie father, quits his estate in Northumberland to see the world, and to seek for one of its best productions, a woman, who may add materially to the happiness of his future life. His first journey is to London, where, in the midst of the gay society of the metropolis, ol course, he does not find a wife. The exaltation ; therefore, of what the authoress deems to be the reli gious, and the depreciation of what she considers to be the worldly character, and the influence of both upon matrimonial happiness, form the subject of this novel. — rather, of this dramatic sermon. The machinery upon which the discourse is suspen- ded is of the slightest and most inartificial texture, bearing every mark of haste, and possessing not the slightest claim to merit. Events there are none ; and scarcely a character of any interest. The book is in- tended to convey religious advice ; and no more labour appears to have been bestowed upon the story than was merely sufficient to throw it out of the dry, didac- tic form. Lucilla is totally uninteresting ; so is Mr. Stanley ; Dr. Barlow is still worse ; and Caelebs a mere clod or dolt. Sir John and Lady Belfleld are rather more interesting — and for a very obvious reason : they have some faults ; — they put us in mind of men and women ; — they seem to belong to one common nature with ourselves. As we readj we seem to think we might act as such people act, and therefore we attend ; whereas imitation is hopeless in the more perfect characters which Mrs. More has set before us ; and therefore they inspire us with very little interest. There are books, however, of all kinds ; and those may not be unwisely planned which set before us very pure models. They are less probable, and therefore less amusing, than ordinary stories ; but they are more amusing than plain, unfabled precept. Sir Cbarles Grandison is less agreeable than Tom Jones ; but it is more agreeable than Sherlock and Tillotson ; and teaches religion and morality to many who would not seek it in the productions of those professional writers. But, making every allowance for the difficulty of the task which Mrs. More has prescribed to herself, the book abounds with marks of negligence and want of skill ; with representations of life and manners which are either false or trite. HANNAH MORE. 42 Temples to friendship and virtue must be totally- laid aside, for many years to come, in novels. Mr. Lane, of the Minerva Press, has given them up long since ; and we are quite surprised to find such a writer as Mrs. More busied in moral brick and mortar. Such an idea, at first, was merely juvenile ; the second time a little nauseous ; but the ten thousandth time it is quite intolerable. Crelebs, upon his first arrival in London, dines out, — meets with a bad dinner, — suppo- ses the cause of that bad dinner to be the erudition of the ladies of the house, — talks to them upon learned subjects, and finds them as dull and ignorant as if they hud piqued themselves upon all the mysteries of house- wifery. We humbly submit to Mrs. More, that this is not humorous, but strained and unnatural. Philippics against frugivorous children after dinner are too com- mon. Lady Melbury has been introduced into every novel for these four years last past. Peace to her ashes ! The characters in this novel which evince the great- est skill are unquestionably those of Mrs. Ranby and her daughters. There are some scenes in this part of the book extremely well painied, and which evince that Mrs. More could amuse, in no common degree, if amusement was her object. " At tea I found the young ladies took no more interes* in the conversation than they had done at dinner, but sat whispering and laughing, and netting white silk gloves, till they were summoned to the harpsichord. Despairing of getting on with them in company, I proposed a walk in the garden. I now found them as willing to talk as destitute of any thing to say. Their conversation was vapid and frivolous. They laid great stress on small things. They Eeemed to have no shades in their understanding, but used the strongest terms for the commonest occasions 5 and ad- miration was excited by things hardly worthy to command attention. They were extremely glad and extremely sorry on subjects not calculated to excite aifections of any kind. They were animated about trifles, and indifferent on things of importance. They were, I must confess, frank and good- natured ; but it was evident that, as they were too open to nave any thing to conceal, so they were too uninformed to nave any thing to produce ; and I was resolved not to risk my happiness with a woman who could not contribute her full share towards spending a wet winter cheerfully in the country.'— (I. 54, 55.) This trait of character appears to us to be very good. The following passage is still better. ■« In the evening, Mrs. Ranby was lamenting in general, in rather customary terms, her own exceeding sinfulness. Mr. Ranby said, " You accuse yourself rather too heavily, my dear; you have sins to be sure." "And pray what / sins have I, Mr. Ranby ?" said she, turning upon him with so much quickness that the poor man started. "Nay," said he, meekly, " I did not mean to offend you ; so far from it, that, hearing you condemn yourself grievously, I intended to comfort you, and to say that, except a few faults ." " And pray what faults ?" interrupted she, continuing to speak, however, lest he should catch an in- terval to tell them. " I defy you, Mr. Ranby, to produce one." "My dear," replied he, "as you charged yourself with all, I thought it would be letting you off cheaply, by naming only two or three, such as ." Here, fearing matters would go too far, I interposed ; and, softening things as much I could for the lady, said, " I conceived that Mr. Ranby meant, that though she partook of the general corruption " Here Ranby, interrupting me with more spirit than I thought he possessed, said, " General corruption, sir, must be the source of particular corruption. I did not mean that my wife was worse than other women." — "Worse, Mr. Ranby, worse?" cried she, Ranby, for the first time in his life, not minding her, went on, " As she is always insisting that the whole species is corrupt, she cannot help allowing that she he*rself has not quite escaped the infection. Now, to be a sinner in the gross, and a saint . in the detail — that is, to have all sins, and no faults — is a thing I do not quite comprehend." ' After he had left the room, which he did as the shortest way of allaying the storm, she, apologizing for him, said, " he was a well-meaning man, and acted up to the little light he had ;" but added, " that he was unacquainted with religious feelings, and knew little of the nature of conver- • sion." « Mrs. Ranby, I found, seems to consider Christianity as a kind of free-masonry ; and therefore thinks it superfluous to speak on serious subjects to any but the initiated. If they do not return the sign, she gives them up as blind and dead. She thinks she can only make herself intelligible to those to whom certain peculiar phrases are familiar : and though her friends may be correct, devout, and both doc- trinally and practically pious ; yet, if they cannot catch a certain mystic meaning — if there is not a sympathy of in- telligence between her and them — if they do not fully con ceive of impressions, and cannot respond to mysterious communications, she holds them unworthy of intercourse with her. She does not so much insist on high moral ex- cellence as the criterion of their worth, as on their own ac- count of their internal feelings.'— (I. 60—63.) The great object kept, in view, throughout the whole of this introduction, is the enforcement of reli- gious principle, and the condemnation of a life lavished in dissipation and fashionable amusement. In the pur- suit of this object, it appears to us that Mrs. More is much too severe upon the ordinary amusements of mankind, many of which she does not object to in this or that degree, but altogether. Caelebs and Lucilla, her optimus and optima, never dance, and never go to the play. They not only stay away from the come- dies of Congreve and Farquhar, for which they may easily enough be forgiven — but they never go to see Mrs. Siddons in the Gamester, or in Jane Shore. The finest exhibition of talent, and the most beautiful mo- ral lessons, are interdicted at the theatre. There is something in the word Playhouse which seems so closely connected, in the minds of these people, with sin and Satan, — that it stands in their vocabulary for every species of abomination. And yet why? Where is every feeling more roused in favour of virtue than at a good play? Where is goodness so feelingly, so enthusiastically learnt ? What so solemn as to see the excellent passions of the human heart called forth by a great actor — animated by a great poet ? To hear Siddons repeat what Shakspeare wrote ! To behold the child and his mother — the noble and the poor arti- san — the monarch and his subjects — all ages and all ranks convulsed in one common passion — wrung with one common anguish, and, with loud sobs and cries, doing involuntary homage to the God that made their hearts ! What wretched infatuation to interdict such amusements as these ! What a blessing that man- kind can be allured from sensual gratification, and find relaxation and pleasure in such pursuits ! But the excellent Mr. Stanley is uniformly paltry and narrow, — always trembling at the idea of being entertained, and thinking no Christian safe who is not dull. As to the spectacles of impropriety which are sometimes witnessed in parts of the theatre, such reasons apply, in a much stronger degree, to not driving along the Strand, or any of the great public streets of London, after dark ; and, if the virtue of well-educated young persons is made of such very frail materials, their best resource is a nunnery at once. It is a very bad rule, however, never to quit the house for fear of catching cold. Mrs. More practically extends the same doctrine to cards and assemblies. No cards — because cards are employed in gaming ; no assemblies — because many dissipated persons pass their lives in assemblies. Carry this but a little further, and we must say, no wine — because of drunkenness ; no meat — because of gluttony ; no use, that- there may be no abuse ! The fact is, that Mr. Stanley wants, not only to be religi- ous, but to be at the head of the religious. These little abstinences are the cockades by which the party are known, — the rallying points for the evangelical faction. So natural is the love of power, that it some- times becomes the influencing motive with the sincere advocates of that blessed religion whose very charac- teristic excellence is the humility which it inculcates. We observe that Mrs. More, in one part of her work, falls into the common error about dress. She first blames ladies for exposing their persons in the present style of dress, and then says, if they knew their own interest, — if they were aware how much more alluring they were to men when their charms are less displayed, they would make the desired al- teration from motives merely selfish. « Oh ! if women in general knew what was their real in- terest, if they could guess with what a charm even the ap- pearance of modesty invests its posessor, they would dress decorously from mere self-love, if not from principle. The designing would assume modesty as an artifice; the co- 50 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. quette would adopt it as an allurement ; the pure as her ap- propriate attraction ; and the voluptuous as the most infal- lible art of seduction.'— (I. 189.) If there is any truth in this passage, nudity becomes a virtue ; and no decent woman, for the future, can be seen in garments. We have a few more of Mrs. More's opinions to notice. — It is not fair to attack the religion of the times, because, in large and indiscriminate parties, religion does not become the subject of conversation. Conversation must and ought to grow out of materials on which men can agree, not upon subjects which try the passions. But this good lady wants to see men chatting together upon the Pelagian heresy — to hear, in the afternoon, the theological rumours of the day— and to glean polemical tittle-tattle at a tea-table rout. All the disciples of this school uniformly fall into the same mistake. They are perpetually calling upon their votaries for religious thoughts and religious con- versation in every thing ; inviting them to ride, walk, row, wrestle, and dine out religiously ; — forgetting that the being to whom this impossible purity is re- commended, is a being compelled to scramble for his existence and support for ten hours out of the sixteen he is awake ;— forgetting that he must dig, beg, read, think, move, pay, receive, praise, scold, command, and obey ; — forgetting, also, that if men conversed as often upon religious subjects as they do upon the ordinary occurrences of the world, they would con- verse upon them with the same familiarity and want of respect, — that religion would then produce feelings not more solemn or exalted than any other topics which constitute at present the common furniture of human understandings. We are glad to find in this work some strong com- pliments to the efficacy of works, — some distinct ad- missions that it is necessary to be honest and just, be- fore we can be considered as religious. Such sort of concessions are very gratifying to us ; but how will they be received by the children of the Tabernacle ? It is quite clear, indeed, throughout the whole of the work, that an apologetical explanation of certain re- ligious opinions is intended ; and there is a consider- able abatement of that tone of insolence with which the improved Christians are apt to treat the bungling specimens of piety to be met with in the more ancient churches. So much for the extravagances of this lad)'". — With equal sincerity, and with greater pleasure, we bear testimony to her talents, her good sense, and her real piety. There occur every now and then, in her pro- ductions, very original, and very profound observa- tions. Her advice is very often characterized by the most amiable good sense, and conveyed hi the most brilliant and inviting style. If, instead of belonging to a trumpery faction, she had only watched over those great points of religion in which the hearts of every sect of Christians are interested, she would have been one of the most useful and valuable writers of her day. As it is, every man would wish his wife and his children to read Calebs ; — watching himself its effects ; — separating the piety from the puerility ; — and showing that it is very possible to be a good Christian, without degrading the human understandr ing to the trash and folly of Methodism. PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION. (Edinburgh Re- view, 1809.) Essays on Professional Education. By R. L. Edge- worth, Esq. F. R. S. &c. London. 1S09. There are two questions to be asked respecting every new publication. Is it worth borrowing ? and we would advise our readers to weigh diligently the importance of these interrogations, before they take any decided step as to this work of Mr. Edgeworth ; the more especially as the name carries with it con- siderable authority, and seems, in the estimation of the unwary, almost to include the idea of purchase. For our own part, we would rather decline giving a direct answer to these Questions ; and shall content ourselves for the present with making a few such slight observations as may enable the sagacious to conjec- ture what our direct answer would be were we com- pelled to be more explicit. One great and signal praise we think to be the emi- nent due of Mr. Edgeworth : in a canting age he doet not cant ; — at a period when hyprocrisy and fanatic- ism will ahnost certainly insure the success of any publication, he has constantly disdained to have re- course to any such arts ; — without evar having been accused of disloyalty or irreligion, he is not always harping upon Church and King, in order to catch at a little populaity, and sell his books ; — he is manly, in- dependent, liberal — and maintains enlightened opi- nions with discretion and honesty. There is also in this work of Mr. Edgeworth an agreeable diffusion of anecdote and example, such as a man acquires who reads with a view to talking or writing. With these merits, we cannot say that Mr. Edgeworth is either very new, very profound, or very apt to be right in his opinion. He is active, enterprising, and unpre- judiced ; but we have not been very much instructed by what he has written, or always satisfied that he has got to the bottom of his subject. On one subject, however, we cordially agree with this gentleman ; and return him our thanks for the courage with which he has combated the excessive abuse of classical learning in England. It is a sub- ject upon which we have long wished for an oppor- tunity of saying something ; and one which we con sider to be of the very highest importance. ' The principal defect,' says Mr. Edgeworth, ' in the pres- ent system of our great schools is, that they devote too large a portion of time to Latin and Greek. It is true, that the attainment of classical literature is highly desirable ; but it should not, or rather it need not, he the exclusive object of boys during eight or nine years. 'Much less time, judiciously managed, would give them an acquaintance with the classics sufficient for all useful purposes, and would make them as good scholars as gen- tlemen or professional men need to be. It is not requsite that every man should make Latin or Greek verses ; there- fore, a knowledge of prosody beyond the structure of hex- ameter and pentameter verses, is as worthless an acquisi- tion as any which folly or fashion has introduced amongst the higher classes of mankind. It must indeed be acknowl edged" that there are some rare exceptions ; but even party prejudice would allow, that the persons alluded to must have risen to eminence though they had never written sap- phics or iambics. Though preceptors, parents, and the pub- lic in general, may be convinced of the absurdity of mak- ing boys spend so much of life in learning what can be of no use to them ; such are the difficulties of making any change in the ancient rules of great establishments, that masters themselves, however reasonable, dare not, and can- not make sudden alterations. < The only remedies that can be suggested might be, per- haps, to take those boys, who are not intended for profes sions in which deep scholarship is necessary, away from school before they reach the highest classes, where prosody and Greek and Latin verses are" required. < In the college of Dublin, where an admirable course of instruction has been long established, where this course is superintended by men of acknowledged learning and abili- ties, and pursued by students of uncommon industry, such is the force of example, and such the fear of appearing in- ferior in trifles to English universities, that much pains have been lately taken "to introduce the practice of writing Greek and Latin verses, and much solicitude has been shown about the prosody of the learned languages, without any attention being paid to the prosody of our own. < Boarding-houses for the scholars at Eton and Westmin- ster, which are at present mere lodging houses, might be kept by private tutors, who might, during the hours when the boys were not in the public classes, assist them in ac- quiring general literature, or such knowledge as might be advantageous for their respective professions. ' New schools, that are not restricted to any established routine, should give a fair trial to experiments in education which afford a rational prospect of success. If nothing can be altered in the old schools, leave them as they are. De- stroy nothing— injure none — but let the public try whether they cannot have something better. If the experiment do not succeed, the public will be convinced that they ought to acquiesce in the established methods of instruction, and parents will send their children to the ancient seminaries with increased confidence.'— (p. 47 — 49.) Wi are well aware that nothing very new can re- main to be said uuon a topic so often debated. The TOO MUCH LATIN AND GREEK. complaints we have to make are at least as old as the [ they inure children to intellectual difficulties, and time of Locke and Dr. Samuel Clarke ; and the evil which is the subject of these complaints has certainly rather increased than diminished since the period of those two great men. An hundred years, to be sure, is a very little time for the duration of a national error ; and it is so far from being reasonable to look for its decay at so short a date, that it can hardly be expect- ed, within such limits, to have displayed the full bloom of its imbecility. There are several feelings to which attention must be paid, before the question of classical learning can be fairly and temperately discussed. We are apt, in the first place, to remember the im- mense benefits which the study of the classics once conferred on mankind ; and to feel for those models on which the taste of Europe has been formed, some- thing like sentiments of gratitude and obligation. This is all well enough, so long as it continues to be a mere feeling ; but, as soon as it interferes with action, it nourishes dangerous prejudices about education. No- thing will do in the pursuit of knowledge but the blackest ingratitude ; the moment we have got up the ladder, we must ldck it down ;■ — as soon as we have passed over the bridge, we must let it rot ; — when we have got upon the shoulders of the ancients, we must look over their heads. The man who forgets the friends of his childhood in real life, is base : but he who clings to the props of his childhood in literature, must be content to remain as ignorant as he was when a child. His business is to forget, disown, and deny — to think himself above every thing which has been of use to him in time past — and to cultivate that exclu- sively from which he expects future advantage : in short, to do every thing for the advancement of his knowledge which it would be infamous to do for the advancement of his fortune If mankind still derive advantage from classical literature proportionate to the labour they bestow upon it, let their labour and their study proceed; but the moment we cease to read Latin and Greek for the solid utility we derive from them, it would be a very romantic application of human talents to do so from any feeling of gratitude, and recollection of past service. To almost every Englishman up to the age of three or four and twenty, classical learning has been the great object of existence ; and no man is very apt to suspect, or very much pleased to hear, that what he has done for so long a time was not worth doing. His classical literature, too. reminds every man of the scenes of his childhood, and brings to his fancy several of the most pleasing associations which we are capa- ble of forming.' A certain sort of vanity, also, very naturally grows among men occupied in a common pursuit. Classical quotations are the watch-words of scholars, by which they distinguish each other from the ignorant and illiterate ; and Greek and Latin are insensibly become almost the only test of a cultivated mind. Some men through indolence, others through ig- norance, and most through necessity, submit to the established education of the times ;• and seek for their children that species of distinction which happens, at the period in which they live, to be stamped with the approbation of mankind. This mere question of con- venience every parent must determine for himself. A poor man, who has his fortune to gain, must be a quibbling theologian, or a classical pedant, as fashion dictates ; and he must vary his error with the error of the times. But it would be much more fortunate for mankind, if the public opinion, which regulates the pursuits of individuals, were more wise and enlighten- ed than it at present is. All these considerations make it extremely difficult to procure a candid hearing on this question ; and to refer this branch of education to the only proper cri- terion of every branch of education — its utility in future life. There are two questions which grow out of this sub- ject : 1st, How far is any sort of classical education useful ? 2d, How far is that particular classical edu- cation adopted in this country useful ? make the life of a young student what it ought to be I a life of considerable labour. We do not, of course mean to confine this praise exclusively to the study of Latin and Greek ; or to suppose that other difrl culties might not be found which it would be useful to overcome : but though Latin and Greek have this merit in common with many arts and sciences, still they have it ; and, if they do nothing else, they at least secure a solid and vigorous application at a period of life which materially influences all other periods. To go through the grammar of one language thoroughly is of great use for the mastery of even; other grammar ; because there obtains, through ail languages, a certain analogy to each other in then grammatical construction. Latin and Greek have now mixed themselves etymologically with ail the languages of modern Europe — and with none more than our own ; so that it is necessary to read these two tongues for other objects than themselves. The two ancient languages are, as mere inventions — as pieces of mechanism, incomparably more beauti- ful than any of the modern languages of "Europe : their mode of signifying time and case by terminations, in- stead of auxiliary verbs and participles, would oi stamp their superiority. Add to this, the copiousness of the Greek language, with the fancy, majesty, and harmony of its compounds ; and there are quite suffi- cient reasons why the classics should be studied for beauties of language. Compared to them, merely as vehicles of thought and passion, all modern languages are dull, ill- contrived, and barbarous. That a great part of the Scriptures has come down to us in the Greek language, is of itself a reason, if ail others were wanting, why education should be planned so as to produce a supply of Greek scholars. The cultivation of style is very justty made a part of education. Every thing Avhich is written is meant either to please or to instruct. The second object it is difficult to effect, without attending to the first; and the cultivation of style is the acquisition of those rules and literary habits which sagacity anticipates, or experience shows to be the most effectual means of pleasing. Those works are the best which have longest stood the test of time, and pleased the greatest number of exercised minds. Whatever, therefore, cur conjectures may be, we cannot be so sure that the best modern writers can afford us as good models as the ancients ; — we cannot be certain that they will live through the revolutions of the world, and continue to please in every climate — under every species of go- vernment — through every stage of civilization.. The moderns have been well taught by their masters ; but the time is hardly yet come when the necessity for such instruction no longer exists. We may still borrow descriptive power from Tacitus ; dignified perspicuity from Livy ; simplicity from Caesar : and from Homer some portion of that light and heat which, dispersed into ten thousand channels, has filled the world with bright images and illustrious thoughts. Let the cultivator of modern literature addict himself to the purest models of taste which France, Italy, and England could supply, he might still learn from Virgil to be majestic, and from Tibullus to be tender ; he might not yet look upon the face of nature as Theocri- tus saw it ; nor might he reach those springs of pathos with which Euripides softened the hearts of his audi- ence. In short, it appears to us, that there are so many excellent reasons why a certain number of scho- lars shoidd he kept up in this and in every civilized country, that we should consider every system of edu- cation from which classical education was excluded, as radically erroneous and completely absurd. That vast advantages, then, may be derived from classical learning, there can !be uo doubt. The advan- tages which are dirived from classical learning by the English manner of teaching, involve another and a very different question ; and we will venture to say, that there never was a more complete instance in any country of such extravagant and overacted attachment to any branch of knowledge as that which obtains in Latin and Greek are in the first place, useful as I this country with regard to classical knowledge. A WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. young Englishman goes to school at six or seven years old; and he remains in a course of education till twenty-three or twenty-four years of age. In all that time, his sole and exclusive occupation is learning Lat- in and Greek :* he has scarcely a notion that there is any other kind of excellence ; and the great system of facts with which he is most perfectly acquainted, are the intrigues of the Heathen gods: with whom Pan slept ? — with whom Jupiter ? — whom Apollo ravished ? These facts the English youth get by heart the mo- ment they leave the nursery ; and are most sedulously instructed in them till the best and most active part of life is passed away. Now, this long career of classi- cal learning, we may, if we please, denominate a foun- dation ; but it is a foundation so far above ground, that ! is absolutely no room to put any thing upon it. i, you occupy a man with one thing till he is twenty- four years of age, you have exhausted all his leisure time : he is culled into the world, and compelled to act ; or is surrounded with pleasures, and thinks and reads no more. If you have neglected to put other things in him, they will never get in afterwards ; — if you have fed him only with words, he will remain a narrow and limited being to the end of his existence. The bias given to men's minds is so strong, that it is no uncommon thing to meet with Englishmen, whom, but for their grey hairs and wrinkles, we might easily mistake for schoolboys. Their*talk is of Latin verses ; and it is quite clear, if men's ages are to be dated from the state of their mental progress, that such men are eighteen years of age, and not a day older. Their minds have been so completely possessed by exagge- rated notions of classical learning, that they have not been able, in the general school of the world, to form any other notions of real greatness. Attend, too, to the public feelings— look to all the terms of applause. A learned man ! — a scholar ! — a man of erudition ! Upon whom are these epithets of approbation be- st 3 wed ? Are they given to men acquainted with the science of government ? thoroughly masters of the ., : graphical and commercial relations of Europe ? to men who know the properties of bodies, and their ac- tion upon each other? No : this is not learning : it is chemistry, or political economy — not learning. The distinguishing abstract term, the epithet of Scholar, is reserved for him who writes on the CEolic reduplica- tion, and is familiar with the Sylburgian method of ar- ranging defectives in a> and pi. The picture which a young Englishman, addicted to the pursuit of knowl- edge, draws — his beau ideal, of human nature — his top and consummation of man's powers — is a knowledge of the Greek language. His object is not to reason, to imagine, or to invent ; but to conjugate, decline, and derive. The situations of imaginary glory which he draws for himself, are the detection of an anapaest in the wrong place, or the restoration of a dative case which Cranzius had passed over, and the never-dying Ernesti failed to observe. If a young classic of this kind were to meet the greatest chemist or the great- est mechanician, or the most profound political econ- mist of his time, in company with the greatest Greek scholar, would the slightest comparison between them ever come across his mind ? — would he ever dream that such men as Adam Smith and Lavoisier were equal in dignity of understanding to, or of the same utility as, Bentley and Heyne ? We are inclined to think, that the feeling excited would be a good deal like that which was expressed by Dr. George about the praises of the great King of Prussia, who entertained considerable doubts whether the king, with all his vic- tories, knew how to conjugate a Greek verb in pt . Another misfortune of classical learning, as taught in England, is, that scholars have come, in process of time, and from the effects of association, to love the instrument better than the end ;— not the luxury which fhe difficulty encloses, but the difficulty ;— not the fil- bert, but the shell); — not what may read in Greek, but Greek itself. It is not so much the man who has * Unless he goes to the University of Cambridge ; and then classics occupy him entirely for about ten years ; and divide him with mathematics for four or five more. mastered the wisdom of the ancients, that is valued, as he who displays his knowledge of the vehicle hi which that wisdom is conveyed. The glory is to show I am a scholar. The good sense and ingenuity I may gain by my acquaintance with ancient authors is mat- ter of opinion ; but if I bestow an immensity of pains upon a point of accent or quantity, this is something positive ; I establish my pretensions to the name of scholar, and gain the credit of learning, while I sacri- fice all its utility. Another evil in the present system of classical edu- cation is the extraordinary perfection which is aimed at in teaching those languages ; a needless perfection; an accuracy which is sought for in nothing else. There are few boys who remain to the age of eighteen or nineteen at a public school, without making above ten thousand Latin verses ; — a greater number than is con- tained in the JEneid : and after he has made this quan- tity of verses in a dead language, unless the poet should happen to be a very weak man indeed, he nev- er makes another as long as he lives. It may be urged, and it is urged, that this is of use in teaching the del- icacies ol the language. No doubt it is of use for this purpose, if we put out of view the immense time and trouble sacrificed in gaming these little delicacies. It would be of use that we should go on till fifty year? of age making Latin verses, if the price of a whole life were not too much to pay for it. We effect ous object ; but we do it at the price of something greater than our object. And whence comes it that the ex- penditure of life and labour is totally put out of the calculation, when Latin and Greek are to be attained? In every other occupation, the question is fairly stated between the attainment, and the time employed in the pursuit ; — but in classical learning, it seems to be suf- ficient if the least possible good is gained by the great- est possible exertion ; if the end is anything, and the means every thing. It is of some importance to speak and write French ; and innumerable delicacies would be gained by writing ten thousand French verses : but it makes no" part of our education to write French po- etry. It is of some importance that there should be good botanists ; but no botanist can repeat, by heart, the names of all the plants in the known world ; nor is any astronomer acquainted with the appellation and magnitude of every star in the map of the heavens. The only department of human knowledge in which there can be no excess, no arithmetic, no balance of profit and loss, is classical learning. The prodigious honour in which Latin verses are held at public schools, is surely the most absurd of all absurd distinctions. You rest all reputation upon that which is a natural gift, and which nolabour can attain. If a lad won't learn the words of a language, his degra- dation in the school is a very natural punishment for his disobedience, or his indolence ; but it would be as reasonable to expect that all boys should be witty or beautiful, as that they should be poets. In either case it would be to make an accidental, unattainable, and not a yery important gift of nature, the only, or principal test of merit. This is the reason why boys, who make a very considerable figure at school, so very often make no figure in the world ; and why other lads, who are passed over without notice, turn out to be valuable important men. The test established in the world is widely different from that established in a place which is presumed to be a preparation for the world ; and the head of a public school, who is a per- fect miracle to his contemporaries, finds himself shrink into absolute insignificance, because he has nothing else to command respect or regard, but a talent for fugitive poetry in a dead language. The present state of classical education cultivates the imagination a great deal too much, and other habits of mind a great deal too little ; and trains up many young men in a style of elegant imbecility, utterly unworthy of the talents with which nature has en- dowed them. It may be said there are profound inves- tigations, and subjects quite powerful enough for any understanding, to be met with in classical literature. So there are ; but no man likes to add the diffi- culties of a language to the difficulties of a subject; and to study metaphysics, morals, and politics in TOO MUCH LATIN AND GREEK. 53 Greek, when the Greek alone is study enough without them. In all foreign languages, the most popular works are works of imagination. Even in the French language, which we know so well, for one serious work which has any currency in this country, we have twenty which are mere works of imagination. This is still more true in classical literature; because what their poets and orators have left us, is of infinitely greater value than the remains of their philosophy ; for, as society advances, men think more accurately and deeply, and imagine more tamely; works of rea- soning advance, and works of fancy decay. So that the matter of fact is, that a classical scholar of twenty- three or twentjr.four years of age, is a man principally conversant with works of imagination. His feelings are quick, his fancy lively, and his taste good. Talents for speculation and original inquiry he has none ; nor has he formed the invaluable habit of pushing things up to their first principles, or of collecting dry and iinamusing facts as the elements of reasoning. All the solid and masculine parts of his understanding are left wholly without cultivation ; he hates the pain of think- ing, and suspects every man whose boldness and origi- nality call upon him to defend his opinions and prove his assertions. A very curious argument is sometimes employed in justification of the learned minutiae to which all young men are doomed, whatever be their propensities in future life. What are you to do with a young man up to the age of seventeen? Just as if there was such a want of difficulties to overcome, and of important tastes to inspire, that, from the mere necessity of doing something, and the impossibility of doing any thing else, you were driven to the expedient of metre and poetry ; — as if a young man within that period might not acquire the modern languages, modern his- tory, experimental philosophy, geography, chrono- logy, and a considerable share of mathematics ; — as if the memory of things was not more agreeable and more profitable than.th© memory of words. The great objection is, that we are not making the most of human life, when we constitute such an ex- tensive, and such minute classical erudition, an indis- pensable article in education. Up to a certain point we would educate every young man in Latin and Greek ; but to a point far short of that to which this species of education is now carried. Afterwards, we would grant to classical erudition as high honours as to every other department of knowledge, but not higher. We would place it upon a footing with many other objects of study ; but allow to it no superiority. Good scholars would be as certainly produced by these means as good chemists, astronomers, and mathema- ticians are now produced, without any direct provision whatsoever for their production. Why are we to trust to the diversity of human tastes, and the vareties of human ambition in every thing else, and distrust it in classics alone ? The passion for language is just as strong as any other literary passion. There are very good Persian and Arabic scholars in this country. Large heaps of trash have been dug up from Sanscrit ruins. We have seen, in our own times, a clergyman of the University of Oxford complimenting their majes- ties in Coptic and Syrophosnician verses ; and yet we doubt whether there will be a sufficient avidity in lite- rary men to get at the beauties of the finest writers which the world has yet seen ; and though the Bagvat Gheeta has (as can be proved) met with human beings to translate, and other human beings to read it, we think that, in order to secure an attention to Homer and Virgil, we must catch up every man — whether he is to be a clergyman or a duke — begin with him at six years of age, and never quit him till he is twenty ; making him conjugate and decline for life and death ; and so teaching him to estimate his progress in real wisdom as he can scan the verses of the Greek trage- dians. The English clergy, in whose hands education entirely rests, bring up the first younsp men of the country as if they were all*to keep grammar schools in little country towns ; and a nobleman, upon whose knowledge and liberality the honour and welfare of his country may depend, is diligently worried, for half his life, with the small pedantry of longs and shorts. There is a timid and absurd apprehension, on the part of ecclesi- astical tutors, of letting out the minds of youth upon difficult and important subjects. They fancy that mental exertion must end in religious scepticism ; and ; to preserve the principles of their pupils, they confine them to the safe and elegant imbecility of classical learning. A genuine Oxford tutor would shudder to hear his young men disputing upon moral and political truth, forming and pulling down theories, and indulging in all the boldness of youthful discussion. He would augur nothing from it but impiety to God and treason, to kings. And yet, who vilifies both more than the holy poltroon who carefully averts from them the searching eye of reason, and who knows no better me- thod of teaching the highest duties, than by extirpa- ting the finest qualities and habits of the mind ? If our religion is a fable, the sooner it is exploded the better. If our government is bad, it should be amend- ed. But we have no doubt of the truth of the one, or of the excellence of the other ; and are convinced that both will be placed on a firmer basis in proportion as the minds of men are more trained to the investigation of truth. At present, we act with the minds of our young men as the Dutch did with their exuberant spices. An infinite quantity of talent is annually de- stroyed in the universities of England by the miserable jealousy and littleness of ecclesiastical instructors. It is in vain to say we have produced great men under this system. We have produced great men under all systems. Every Englishman must pass half his life in learning Latin and Greek ; and classical learning is supposed to have produced the talents which it has not been able to extinguish. It is scarcely possible to prevent great men from rising up under any system ot education, however bad. Teach men demonology or astrology, and you will still have a certain portion of original genius, in spite of these or any other branches of ignorance and folly. There is a delusive sort of splendour in a vast body of men pursuing one object, and thoroughly obtaining it ; and yet, though it is very splendid, it is far from being useful. Classical literature is the great object at Oxford. Many minds so employed, have produced many works and much fame in that department ; but if all liberal arts and sciences useful to human life had been taught there — if some had dedicated themselves to chemistry, some to mathematics, some to experi- mental philosophy — and if every attainment had been honoured in the mixed ratio of its difficulty and utility, the system of such an University would have been much more valuable, but the splendour of its name something less. When an University has been doing useless things for a long time, it appears at first degrading to them to be useful. A set of lectures upon political economy would be discouraged in Oxford,* probably despised, probably not permitted. To discuss the inclosure of commons, and to dwell upon imports and exports — to come so near to common life, would seem to be undig- nified and contemptible. In the same manner, the Parr, or the Bentley of his day, would be scandalized in an University to be put on a level with the disco- verer of a neutral salt ; and yet, what other measure is there of dignity in intellectual labour, but usefulness and difficulty ? And what ought the term University to mean, but a place where every science is taught which is liberal, and at the same time useful to man- kind?' Nothing would so much tend to bring classical literature within proper bounds as a steady and inva- riable appeal to these tests in our appreciation of all human knowledge. The puffed up pedant would col- lapse into his proper size, and the maker of verses, and the rememberer of words would soon assume that station which is the lot of those, who go up unbidden to the upper places of the feast. We should be sorry if what we have said should appear too contemptuous towards classical learning, which we most sincerely hope will always be held in great honour in this country, though we certainly do not wish to it that exclusive honour which it at present * They have since been established. ■A WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. enjoys. A great classical scholar is an ornament, and an important acquisition to his country; but, in a place of education, we would give to all knowledge an equal chance for distinction ; and would trust to the varieties of human disposition that every science worth culti- vation would be cultivated. Looking always to real utility as our guide, we should see, with equal pleasure, a studious and inquisitive mind arranging the produc- tions of nature, investigating the qualities of bodies, or mustering the difficulties of the learned languages. We should not care whether he were chemist, natural- ist, or scholar ; because we know it to be as necessary that matter should be studied, and subdued to the use ii, as that taste should be gratified, and imagina- tion inflamed. In those who were destined for the church, we would undoubtedly encourage classical learning more than hi any other body of men ; but if we had to do with a 3'oung man going out into public life, we would exhort him to contemn, or at least not to affect, the reputa- tion of a great scholar, but to educate himself for the offices of civil life. He should learn what the consti- tution of his country really was, how it had grown into its present state, the perils that had threatened it, the malignity that had attacked it, the courage that had Lt for it, and the wisdom that had made it great. We would bring strongly before his mind the charac- ters of those Englishmen who have been the steady friends of the public happiness ; and by their exam- ples, would breathe into him a pure public taste which would keep him untainted in all the vicissitudes of political fortune. We would teach him to burst through the well-paid, and the pernicious cant of indiscriminate loyalty ; and to know his sovereign only as he dis- charged those duties, and displayed those qualities, for which the blood and the treasure of his people are confided to his hands. We should deem it of the ut- mos: importance that his attention was directed to the true principles of legislation — what effect laws can produce upon opinions, and opinions upon laws — what subjects are fit for legislative interference, and, when men may be left to the management of their own in- terests. The mischief occasioned by bad laws, and the perplexity which arises from numerous laws — the causes of national wealth — the relations of foreign trade — the encouragement of manufactures and agri- culture — the fictitious wealth occasioned by paper credit — the laws of population — the management of poverty and mendicity — the use and abuse of monopo- ly — the theory of taxation — the consequences of the public debt. These are some of the subjects, and some of the branches of civil education to which we would turn the minds of future judges, future senators, and future noblemen, After the first period of life had been given up to the cultivation of the classics, and the reasoning powers were now beginning to evolve them- selves, these are some of the propensities in study which we would endeavour to inspire. Great know- ledge, at such a period of life, we could not convey ; nut we might fix a decided taste for its acquisition, and a strong disposition to respect it in others. The formation of some great scholars we should certainly prevent, and hinder many from learning what, in a few / years, they would necessarily forget ; but this loss would be well repaid — if we could show the future ru- lers of the country that thought and labour which it requires to make a nation happy, or if we could inspire them with that love of public virtue, which, after reli- gion, we most solemnly believe to be the brightest or- nament of the mind of man. FEMALE EDUCATION. (Edinburgh Review, 1810.) Advice to Young Ladies on the Improvement of the Mind. By Thomas Broadhurst. 8vo. London, 1808. Mr. Broadhurst is a very good sort of a man, who has not written a very bad book, upon a very important subject, His object (a very laudable one) is to re- commend a better system of female education than at preseut prevails in this country— to turn the attention of women from the trifling pursuits to which they are now condemned — and to cultivate faculties which,, un- der the actual system of management, might almost as well not exist. To the examination of his ideas upon these points, we shall very cheerfully give up a. portion of our time and attention. A great deal has been said of the original difference of capacity between men and women ; as if women were more quick, and men more judicious ; as if wo- men were more remarkable for delicacy of associa- tion, and men for stronger powers of attention. All this, we confess, appears to us very fanciful. That there is a difference in the understandings of the men and the women we every day meet with, every body, we suppose, must perceive ; but there is none* surely which may not be accounted for by the difference of circumstances in which they have been placed, with- out referring to any conjectural difference of original conformation of mind. As long as boys and girls run about in the dirt, and trundle hoops together, they are both precisely alike. If you catch up one half of these creatures, and train them to a particidar set of actions and opinions, and the other half to a perfectly oppo- site set, of course their understandings will differ, as one or the other sort of occupations has called this or that talent into action. There is surely no occasion to go into any deeper or more abstruse reasoning, in or- der to explain so very simple a phenomenon. Taking it, then, for granted, that nature has been as bountiful of understanding to one sex as the other, it is incum- bent on us to consider what are the principal objec- tions commonly made against the communication of a greater share of knowledge to women than commonly falls to their lot at present : for though it may be doubted whether women should learn all that men learn, the immense disparity which now exists be- tween their knowledge we would hardly think could admit of any rational defence. It is not easy to ima- gine that there can be any just cause why a woman of forty should be more ignorant than a boy of twelve years of age. If there be any good at all in female ig- norance, this (to use a very colloquial phrase) is sure- ly too much of" a good thing. Something in this question must depend, no doubt, upon the leisure which either sex enjoys for the culti- vation of their understandings :, — and we cannot help thinking, that women have fully as much, if not more idle time upon their hands than men. Women are ex- cluded from all the serious business of the world ; men are lawyers physicians, clergymen, apothecaries, and justices of the peace — sources of exertion which con- sume a great deal more time than producing and suck- ling children ; so that, if the thing is a thing that ought to be done — if the attainments of literature are objects really worthy the attention of females, they cannot plead the want of leisure as an excuse for indo- lence and neglect. The lawyer, who passes his day in exasperating the bickerings of Roe and Doe, is certain- ly as much engaged as his lady who has the whole of the morning before her to correct the children and pay the bills. The apothecary, who rushes from an act of phlebotomy in the western parts of the town to in- sinuate a bolus in the east, is surely as completely ab- sorbed as that fortunate female, who is darning the garment, or preparing the repast of her iEsculapius at home ; and in every degree and situation in life, it seems that men must necessarily be expo-ed to more serious demands upon their time and attention than can possibly be the case with respect to the other sex. We are speaking always of the fair demands which ought to be made upon the time and attention of women ; for, as the matter now stands, the time of women is con- sidered as worth nothing at all. Daughters are kept to occupations in sewing, patching mantua-making, and mending, by which it is impossible they can earn tenpence a day. The intellectual improvement of wo- men is considered to be of such subordinate impor- tance, that twenty pounds paid for needle-work would give to a whole family fthure to acquire a fund of real knowledge. They are kept with nimble fingers and vacant understandings,till the season of improvement is utterly passed away, and all chance of forming more important habits completely lest. We do no FEMALE EDJCATION. 5* therefore say that women have more leisure than men, if it be necessary that they should lead the life of artisans ; but we make this assertion only upon the supposition, that it is of some importance women should be instructed ; and that many ordinary occupa- tions for which a little money will find a better substi- tute, should be sacrificed to this consideration. We bar in this discussion, any objection which pro- ceeds from thetnere novelty of teaching women more than they are already taught. It may be useless that their education should be improved, or it may be per- nicious ; and these are the fair grounds on which the question may be argued. But those who cannot bring their minds to consider such an unusual extension of knowledge, without connecting with it some sensation of the ludicrous, should remember that, in the progress from absolute ignorance, there is a period when culti- vation of mind is new to every rank and description of persons. A century ago, who would have believed that country gentlemen could be brought to read and spell with the ease and accuracy which we now fre- quently remark, or supposed that they could be carried even to the elements of ancient and modern history? Nothing is more common or more stupid, than to take the actual for the possible^ — to believe that all which is, is all which can be ; first, to laugh at every proposed deviation from practice as impossible — then, when it is carried into effect, to be astonished that it did not take place before. It is said, that the effect of knowledge is to make women pedantic and affected ; and that nothing can "be more offensive than to see a woman stepping out of the natural modesty of her sex to make an ostentatious display of her literary attainments. This may be true enough ; but the answer is so trite and obvious, that we are ..almost ashamed to make it. All affectation and display proceed from the supposition of possessing something better than the rest of the world possesses. Nobody is vain of possessing two legs and two arms ; — because that is the precise quantity of either sort of limb which every body possesses. Who ever heard a lady boast that she understood French? — for no other reason, that we know of, but because every body in these days does understand French ; and though there may be some disgrace in being ignorant of that lan- guage, there is little or no merit in its acquisition. Dif- fuse knowledge generally among women, and you will at once cure the conceit which knowledge occasions while it is rare. Vanity and conceit we shall of course witness in men and women ..as long as the world en- dures : but by multiplying the attainments upon which these feelings are founded, you increase the difficulty of indulging them, and render them much more toler- able, by making them the proofs of much higher merit. When learning ceases to be uncommon among women, learned women will cease to be affected. A great many of the lesser and more obscure duties of life necessarily devolve upon the female sex. The arrangement of all household matters, and the care of children in their early infancy, must of course depend upon them. Now, there is a very general notion, that the moment you put the education of women upon a better footing than it is at present, at that moment there will be an end of all domestic economy ; and that if you once suffer women to eat of the tree of know- ledge, the rest of the family will very soon be reduced to the same kind of aerial and unsatisfactory diet. These, and all such opinions, are referable to one great and common cause of error ; — that man does every- thing, and that nature does nothing ; and that every- thing we see is referable to positive institution rather than to original feeling. Can anything, for example, ie more perfectly absurd than to suppose that the care and perpetual solicitude which a mother feels for her children, depends upon her ignorance of Greek and mathematics ; and that she would desert an infant for a quadratic equation ? We seem to imagine that we caiv break in pieces the solemn institution of nature, by the little laws of a boarding-school ; and that the existence of the human race depends upon teaching women a little more, or a little less ; — that Cimmerian giorance can aid paternal affection, cr the circle of iffts and sciences produce its destruction. In the same manner, we forget the principles upon which the love of order, arrangement, and all the arts of economy depend. They depend not upon ignorance nor idle- ness, but upon the poverty, confusion, and ruin which would ensue from neglecting them. Add to these prin- ciples, the love of what is beautiful and magnificent, and the vanity of display : — and there can surely be no reasonable doubt but that the order and economy of private life is amply secured from the perilous inroads of knowledge. We would fain know, too, if knowledge is to pro- duce such baneful effects upon the material and the household virtues, why this influence has not already been felt ? Women are much better educated now than they were a century ago ; but they are by no means less remarkable for attention to the arrange- ment of their household, or less inclined to discharge the offices of parental affection It would be very easy to show that the same objection has been made at all times to every improvement in the education of both sexes and all ranks — and been as uniformly and completely refuted by experience . A great part of the objections made to the education of women, are ra ther objections made to human nature than to the fe male sex : for it is surely true that knowledge, where it produces any bad effects at all, does as much mis- chief to one sex as to the other, — and gives birth to fully as much arrogance, inattention to common affairs, and eccentricity, among men, as it does among women. But i t by no means follows that you get rid of vanity and self-conceit, because you get rid of learn- ing. Self-complacency can never want an excuse ; and the best way to make it more tolerable, and more useful, is to give to it as high and as dignified an ob- ject as possible. But, at all events, it is unfair to bring forward against a part of the world an objection which is equally powerful against the whole. When foolish women think they have any distinction, they are apt to be proud of it ; so are foolish men. But we appeal to any one who has lived with cultivated per- sons of either sex, whether he has not witnessed as much pedantry, as much wrongheadedness, as much arrogance, and certainly a great deal more rudeness, produced by learning in men, than in women 5 there- fore, we should make the accusation general — or dis- miss it altogether ; though, with respect to pedantry, the learned are certainly a little unfortunate, that so very emphatic a word, which is occasionally applied to all men embarked eagerly in any pursuit, should be reserved exclusively for them : for, as pedantry is an ostentatious obtrusion of knowledge, in which those who hear us cannot sympathize, it is a fault of which soldiers, sailors, sportsmen, gamesters, cultivators, and all men engaged in a particular occupation, are quite as guilty as scholars ; but they have the good fortune to have the vice only of pedantry, — while scho- lars have both the vice and"the name of it too. Some persons are apt to contrast the acquisition of important knowledge with what they call simple plea- sures ; and deem it more becoming that a woman should educate flowers, make friendships with birds, and pick up plants, than enter into more difficult and fatiguing studies. If a woman has no taste and genius for higher occupations, let her engage in these, to be sure, rather than remain destitute of any pursuit. But why are we necessarily to doom a girl, whatever be her taste or her capacity, to one unvaried line of pet- ty and frivolous occupation ? If she is full of strong sense and elevated curiosity, can there be any reason why she should be diluted and enfeebled down to a mere culler of simples, and fancier of birds? — why- books of history and reasoning are to be torn out of her hands, and why she is to be sent, like a butterfly, to hover over the idle flowers of the field ? Such amusements are innocent to those whom they can occupy ; but they are not innocent to those who have too powerful understandings to be occupied by them Light broths and fruits are innocent food only to weak or to infant stomachs ; but they are poison to that organ in its perfect and mature state. But the great charm seems to be in the word simplicity— simple pleasures ! If by a simple pleasure is meant an inno- cent pleasure, the observation is best answered by 56 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. showing, that the pleasure which results from the acquisition of important knowledge is quite as inno- cent as any pleasure whatever: but if by a simple pleasure is meant one, the cause of which can be easily analyzed, or which does not last long, or which in itself i§ very faint, then simple pleasures seem to be very nearly synonymous with small pleasures ; and if the simplicity were to be a little increased, the plea- sure would vanish altogether. As it is impossible that every man should have industry or activity sufficiently to avail himself of the advantages of education, it is natural that men who are ignorant themselves, should view, with some de- gree of jealousy and alarm any proposal for improving the education of women. But such men may depend upon it, however the system of female education may be exalted, that there will never be wanting a due pro- portion of failures ; and that after parents, guardians, and preceptors have done all in their power to make everybody wise, there will be a plentiful supply of women who have taken special care to remain other- wise ; and they may rest assured, if the utter extinc- tion of ignorance and folly is the evil they dread, that their intere'sts will always be eifectualiy protected, in spite of every exertion to the contrary. We must in candour allow that those women who begin will have something more to overcome than may probably hereafter be the case. We cannot deny the jealousy which exists among pompous and foolish men respecting the education of women. There is a class of pedants who would be cut short in the estima- tion of the world a whole cubit if it were generally known that a young lady of eighteen could be taught to decline the tenses of the middle voice, or acquaint herself with the iEolic varieties of that celebrated language. Then women have, of course, all ignorant men for enemies to their instruction, who being bound (as they think) , iri* point of sex, to know more, are not well pleased, in point of fact, to know less. But, among men of sense and liberal politeness, a woman who has succesfully cultivated her mind, without diminishing the gentleness and propriety of her manners, is always sure to meet with a respect and attention bordering upon enthusiasm. There is in either sex a strong and permanent dis- position to appear agreeable to the other; and this is the fair answer to those who are fond of supposing, that an higher degree of knowledge would make wo- men rather the rivals than the companions of men. Presupposing such a desire to please, it seems much more probable, that a common pursuit should be a fresh source of interest, than a cause of contention. Indeed, to suppose that any mode of education can create a general jealousy and rivalry between the sex- es, is so very ridiculous, that it requires only to be stated in order to be refuted. The same desire of pleasing secures all that delicacy and reserve which are of such inestimable value to women. We are quite astonished, in hearing men converse on such subjects, to find them attributing such beautiful ef- fects to ignorance. It would appear, from the tenour of such objections, that ignorance had been the great civilizer of the world. Women are delicate and refi- ned, only because they are ignorant ; — they manage their household, only because they are ignorant ; — they attend to their children, only because they know no better. Now, we must reaUy confess, Ave have all our lives been so ignorant as not to know the value of ignorance. We have always attributed the modesty and refined manners of women, to their being well taught in moral and religious duty, — to the hazardous situation in which they are placed,— to that perpetual vigilance which it is their duty to exercise over thought, and word, and action,— and to that cultiva- tion of the mild virtues, which those who cultivate the stern and magnanimous virtues expect at their hands. After all, let it be remembered, Ave are not saying there are no objections to the diffusion of knowledge among the female sex. We Avouid not hazard such a proposition respecting any thing; but Ave are saying. that, upon the Avhole, it is the best method of employ- ing time ; and that there arc fcAver objections to it than to any other method. There are, perhaps, 50,000 females in Great Britain who are exempted by circum- stances from all necessary labour : but every numan being must do something with their existence ; and the pursuit of knowledge is upon the whole, the most innocent, the most dignified, and the most useful me- thod of filling up that idleness, of which there is al- ways so large a portion in nations far advanced in civilization. Let any man reflect, too, upon the soli- tary situation in which Avomen are placed, — the ill treatment to which they are sometimes exposed, and which they must endure in silence, and without the power of complaining, — and he must feel convinced that the happiness of a woman will be materially in- creased in proportion as education has given her the habit and the means of draAving her resources from herself. There are a few common phrases in circulation, re- specting the duties of women, to Avhich we Avish to pay some degree of attention, because they are rather inimical to those opinions which we have advanced on this subject. Indeed, independently of this, there is nothing Avhich requires more vigilance than the cur- rent phrases of the day, of which there are always some resorted to in every dispute, and from the sove- reign authority of which it is often vain to make any appeal. t The true theatre for a woman is the sick- chamber ;' — f Nothing so honourable to a woman as not to be spoken of at all.' These tAvo phrases, the delight of Noodledom, are groAvn into common-places upon the subject ; and are not unfrequently employed to extinguish that love of knowledge in Avomen, Avhich, in our humble opinion, it is of o much' importance to cherish. Nothing, certainly, is so ornamental and delightful in Avomen as the benevolent affections ; but time cannot be filled up. and life employed, with high and impassioned A'irtues. Some of these feelings are of rare occurrence — all of short duration — or nature would sink under them. A scene of distress and anguish is an occasion Avhere the finest qualities of the female mind may be displayed ; but it is a mon- strous exaggeration to tell women that they are born only for scenes of distress and anguish. Nurse father, mother, sister, and brother, if they Avant it ; — it Avouid be a violation of the plainest duties to neglect them But, Avhen we are talking of the common occupations of life, do not let us mistake the accidents for the oc- cupations; — AAiien Ave are arguing how the twenty. three hours of the day are to be fiUed up, it is idle to tell us of those feelings and agitations above the level of common existence, which may employ the remain- ing hour. Compassion, and every other virtue, are the great objects Ave all ought to have in view ; but no man (and no woman) can fill up the twenty-four hours by acts of virtue. But one is a lawyer, and the other a ploughman, and the third a merchant ; and then, acts of goodness and intervals of compassion, and fine feeling, are scattered up and down the common occu- pations of life. We knoAv women are to be compas- sionate ; but they cannot be compassionate from eight o'clock in the morning till twelve at night : — and Avhat are they to do in the interval ? This is the only ques- tion Ave have been putting all along, and is all that can be meant by literary education. Then, again, as to the notoriety Avhich is incurred by literature. — The cultivation of 'knowledge is a very distinct thing from its publication ; nor does it follow that a woman is to become an author merely because she has talent enough for it. We do not wish a lady to Avrite books, — to defend and reply, — to squabble about the tomb of Achilles, or the plain of Troy, — any more than we Avish her to dance at the opera . to play at a public concert, or to put pictures in the exhibition, because she has learned music, dancing, and drawing. The great use of her knowledge will be that it contri- butes to her private happiness. She may make it public : but it is not the principal object which the friends of female education have in view. Among men, the feAv who write bear no comparison to the many Avho read. We hear most of the former, in- deed, because they are, in general, the most ostenta- tious part of literary men ; but there are innumerable persons A\iio, without ever laying themselves before the public, have made use of literature to add to the strength of their understandings, and to improve the happiness of their lives. After all,, it may be an evil FEMALE EDUCATION. 57 for ladies to be talked of: but we really think those ladies who are talked of only as Mrs. Marcet, Mrs. Somerville, and Miss Martineau are talked of, may bear their misfortunes with a very great degree of Christian patience. Their exemption from all the necessary business of life is one of the most powerful motives for the im- provement of education in women. Lawyers and physicians have in their professions a constant motive to exertion ; if you neglect their education, they must in a certain degree educate themselves by their com- merce with the world : they must learn caution, ac- auracy, and judgment, because they must incur re- sponsibility. But if you neglect to educate the mind of a woman, by the speculative difficulties which occur in literature, it can never be educated at all : if you do not effectually rouse it by education, it must remain for ever languid. Uneducated men may escape intellectual degradation ; uneducated women cannot. They have nothing to do ; and if they come untaught from the schools of education, they will never be in- structed in the school of events. Women have not their livelihood to gain by know- ledge ; and that is one motive for relaxing all those efforts which are made in the education of men. They certainly have not ; but they have happiness to gain, to which knowledge leads as probably as it does to profit ; and that is a reason against mistaken indul- gence. Besides, we conceive the labour and fatigue of accomplishments to be quite equal to the labour and fatigue of knowledge ; and that it takes quite as many years to be charming as it does to be learned. Another difference of the sexes is, that women are attended to, and men attend All acts of courtesy and politeness originate from the one sex, and are received by the other. We can see no sort of reason, in this diversity of condition, for giving to women a trifling and insignificant education ; but we see in it a very powerful reason for strengthening their judg- ment, and inspiring them with the habit of employing time usefully. We admit many striking differences in the situation of the two sexes, and many striking differences of understanding, proceeding from the dif- ferent circumstances in which they are placed : but there is not a single difference of this kind which does Dot afford a new argument for making the education of women better than it is. They have nothing serious to do ; — is that a reason why they should be brought up to do nothing but what is trifling ? They are ex- posed to great dangers ; — is that a reason why their faculties are to be purposely and industriously weak- ened? They are to form the characters of future men ; — is that a cause why their own characters are to be broken and flittered down as they now are ? In short, there is not a single trait in that diversity of circumstances, in which the two sexes are placed, that does not decidedly prove the magnitude of the error we commit in neglecting (as we do neglect) the edu- cation of women. If the objections against the better education of wo- men could be overruled, one of the great advantages that would ensue would be the extinction of innumera- ble follies. A decided and prevailing taste for one or another mode of education there must be. A century past, it was for housewifery — now it is for accomplish- ments. The object now is, to make women artists, — to give them an excellence in drawing, music, paint- ing, and dancing, — of which, persons who make these pursuits the occupation of their lives, and derive from them their subsistence, need not be ashamed. Now, one great evil of all this is, that it does not last. If the whole of life were an Olympic game, — if we could go on feasting and dancing to the end, — this might do ; but it is in truth merely a provision for the little inter- val between coming into life, and settling in it ; while it leaves a long and dreary expanse behind, devoid both of dignity and cheerfulness. No mother, no wo- man who has passed over the few first years of life, sings, or dances, or draws, or plays upon musical in- struments ! These are merely means for displaying the grace and vivacity of youth, which every woman gives up, as she gives up the dress and the manners eighteen ; she has no wish to retain them ; or, if she \ has, she is driven out of them by diameter and deri- sion. The system of female education, as it now stands, aims only at embellishing a few years of life, which are in themselves so full of grace and happiness, that they hardly want it ; and then leaves the rest of existence a miserable prey to idle insignificance. No woman of understanding and reflection can possibly conceive she is doing justice to her children by sucn kind of education. The object is, to give to children resources that will endure as long as life endures, — habits that time will ameliorate, not destroy, — occu- pations that will render sickness tolerable, solitude pleasant, age venerable, life more dignified and useful, and therefore death less terrible : and tbe compensa- tion which is offered for the ommission of all this, is a pshort-lived blaze, — a little temporary effect, which has no other consequence than to deprive the remainder of life of all taste and relish. There may be women who have a taste for the fine arts, and who evince a decided talent for drawing, or tor music. In that case, there can be no objection to the cultivation of these arts ; but the error is, to make such things the grand and universal object, — to insist upon it that every woman is to sing, and draw, and dance — with nature, or against nature, — to bind her apprentice to some accomplishment, and if she cannot succeed in oil or water-colours, to prefer gilding, varnishing, bur- nishing, box-making, to real solid improvement in taste, knowledge, and understanding. A great deal is said in favour of the social nature of the fine arts. Music gives pleasure to others. Drawing is an art, the amusement of which does not centre in him who exercises it, but is diffused among the rest of the world. This is true ; but there is no- thing, after all, so social as a cultivated mind. We do not mean to speak slightingly of the fine arts, or to depreciate the good humour with which they are sometimes exhibited ; but we appeal to any man, whe- ther a little spirited and sensible conversation — dis- playing, modestly, useful acquirements — and evincing rational curiosity, is not well worth the highest exer- tions of musical or graphical skill. A woman of accomplishments may entertain those who have the pleasure of knowing her for half an hour with great brilliancy ; but a mind full of ideas, and with that elastic spring which the love of knowledge only can convey, is a perpetual source of exhilaration and amusement to all that come within its reach; — not collecting its force into single and insulated achieve- ments, like the effort made in the fine arts — but dif- fusing, equally over the whole of existence, a calm pleasure — better loved as it is longer felt — and suit- able to every variety and every period of life. There- fore, instead of hanging the understanding of a woman upon walls, or hearing it vibrate upon strings, — in- stead of seeing it hi clouds, or hearing it in the wind, we would make it the first spring and ornament of society, by enriching it with attainments upon which alone such power depends. If the education of women were improved, the edu- cation of men would be improved also. Let any one consider (in order to bring the matter more home by an individual instance) of what immense importance to society it is, whether a nobleman of first-rate for- tune and distinction is well or ill brought up ; — what a taste and fashion he may inspire for private and for political vice ! — and what misery and mischief he may produce to the thousand human beings who are de- pendent on him ! A country contains no such curse within its bosom. Youth, wealth, high rank, and vice, form a combination which baffles all remon- strance and beats down all opposition. A man of high rank who combines these qualifications for corruption, is almost the master of the manners of the age, and has the public happiness within his grasp. But the most beautiful possession which a country can have is a noble and rich man, who loves virtue and know- ledge ; — who without being feeble or fanatical is pious — and who without being factious is firm and inde pendent ; — who, in his political life, is an equitable mediator between king and people ; and, in his civil life, a firm promoter of all which can shed a lustre upon his country, or promote the peace and order of WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH the world. But if these objects are of the importance ■which we attribute to them, the education of women must i i important, as the formation of character for the first seven or eight years of life seems to depend almost entirely upon them. It is certainly in the power of a sensible and well-educated mother to in- spire ;: thin that period, such tastes and propensities as shall nearly decide the destiny of the future man ; and this is done, not only by the intentional exertions of the .nother, but by the gradual and insensible imi- tation of the child ; for there is something extremely contagious in greatness and rectitude of thinking, even at that, age; and the character of the mother with whom I e passes his early infancy, is always an event of the utmost importance to the child. A merely ac- complished woman cannot infuse her tastes into the minds of her sons; and, if she could, nothing could be more unfortunate than her success. Besides, when her accomplishments are given up, she has nothing left for it but to amuse herself in the best way she can; and, becoming entirely frivolous, either declines altogether the fatigues of attending to her children, or, attending to them, has neither talents nor know- ledge to succeed; and therefore, here is a plain and fair answer to those who ask so triumphantly, why should a woman dedicate herself to this branch of knowledge? ■_! why should she be attached to such science ? — Because, by having gained information on these point*- she may inspire her son with valuable tastes, whie jnay abide by him through life, and car- ry him up tt all the sublimities of knowledge ; — be- cause she c _^not lay the foundation of a great charac- ter, if she ' . absorbed in frivolous amusements, nor inspire her child with noble desires, when a long course of trifling has destroyed the little talents which were left by a bad education. It is of great importance to a country, that there should be as many understandings as possible active- ly emp! >yed within it. Mankind are much happier for the discovery of barometers, thermometers, steam-en- gines, and all the innumerable inventions in the arts and sciences. We are every day and every hour reap- ing the benefit of such talent and ingenuity. The same observation is true of such works as those of Drydei Pope, Milton, and Shakspeare. Mankind are much happier that such individuals have lived and written ; they add every day to the stock of public enjoyment — and perpetually gladden and embellish life. Now, the number of those who exercise their underst i. tidings to any good purpose, is exactly in proport on to those who exercise it at all; but, as the matter stands at present, half the talent in the uni- verse runs to waste, and is totally unprofitable. It would hive been almost as well for the world, hither- to, that women, instead of possessing the capacities they do at present, should have been born wholly destitute of wit, genius, and every other attribute of mind, of which men make so eminent an use : and the ideas of use and possession are so united together, that, because it has been the custom in almost all countries to give to women a different and a worse educatlnri than to men, the notion has obtained that they d( not possess faculties which they do not culti- vate. Just as, in breaking up a common, it is some- times very difficult to make the poor believe it will carry corn, merely because they have been hitherto accustomed to see it produce nothing but weeds and grass — ihey very naturally mistake present condition for general nature. So completely have the talents of women been kept down, that there is scarcely a single work, either of reason or imagination, written by a woman, which is in general circulation either in the English, French, or Italian literature ; — scarcely one that has crept even into the ranks of our minor poets. If the possession of excellent talents is not a con- clusive reason why they should be improved, it at least amounts to a very strong presumption ; and, if it can be shown that Avomen may be trained to reason and imagine as well as man, the strongest reasons are certainly necessary to show us why we should not avail ourselves of such rich gifts of nature; and we have a right to call for the clear statement of those perils which make it necessary that such talent? should be totaUy extinguished, or, at most, very par tially drawn out. The burthen of proof does not lie with those who say, increase the quantity of talent in any country as much as possible — for such a proposi- tion is in conformity with every man's feelings : but it lies with those who say, take care to keep that un- derstanding weak and trifling, which nature has made capable of becoming strong and powerful. The para dox is with them, not with us. In all human reason- ing, knowledge must be taken for a good, till it can be shown to be an evil. But now, nature makes to us rich and magnificent presents ; and we say to her — You are too luxuriant and munificent — we must keep you under, and prune you ; — we have talents enough in the other half of the creation ; — and, if you will not stupefy and enfeeble the mind of women to our hands, we ourselves must expose them to a narcotic process, and educate away that fatal redundance with which the world is afflicted, and the order of sublunary things deranged. One of the greatest pleasures of life is conversation ; — and the pleasures of conversation are of course en- hanced by every increase of knowledge : not that we should meet together to talk of alkalis and angles, or to add to our stock of history and philology — though a little of these things is no bad ingredient in conver- sation ; but let the subject be what it may, there is always a prodigious difference between the conversa- tion of those who have been well educated and of those who have not enjoyed this advantage. Educa- tion gives fecundity of thought, copiousness of illus- tration, quickness, vigour, fancy, words, images, and illustrations ; — it decorates every common thing, and gives the power of trifling without being undignified and absurd. The subjects themselves may not be wanted upon which the talents of an educated man have been exercised; but there is always a demand for those talents which his education has rendered strong and quick. Now, really, nothing can be fur- ther from our intention than to say any thing rude and unpleasant ; but we must be excused for obser- ving that it is not now a very common thing to be interested by the variety and extent of female know- ledge, but it is a very common thing to lament that the finest faculties in the world have been confined to trifles utterly unworthy of their richness and their strength. The pursuit of knowledge is the most innocent and interesting occupation which can be given to the female sex ; nor can there be a better method of check- ing a spirit of dissipation than by diffusing a taste for literature. The way to attack vice, is by setting up something else against it. Give to women, in early youth, something to acquire, of sufficient in- terest and importance to command the application of their mature faculties, and to excite their perse- verance in future life ; — teach them that happiness is to be derived from the acquisition of knowledge, as well as the gratification of vanity : and you will raise up a much more formidable barrier against dissi- pation than an host of exhortations and invectives can supply. It sometimes happens that an unfortunate man gets drunk with very bad wine, — not to gratify his palate, but to forget his cares : he does not set any value on what he receives, but on account of what it excludes : — it keeps out something worse than itself. Now, though it were denied that the acquisition of serious knowledge is of itself important to a woman, still it prevents a taste for silly and pernicious works of ima- gination ; it keeps away the horrid trash of novels ; and, in lieu of that eagerness for emotion and adven- ture which books of that sort inspire, promotes a calm and steady temperament of mind. A man Avho deserves such a piece of good fortune, may generally find an excellent companion for all the vicissitudes of life ; but it is not so easy to find a com- panion for his understanding, who has similar pursuits with himself, or who can comprehend the pleasure he derives from them. We really see no reason why it should not be otherwise ; nor comprehend how the pleasures of domestic life can be promoted by dimi- PUBLIC SCHOOLS. 59 aishing the number of subjects in which persons who are to spend their lives together take a common in- terest. One of the most agreeable consequences of know- ledge is the respect and importance which it commu- nicates to old age. Men rise in character often as they increase in years ; — they are venerable from what they have acquired, and pleasing from what they can impart. If they outlive their faculties, the mere frame itself is respected for what it once contained ; but women (such is their unfortunate style of educa- tion) hazard every thing upon one cast of the die ;— ^ when youth is gone, all is gone. No human creature gives his admiration for nothing : either the eye must be charmed, or the understanding gratified. A wo- man must talk wisely or look well. Every human being must put up with the coldest civility, who has neither the charms of youth nor the wisdom of age. Neither is there the slightest commiseration for de- cayed accomplishments ; — no man mourns over the fragments of a dancer, or drops a tear on the relics of musical skill. They are flowers destined to perish ; but the decay of great talents is always the subject of solemn pity ; and, even when their last memorial is over, their ruins and vestiges are regarded with pious affection. There is no connection between the ignorance in which women are kept, and the preservation of moral and religious principle ; and yet certainly there is, in the minds of some timid and respectable persons, a vague, indefinite dread of knowledge, as if it were capable of producing these effects. It might almost be supposed, from the dread which the propagation of knowledge has excited, that there was some great secret which was to be kept in impenetrable obscurity, — that all moral rules were a species of delusion and imposture, the detection of which, by the improve- ment of the understanding, would be attended with the most fatal consequences to all, and particularly to women. If we could possibly understand what these great secrets were, we might perhaps be disposed to concur in their preservation ; but believing that all the salutary rules which are imposed on women are the result of true wisdom, and productive of the greatest happiness, we cannot understand how they are to become less sensible of this truth in proportion as their power of discovering truth in general is in- creased, and the habit of viewing questions with ac- curacy and comprehension established by education. There are men, indeed, who are always exclaiming against every species of power, because it is connect- ed Avith danger : their dread of abuses is so much stronger than their admiration of uses, that they would cheerfully give up the use of fire, gunpowder, and printing, to be freed from robbers, incendiaries, and libels. It is true, that every increase of know- ledge may possibly render depravity more depraved, as well as it may increase the strength of virtue. It is in itself only power ; and its value depends on its application. But, trust to the natural love of good where there is no temptation to be bad — it operates nowhere more forcibly than in education. No man, whether he be tutor, guardian, or friend, ever con- tents himself with infusing the mere ability to ac- quire ; but giving the power, he gives with it a taste for the wise and rational exercise of that power ; so that an educated person is not only one with stronger and better faculties than others, but with a more use- ful propensity — a disposition better cultivated — and associations of a higher and more important class. In short, and to recapitulate the main points upon which we have insisted : — Why the disproportion in knowledge between the two sexes should be so great, when the inequality in natural talents is so small ; or why the understanding of women should be lavished upon trifles, when nature has made it capable of high- er and better things, we profess ourselves not able to understand. Thf affectation charged upon female knowledge is best cured by making that knowledge more general : and the economy devolved upon women is best secured by the ruin, disgrace, and inconveni- ence which proceeds from neglecting it. For the care of children nature has made a direct and powerful provision ; and the gentleness and elegance of women is the natural consequence of that desire to please, which is productive of the greatest part of civilization and refinement, and which rests upon a foundation too deep to be shaken by any such modifications in education as we have proposed. If you educate wo- men to attend to dignified and important subjects, you are multiplying, beyond measure, the chances of human improvement, by preparing and medicating those early impressions, which always come from the mother ; and which, in a great majority of instances, are quite decisive of character and genius. Nor is it only in the business of education that women would influence the destiny of men. If women know more, men must learn more — for ignorance would then be shameful — and it would become the fashion to be in- structed. The instruction of women improves the stock of national talents, and employs more minds for the instruction and amusement of the world ; — it in- creases the pleasures of society, by multiplying the topics upon which the two sexes take a common inter- est ; and makes marriage an intercourse of understand- ing as well as of affection, by giving dignity and importance to the female character. The education of women favours public morals ; it provides for every season of life, as well as for the brightest and the best ; and leaves a Avoman when she is stricken by the hand of time, not as she now is, destitute of every thing, and neglected by all ; but with the full power and the splendid attractions of knowledge, — diffusing the ele- gant pleasures of polite literature, and receiving the just homage of learned and accomplished men. PUBLIC SCHOOLS. (Edinburgh Review, 1810.) 8vo. Remarks on the System of Education in Public Schools, Hatchard. London, 1809. There is a set of well-dressed, prosperous gentle- men who assemble daily at Mr. Hatchard's shop ; — clean, civil personages, well in with people in power, — delighted with every existing institution — and al- most with every existing circumstance : — and, every now and then, one of these personages writes a little book ; — and the rest praise that little book — expecting to be praised, in their turn, for their own little books : — and of these little books, thus written by these clean, civil personages, so expecting to be praised, the pamphlet before us appears to be one. The subject of it is the advantage of public schools ; and the author, very creditably to himself, ridicules the absurd clamour, first set on foot by Dr. Rennel, of the irreligious tendency of public schools : he then proceeds to an investigation of the effects which pub- lic schools may produce upon the moral character ; and here the subject becomes more difficult, and the pamphlet worse. In arguing any large or general question, it is of in- finite importance to attend to the first feelings which the mention of the topic has a tendency to excite ; and the name of a public school brings with it immediately the idea of brilliant classical attainments ; but, upon the importance of these studies, we are not now offer- ing any opinion. The only points for consideration are, whether boys are put in the way of becoming good and wise men by these schools ; and whether they actually gather there those attainments which it pleases mankind, for the time being, to consider as valuable, and to decorate by the name of learning. By a public school, we mean any endowed place of education, of old standing, to which the sons of gen- tlemen resort in considerable numbers, and where they continue to reside, from eight or nine, to eighteen years of age. We do not give this as a definition which would have satisfied Porphyry or Duns-Scotus, but as one sufficiently accurate for our purpose. The characteristic features of these schools are, their an- tiquity, the numbers, and the ages of the young people who are educated at them. We beg leave, however, to premise, that we have not the slightest intention of insinuating any thing to the disparagement of the present discipline or present rulers of these schools, WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. as compared with other times and other men: we have no reason whatever to doubt that they are as ably governed at this as they have been at any pre- ceding period. Whatever objections we may have to these institutions, they are to faults, not depending on present administration, but upon original con- struction.* At a public school (for such is the system estab- lished by immemorial custom), every boy is alter- nately tyrant and slave. The power which the elder part of these communities exercises over the younger is exceedingly great — very difficult to be controlled — and accompanied, not unfrequently, with crueltjfand caprice. It is the common law of the place, that the young should be implicitly obedient to the elder boys ; and this obedience resembles more the submission of a slave to his master, or of a sailor to his captain, than the common and natural deference which would always be shown by one boy to another a few years older than himself. Now, this system we cannot help considering as an evil, — because it inflicts upon boys, for two or three years of their lives, many pain- ful hardships, and much unpleasant servitude. These sufferings might perhaps be of some use in military schools ; but, to give to a boy the habit of enduring privations to which he will never again be called upon to submit — to inure him to pains which he will never again feel — and to subject him to the privation of com- forts with which he will always hi future abound — is surely not a very useful and valuable severity in edu- cation. It is not the life in miniature which he is to lead hereafter — nor does it bear any relation to it : — he will never again be subjected to so much insolence and caprice ; nor ever, in all human probability, called upon to make so many sacrifices. The servile obedi- ence which it teaches might be useful to a menial domestic ; or the habits of enterprise which it en- courages prove of importance to a military partisan ; but we cannot see what bearing it has upon the calm, regular, civil life, which the sons of gentlemen, des- tined to opulent idleness, or to any of the three learned professions, are destined to lead. Such a system makes many boys very miserable ; and produces those bad effects upon the temper and disposition, which unjust suffering always does produce ; — but what good it does we are much at a loss to conceive. Reasonable obedience is extremely useful in forming the disposi- tion. Submission to tyranny lays the foundation of .hatred, suspicion, cunning, and a variety of odious passions. We are convinced that those young people will turn out to be the best men, who have been guarded most effectually in their childhood, from every species of useless vexation ; and experienced, in the greatest degree, the blessings of a wise and rational indulgence. But even if these effects upon future character are not produced, still four or five years in childhood make a very considerable period of human existence ; and it is by no means a trifling considera- tion whether they are passed happily or unhappily. The wretchedness of school tyranny is trifling enough to a man who only contemplates it in ease of body and tranquillity of mind, through the medium of twenty intervening years ; but it is quite as real, and quite as acute, while it lasts, as any of the sufferings of mature life : and the utility of these sufferings, or the price paid in compensation for them, should be clearly made out to a conscientious parent before he consents to expose his children to them. This system also gives to the elder boys an absurd and pernicious opinion of their own importance, which is often with difficulty effaced by a considerable com- merce with the world. The head of a public school is generally a very conceited young man, utterly ignorant of his own dimensions) and losing all that habit of * A public school is thought to be the best cure for the inso- lence of youthful aristocracy. This insolence, however, is not a little increased by the homage of masters, and would soon meet with its natural check in the wojld. There can be no occasion to bring five hundred boys together to teach a young nobleman that proper demeanor which lie would learn so much better from the'first English gentleman whom he might think proper to insult. conciliation towards others, and that anxiety for self improvement, which result from the natural modesty of youth. Nor is this conceit very easily and speedily gotten rid of; — we have seen (if we mistake not) pub- he school importance lasting through the half of after fife, strutting in lawn, swelling in ermine, and dis- playing itself, both ridiculously and offensively, in the haunts and business of bearded men. There is a manliness in the athletic exercises ot public schools which is as seductive to the imagina- tion as it is utterly unimportant in itself. Of what importance is it in after fife whether a boy can play well or ill at cricket ; or row a boat with the skill and precision of a waterman? If our young lords and esquires were hereafter to wrestle together' in public, or the gentlemen of the Bar to exhibit Olympic games in Hilary Term, the glory attached to these exercises at public schools would be rational and important. But of what use is the body of an athlete, when we have good laws over our heads, — or when a pistol, a postchaise, or a porter, can be hired for a few shil- lings ? A gentleman does nothing but ride or walk ; and yet such a ridiculous stress is laid upon the man- liness of the exercises customary at public schools — exercises hi which the greatest blockheads commonly excel the most — which often render habits of idleness inveterate — and often lead to foolish expense and dis- sipation at a more advanced period of life. One of the supposed advantages of a public school is the greater knowledge of the world which a boy is considered to derive from those situations ; but if, by a knowledge of the world, is meant a knowledge of the forms and manners which are found to be the most pleasing and useful in the world, a boy from a public school is almost always extremely deficient in these particulars ; and his sister, Who has remained at home at the apron-strings of her mother, is very much his superior in the science of manners. It is probably true, that a boy at a public school has made more ob- servations on human character, because he has had more opportunities of observing than have been en- joyed by young persons educated either at home or at private schools : but this little advance gained at a public school is so soon overtaken at college or in the world, that, to have made it, is of the least possible consequence, and utterly undeserving of any risk in- curred in the acquisition. Is it any injury to a man of thirty or thirty-five years of age — to a learned Ser- jeant or venerable dean — that at eighteen they did not know so much of the world as some other boys of the same standing? They have probably escaped the arrogant character so often attendant upon this trifling superiority ; nor is there much chance that they have ever fallen into the common and youthful error of mistaking a premature initiation into vice for a know- ledge of the ways of mankind ; and, in addition to these salutary exemptions, a winter in London brings it all to a level ; and offers to every novice the ad- vantages which are supposed to be derived from this precocity of confidence and polish. According to the genera 1 prejudice hi favour of pub- lic schools, it would be thought quite as absurd an^ superflous to enumerate the illustrious characters who have been bred at our three great seminaries of this description, as it would be to descant upon the illus- trious characters who have passsed in and out of London over our three great bridges. Almost eve- ry conspicuous person is supposed to have been educated at public schools ; and there are scarce- ly any means (as it is imagined) of making an actual Comparison ; and yet, great as the rage is, and long has been, for public schools, it is very remark- able, that the most eminent men in every art and science have not been educated at public schools ; and this is true, even if we include, in the term of public schools, not only Eton, Winchester, and Westminster, but the Charter-House, St. Paul's School, Merchant Tailors', Rugby, and every school m England, at all conducted upon the plan of the three first. The great schools of Scotland we do not call public schools ; be- cause, in these, the mixture of domestic life gives to them a widely different character. Spenser, Pope, PUBLIG SCHOOLS. 61 Shakspeare, Butler, Rochester, Spratt, Parnell, Garth, Congreve, Gay, Swift, Thompson, Shenstone, Aken- side, Goldsmith, Samuel Johnson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Sir Philip Sydney, Savage, Arbuthnot, and Burns, among the poets, were not educated in the system of English schools. Sir Isaac Newton, Maclaurin, Wallis, Hamstead, Saunderson, Simpson, and Napier, among men of science, were not educated at public schools. The three best historians that the English language has produced, Clarendon, Hume, and Robertson, were not educated at public schools. Public schools have done little in England for the fine arts — as in the examples of Inigo Jones, Vanbrugh, Reynolds, Gainsborough, Garrick, &c. The great medical writer and discoverers in Great Britain, Harvey, Cheselden, Hunter, Jenner, Meade, Brown,' and Cullen, were not educated at public schools. Of the great writers on morals and meta- physics, it was not the system of public schools which oroduced Bacon, Shaftesbury, Hobbes, Berkeley, But- ter, Hume, Hartley, or Dugald Stewart. The greatest discoverers in chemistry have not been brought up at public schools ; — we mean Dr. Priestley, Dr. Black, and Mr. Davy. The only Englishmen who have evinced a remarkable genius, in modern times, for the art of war,— the Duke of Marlborough, Lord Peter- borough, General Wolfe, and Lord Clive, were all trained in private schools. So were Lord Coke, Sir Matthew Hale, and Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, and Chief Justice Holt, among the lawyers. So also, among statesmen, were Lord Burleigh, Walsingham, the Earl of Strafford, Thurloe, Cromwell, Hampden, Lord Clarendon, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sydney, Russel, Sir W. Temple, Lord Somers, Burke, Sheridan, Pitt. In addition to this list, we must not forget the name, of such eminent scholars and men of letters, as Cud- worth, Chillingworth, Tillotson, Archbishop King, Selden, Conyers, Middleton, Bentley, Sir Thomas More, Cardinal Wolsey, Bishops Sherlock and Wil- kins, Jeremy Taylor, Isaac Hooker, Bishops Usher, Stillingfleet, and Spelman, Dr. Samuel Clarke, Bishop Hoadley, and Dr. Lardner. N^j must it be forgotten, in this examination, that none of the conspicious writers upon political economy which this country has as yet produced, have been brought up in public schools. If it be urged that public schools have only assumed their present character within this last cen- tury, or half century, and that what are now called public schools partook, before this period, of the nature of private schools, there must then be added to our lists the names of Milton, Dryden, Addison, &c. &c. : and it will follow, that the English have done almost all that they have done in the arts and sciences, without the aid of that system of education to which they are now so much attached. Ample as this cata- logue of celebrated names already is, it would be easy to^double it ; yet, as it stands, it is obviously sufficient to show that great eminence may be attained in any line of fame without the aid of public schools. Some, more striking inferences might perhaps be drawn from it; but we content ourselves with the simple fact. The most important peculiarity in the constitution of a public school is its numbers, which are so great, that a close inspection of the master into the studies and conduct of each individual is quite impossible. We must be allowed to doubt, whether such an ar- rangement is favourable either to literature or morals. Upon this system, a boy is left almost entirely to himself, to impress upon his own mind, as well as he can, the distant advantages of knowledge, and to with- stand, from his own innate resolution, the examples and the seductions of idleness. A firm character sur- vives this brave neglect ; and very exalted talents may sometimes remedy it by subsequent diligence : but schools are not made for a few youths of pre-eminent talents, and strong characters ; such prizes can, of course, be drawn but by a very few parents. The best school is that which is best accommodated to the *re3tP5t variety of characters, and which embraces xhe greatest number of cases. It cannot be the main object of education to Binder the splendid more splen- did, and to lavish care upon those who would almost thrive without any care at all. A public school does this effectually; but it commonly leaves the idle almost as idle, and the dull almost as dull, as it found them. It disdains the tedious cultivation of those middling talents of which only the great mass of human beings are possessed. When a strong desire of improvement exists, it is encouraged, but no pains are taken to inspire it. A boy is cast in among five or six hundred other boys, and is left to form his own character ; — if his love of knowledge survives this severe trial, it, in general, carries him very far : and, upon the same principle, a savage, who grows up to manhood, is, in general, well made, and free from all bodily defects ; not because the severities of such a state are favourable to animal life, but because they are so much the reverse, that none but the strongest can survive them. A few boys are incorrigibly idle and a few incorrigibly eager for knowledge ; but the great mass are in a state of doubt and fluctuation and they come to school for the express purpose, noj of being left to themselves — for that could be dom any where — but that their wavering tastes and pro- pensities should be decided by the intervention of a master. In a forest, or public school for oaks and elms, the trees are left to themselves ; the strong plants live, and the weak ones die : the towering oak that remains is admired; the saplings that perish around it are cast into the flames and forgotten. But it is not surely to the vegetable struggle of a forest, or the hasty glance of a forester^ that a botanist would commit a favourite plant ; he would naturally seek for it a situation of less hazard, and a cultivator whose limited occupations would enable him to give to it a reasonable share of his time and attention. The very meaning of education seems to us to be, that the old should teach the young, and the wise direct the weak ; that a man who professes to instruct, should get among his pupils, study their characters, gain their affections, and form their inclinations and aversions. In a public school, the numbers render this impossible ; it is im- possible that sufficient time should be found for this useful and affectionate interference. Boys, therefore, are left to their own crude conceptions and ill-formed propensities ; and this neglect is called a spirited and manly education. In by far the greatest number of cases, we cannot think public schools favourable to the cultivation of knowledge ; and we have equally strong doubts if they be so to the cultivation of morals, though we admit, that, upon this point, the most striking arguments have been produced in their favour. It is contended by the friends to public schools, that every person, before he comes to man's estate, must run through a certain career of dissipation; and if that career is, by the means of a private education, deferred to a more advanced period of life, it will only be begun with more eagerness, and pursued intomore blameable excess. The time must, of course, come when every man must be his own master ; when his conduct can be no longer regulated by the watchful superintendence of another, but must be guided by his own discretion. Emancipation must come at last ; and we admit, that the object to be aimed at is, that such emancipation should be gradual, and not prema- ture. Upon this very invidious point of the discus- sion, we rather wish to avoid offering any opinion. The manners of great schools vary considerably from time to time ; and what may have been true many years ago, is very possibly not true at the present period. In this instance, every parent must be go- verned by his own observations and means of informa- tion. If the license which prevails at public schools is only a fair increase of liberty, proportionate to ad- vancing age, and calculated to prevent the bad effects of a sudden transition from tutelary thraldom to per- fect self-government, it is certainly a good rather than an evil. If, on the contrary, there exists in these places of education a system of premature debauchery, and if they only prevent men from being corrupted by the world, by corrupting them before their entry into the world, they can then only be looked upon as evils of the greatest magnitude, however they may be sanctioned by opinion, or rendered familiar to us by habit. The vital and essential part of a school is the mas- ter ; but, at a public school, no boy, or, at the best, only a very few, can see enough of him to derive any considerable benefit from his character, manners, and information. It is certainly of eminent use, particu- larly to a young man of rank, that he should have lived among boys ; but it is only so when they are all moderately watched by some superior understanding. The morality of boys is generally very imperfect ; their notions of honour extremely mistaken ; and their objects of ambition frequently very absurd. The pro- bability then is, that the kind of discipline they exer- cise over each other will produce (when left to itself) a great deal of mischief; and yet this is the discip- line to which every child at a public school is not only necessarily exposed, but principally confined. Our objection (we again repeat) is not to the interference of boys in the formation of the character of boys ; their character, we are persuaded, will be very im- perfectly formed without their assistance ; but our objection is to that almost exclusive agency which they exercise in public schools. After having said so much in opposition to the ge- neral prejudice in favour of public schools, we may be expected to state what species of school we think preferable to them ; for if public schools, with all their disadvantagas, are the best that can actually be found, or easily attained, the objections to them are certain- ly made to very little purpose. We have no hesitation, however, in saying, that that education seems to us to be the best which mingles a domestic with a school life ; and which gives to a youth the advantage which is to be derived from the learning of a master, and the emulation which results from the society of other boys, together with the affectionate vigilance which he must experi- ence in the house of his parents. But where this species of education, from peculiarity of circumstances or situation, is not attainable, we are disposed to think a society of twenty or thirty boys, under the guidance of a learned man, and, above all, of a man of good sense, to be a seminary the best adapted for the edu- cation of youth. The numbers are sufficient to excite a considerable degree of emulation, to give to a boy some insight into the diversities of the human cha- racter, and to subject him to the observation and control of his superiors. It by no means follows, that a judicious man should always interfere with his au- thority and advice because he has always the means ; ne may connive at many things which he cannot ap- prove, and suffer some little failures to proceed to a certain extent, which, if indulged in wider limits, would be attended with irretrievable mischief; he will be aware, that his object is to fit his pupil for the world ; that constant control is a very bad prepara- tion for complete emancipation from all control ; that it is not bad policy to expose a young man, under the eye of superior wisdom, to some of those dangers which will assail him hereafter in greater number, and in greater strength — when he has only his own resources to depend upon. A private education, con- ducted upon these principles, is not calculated*to gra- tify quickly the vanity of a parent who is blest with a child of strong character and pre-eminent abilities ; to be the first scholar of an obscure master, at an ob- scure place, is no very splendid distinction ; nor does it afford that opportunity, of which so many parents are desirous, of forming great connections for their children: but if the object be, to induce the young to love knowledge and virtue, we are inclined to suspect, that, for the average of human talents and characters, these are the situations in which such tastes will be the most effectually formed. WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. - TOLERATION. (Edinburgh Review, 1811.) Hints on Toleration, in Five Essays, fyc. svggested for the Consideration of Lord Viscount Sidmouth, and the Dissent- ers. By Philagath arches. London. 1310. If a prudent man sees a child playing with a porce- lain cup of great value, he takes the vessel out of his hand, pats him on the head, tells him his mamma will be sorry if it is broken, and gently cheats him into the use of some less precious substitute. Why will Lord Sidmouth meddle with the Toleration Act, when there are so many other subjects in which his abilities might be so eminently useful — when enclosure bills are drawn up with such scandalous negligence — turnpike roads so shamefully neglected — and public conveyances illegiti- mately loaded in the face of day, and in defiance of the wisest legislative provisions ? We confess our trepi- dation at seeing the Toleration Act in the hands of Lord Sidmouth ; and should be very glad if it were fairly back in the statute book, and the sedulity of this well-meaning nobleman diverted into another channel. The alarm and suspicion of the Dissenters upon these measures are wise and rational. They are right to consider the Toleration Act as their palladium ; and they may be certain that in this country there is always a strong party ready, not only to prevent the further extension of tolerant principles, but to abridge (if they dared) their present operation within the narrowest limits. Whoever makes this attempt, will be sure to make it under professions of the most earnest regard for mildness and toleration, and with the strongest declarations of respect for King William, the Revolu- tion, and the principles which seated the House of Brunswick on the fhrone of these realms; and then will follow the clauses for whipping Dissenters, im- prisoning preachers, and subjecting them to rigid qualifications, &c. &c. &c. The infringement on the militia acts is a mere pretence. The real object is to diminish the number of Dissenters from the Church of England, by abridging the liberties and privileges they now possess. This is the project which we shall examine, for we sinceijely believe it to be the project in agitation. The modem which it is proposed to attack the Dissenters is, first, by exacting greater qualifica- tions in their teachers ; next, by preventing the inter- change or itinerancy of preachers, and fixing them to one spot. It can never, we presume, be intended to subject dissenting ministers to any kind of theological examina- tion. A teacher examined in doctrinal opinions, by another teacher who differs from him, is so very absurd a project, that we entirely acquit Lord Sidmouth of any intention of this sort. We rather presume his lordship to mean, that a man who professes to teach his fellow creatures, should at least have made some progress in human learning ; that he should not be wholly without education ; that he should be able at least to read and write. If the test is of this very ordinary nature, it can scarcely exclude many teachers of religion ; and it was hardly worth while, for the very insignificant diminution of numbers which this must occasion to the dissenting clergy, to have raised all the alarm which this attack upon the Toleration Act has occasioned. But Avithoul any reference to the magnitude of the effects, is the principle right ? or, What is the meaning of religious toleration? That a man should hold,, without pain or penalty, any religious opinions — and '•■ choose for his instruction, in the business of salvation, any guide whom he pleases ; care being taken that the teacher and the doctrine injure neither the policy nor the morals of the country. We maintain that perfect I religious toleration applies as much to the teacher as to the thing taught ; and that it is quite as intolerant to make a man hear Thomas, who wants to hear John, as it would be to make a man profess Arminian, who wished to profess Calvinistical principles. What right has any government to dictate to any man who shall guide him to heaven, any more than it has to persecute the religious tenets by which he hopes to arrive there ? You believe that the heretic professes doctrines utterly, incompatible with the true spirit of the gospel ; first I you burnt him for this— then you whipped him — then TOLERATION. as you fined him — then you put him in prison. All this did no good; and for these hundred years last past, you have let him alone. The heresy is now firmly protected by law ; and you know is must be preached : What matters it then, who preaches it ? If the evil must be communicated, the organ and instrument through which it is communicated cannot be of much consequence. It is true, this kind of persecution against persons, has not befen quite so much tried as the other against doctrines ; but the folly and inexpe- diency of it rest precisely upon the same grounds. Would it not be a singular thing if the friends of the Church of England were to make the most strenuous efforts to render their enemies eloquent and learned ? and to found places of education for dissenters ? But, if their learning would not be a good, why is their ig- norance an evil ? — unless it be necessarily supposed, that all increase of learning must bring men over to the Church of England ; in which supposition the Scot- tish and Catholic universities, and the college at Hack- ney, would hardly acquiesce. Ignorance surely ma- tures and quickens the progress, by insuring the dis- solution of absurdity. Rational and learned dissenters remain : religious mobs, under some ignorant fanatic of the day, become foolish overmuch — dissolve, and return to the Church. The Unitarian, who reads and writes, gets some sort of discipline, and returns no more What connection is there (as Lord Sidmouth's plan assumes) between the zeal and piety required for re- ligious instruction, and the common attainments of literature? But if knowledge and education are re- quired for religious instruction, why be content with the common elements of learning ? why not require higher attainments in dissenting candidates for orders ; and examine them in the languages in which the books of their religion are conveyed ? A dissenting minister, of vulgar aspect and homely appearance, declares that he entered into that holy office because he felt a call ; and a clergyman of the Establishment smiles at him for the declaration. But it should be remembered, that no minister of the Esta- blishment is admitted into orders, before he has been expressly interrogated by the bishop whether he feels himself called to that sacred office. The doctrine of calling, or inward feeling, is quite orthodox in the En- glish Church; and, in arguing this subject in parlia- ment, it will hardly be contended, that the Episcopa- lian only is the judge when that call is genuine, and when it is only imaginary. The attempt at making the dissenting clergy sta- tionary, and persecuting their circulation, appears to us quite as unjust and inexpedient as the other mea- sure of qualifications. It appears a gross inconsistency to say, ' I admit that what you are doing is legal — but you must not do it thoroughly and effectually. I allow you to propagate your heresy, but I object to all means of propagating it which appear to be useful and effective. 7 If there are any other grounds upon which the circulation of the dissenting clergy is objected to, let these grounds be stated and examined ; but to ob- ject to their circulation merely because it is the best method of effecting th% object which you allow them to effect, does appear to be rather unnatural and in- consistent. It is presumed, in this argument, that the only rea- son urged for the prevention of itinerant preachers is, the increase of heresy ; for if heresy is not increased by it, it must be immaterial to the feelings of Lord Sidmouth, and of the imperial parliament, whether Mr. ShufHebottom preaches at Bungay, and Mr.Ringle- tub at Ipswich ; or whether an artful vicissitude is adopted, and the order of insane predication reversed. But, svpposing all this new interference to be just, what good will it do ? You find a dissenting preacher, whom you have prohibited, still continuing to preach, or preaching at Ealing when he ought to preach at Acton : his number is taken, and the next morning he is summoned. Is it believed that this description of persons can be put down by fine and imprisonment ? His fine is paid tor him, and he returns from imprison- ment ten times as much sought after and as popular as he was before. This is a receipt for making a stu- pid preacher popular, and a popular preacher more popular, but can have no possible tendency to re vent the mischief against which it is levelled. It. is pre- cisely the old history of persecution against opinions turned into a persecution against persons. The prisons will be filled — the enemies of the Church made ene- mies of the state also — and the Methodists rendered ten times more actively mad than they are at present. This is the direct and obvious tendency of Lord Sid- mouth's plan. Nothing dies so hard and rallies so often as intole- rance. The fires are put out, and no living nostril has scented the nidor of a human creature roasted for faith ; then, after this, the prison-doors were got open, and the chains knocked off; and now Lord Sidmouth only begs that men who disagree with him in. reli- gious opinions maybe deprived of all civil offices, and not be allowed to hear the preachers they like best. Chains and whips, he would not hear of; bu.; these mild gratifications of his bill every orthodox mind is surely entitled to. The hardship would indeed be great if a churchman were deprived of the amusement of putting a dissenting parson in prison. We are con- vinced Lord Sidmouth is a very amiable and well-in- tentioned man : his error is not the error of his heart, but of his' time, above which few men ever rise. It is the error of some four or five hundred thousand En- glish gentlemen, Of decent education and worthy cha- racters, who conscientiously believe that they are punishing, and continuing incapacities, for the good of the state ; while they are, in fact (though without knowing it) only gratifying that insolence, hatred, and revenge, which all human beings are unfortuna :ely so ready to feel against those who will not conform to their own sentiments. But, instead of making the dissenting churches po- pular, why not make the English church more popular, and raise the English clergy to the privileges of the Dissenters ? In any parish of England, any layman or clergyman, by paying sixpence, can open a place of worship, — provided it be not the worship of the Church of England. If he wishes to attack the doctrines of the bishop or the incumbent, he is not compelled to ask the consent of any person ; but if, by any evil chance, he should be persuaded of the truth of those doctrines, and build a chapel or mount a pulpit to sup- port them, he is instantly put in the spiritual court ; for the regular incumbent, who has a legal monopoly of this doctrine, does not suffer any interloper; and without his consent, it is illegal to preach the doc- trines of the church within his precincts.* Now this appears to us a great and manifest absurdity, and a dis- advantage against the Established Church which very few establishments could bear. »The persons who preach and who build chapels, or for whom cha- pels are built, among the Dissenters, are active cle- * It might be supposed that the general interests of the Church would outweigh the particular interests of the rector; and that any clergyman would be glad to see places of wor- ship opened within his parish for the doctrines of the Esta- blished Church. The fact, however, is exactly the reverse. It is scarcely possible to obtain permission from the esta- blished clergyman of the parish to open a chapel there ; and when it is granted, it is granted upon very hard and interested conditions. The parishes of St. George— of St. James— of Mary-le-bone — and of St. Ann's, in London — may, in the pa- rish churches, chapels of ease, and mercenary chapels, con- tain, perhaps, one-hundredth part of their Episcopalian inha- bitants. Let the rectors, lay and clerical, meet toget! }f, and give notice that any clergyman of the Church of England, approved by the bishop, may preach there ; and we will ven- ture to say that places of worship capable of containing 20,000 persons would be built within ten years. But, in these cases, the interest of the rector and of the Establishment is not the same. A chapel belonging to the Swedenborgians, or Method- ists of the New Jerusalem, was offered, two or three years since, in London, to a clergyman of the Establishment. The proprietor was tired of his irrational tenants, and wished for better doctrine. The rector (since a dignitary) with every possible compliment to the fitness of the person in question, positively refused the application ; and the church remains in the hands of the Methodists. No particular blame is intended, by this anecdote, against the individual rector. He acted as many have done before and since ; but the incumbent clergy- man ought to possess no such power. It is his interest, but not the interest of the Establishment.. 04 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. ver persons, with considerable talents for that kind of employment. These talents have, with them, their free and unbounded scope ; while in the Eng- lish Church tbey are wholly extinguished and de- stroyed. Till this evil is corrected, the church con- tends with fearful odds against its opponents. On the one side, any man who can command the attention of a congregation — to whom nature has given the animal and intellectual qualifications of a preacher — such a man is the member of every corporation ; — all impedi- ments are removed : — there is not a single position in Great Britain which he may not take, provided he is hostile to the Established Church. In the other case, if the English Church were to breed up a Massillon or a Bourdaioue, he finds every place occupied ; and eve- ry where a regular and respectable clergyman ready to put him in the spiritual court, if he attracts within his precincts, any attention to the doctrines and wor- ship of the Established Church. The necessity of having the Bishop's consent would prevent any improper person from preaching. That consent should be withheld, not capriciously, but for good and lawful cause to be assigned. The profits of an incumbent proceed from fixed or voluntary contributions. The fixed could not be affect- ed ; and the voluntary ought to vary according to the exertions of the incumbent and the good will of the parishioners ; but, if this is wrong, pecuniary compen- sation might be made (at the discretion of the ordina- ry, from the supernumerary to the regular clergyman.* Such a plan, it is true, would make the Church of Eng- land more popular in its nature ; and it ought to be made more popular, or it will not endure for another half century. There are two methods ; the Church must be made more popular or the Dissenters less so. To effect the latter object by force and restriction is unjust and impossible. The only remedy seems to be, to grant to the church the same privileges which are enjoyed by the Dissenters, and to excite in one party, that competition of talent which is of such palpable advantage to the other. A remedy suggested by some well-wishers to the Church, is the appointment of men to benefices who have talents for advancing the interests of religion ; but till each particular patron can be persuaded to care more for the general good of the Church than for the particular good of the person whom he patronizes, little expectation of improvement can be derived from this quarter. The competition between the Established clergy, to which this method would give birth, would throw the incumbent in the back-groyund only when he was unfit to stand forward, — immoral, negligent, or stupid. His income would still remain ; and if his influence were superseded by a man of better qualities and attain- ments, the general good of the Establishment would be consulted by the change. The beneficed clergyman would always come to the contest with great advan- tages; and his deficiencies must be very great indeed, if he lost the esteem of his parishioners. But the con- test would rarely or ever take place, where the friends of the Establishment were not numerous enough for all. At present, the selfish incumbent, who cannot accom- modate the fiftieth part of his parishioners, is deter- mined that no one else shall do it for him. It is in such situations that the benefit to the establishment would be greatest, and the injury to the appointed minister none at all. We beg of men of sense to reflect, that the question is not whether they wish the English Church to stand as it now is, but whether the English Church can stand as it now is ; and whether the moderate activity here recommented is not themininum of exertion necessary for its preservation. At the same time we hope no- body will rate our sagacity so very low as to imagine we have much hope that any measure of the kind will ever be adopted. All establishments die of dignity. They are too proud to think themselves ill, and to take a little physic. To show that we have not misstated the obstinacy or the conscience of sectaries, and the spirit with * All this has been placed on a better footing. which they will meet the regulations of Lord Sid mouth, we will lay before our readers the sentiments of Philagatharches — a stern subacid Dissenter. 'I shall not en.ter into a comprehensive discussion of the nature of a call to the ministerial office; but deduce my pro- position from a sentiment admitted equally by conformists and non-conformists. It is essential to the nature of a call to preach "that a man be moved by the Holy Ghost to enter upon the work of the ministry :"'-and if the Spirit of God act pow- erfully upon his heart to constrain him to appear as a public teacher of religion, who shall command him to desist ? We have seen that the sanction of the magistrate can give no authority to preach the gospel; and if he were to forbid our exertions, we must persist in the work: we dare not relinquish a task that God has required us to perform; we cannot keep our consciences in peace, if our lips are closed in silence, while the Holy Ghost is moving our hearts to proclaim the tidings of salvation: "Yea, woe is unto me," saith St. Paul, "if I preach not the gospel." Thus, when the Jewish priests had taken Peter and John into custody, and after examining them con- cerning their doctrine, "commanded them not to speak at all, nor to teach in the name of Jesus," these apostolical champions of the cross undauntedly replied, "Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye; for wc cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard." Thus, also, in our day, when the Holy Ghost excites a man to preach the gospel to his fellow sinners, his message is sanctioned by an authority which is " far above all principality and power ; and consequently, neither needs the approbation of subordinate rulers, nor admits of revocation by their countermanding edicts. '3dly. He who receives a license should not expect to derive from it a testimony of qualification to preach. 'It would be grossly absurd to seek a testimony of this de- scription from any single individual, even though he were an experienced veteran in the service of Christ; for all are fallible; and under some unfavourable prepossession, even the wisest Of the best of men might give an erroneous decision upon the case. But this observation will gain additional force when we suppose the power of judging transferred to the person of the magistrate. We cannot presume that a civil ruler understands as much of theology as a minister of the gospel. His necessary duties prevent him from critical)} 7 investigating questions upon divinity; and confine his attention to that particular depart- ment which society has deputed him to occupy; and hence to expect at his hands a' testimony of qualification to preach would be almost as ludicrous as to require an obscure country curate to fill the office of Lord Chancellor. 'But again — admitting that a magistrate who is nominated by the sovereign to issue forth licenses to dissenting ministers, is competent to the task of judging of their natural and acquired abilities, it must still remain a doubtful question whether they are moved to preach by the influences of the Holy Ghost: for it is the prerogative of God alone to "search the heart and try the reins " of the children of men. Consequently, after every effort of the ruling powers to assume to themselves the right of judging whether a man be or be not qualified to preach, the most essential property of the call must remain to be deter- mined by the conscience of the individual. 'It is further worthy of observation that the talents of a preacher may be acceptable to many persons, if not to him who issues the license. The taste of a person thus high in office may be too refined to derive gratification from any but the most learned, intelligent, and accomplished preachers. Yet, as the gospel is sent to the poor as well as to the rich, perhaps hun- dreds of preachers may be highly acceptable, much esteemed, and eminently useful in their respective circles, who would be despised as men of mean attainments by one whose mind is well stored with literature, and cultivated by science. From these remarks I infer, that a man's own judgment must be the criterion, in determining what l^ie of conduct to pursue before he begins to preach : and the opinion of the people to whom he ministers must determine whether it be desirable that he should continue to fill their pulpit.' — (168 — 173.) The sentiments of Philagatharches are expressed still more strongly in a subsequent passage. 'Here a question may arise — what line of conduct consci- entious ministers ought to pursue, if laws were to be enacted, forbidding either all dissenting ministers to preach, or only lay preachers; or forbidding to preach in an unlicensed place; at the same time forbidding to licence persons and places, except under such security as the property of the parties would not meet, or under limitations to which their consciences would not accede. What has been advanced ought to outweigh every consideration of temporal interest ; and if the evil genius of persecution were to appear again, I pray God that we might all be faithful to Him who has called us to preach the gospel. Under such circumstances, let us continue to preach: if fined, let us pay the penalty, and persevere in preaching; and when unable to pay the fine, or deeming it impolitic so to do, let us submit to go quietly to prison, but with the resolution still to preach on the first opportunity, and, if possible, to collect a CHARLES FOX. 65 church even within the precincts of the gaol. He, who by these zealous exertions, becomes the honoured instrument of converting one sinner unto God, will find that single seal to his ministerial labours an ample compensation for all his suf- ferings. In this maimer the venerable apostle of the Gentiles both avowed and proved his sincere attachment to the cause in which he had embarked: — "The Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God." 'In the early ages of Christianity martyrdom was considered an eminent honour; and many of the primitive Christians thrust themselves upon the notice of their heathen persecutors, that they might be brought to suffer in the cause of that Re- deemer whom they ardently loved. In the present day Chris- tians in general incline to estimate such rash ardour as a spe- cies of enthusiasm, and feel no disposition to court the horrors of persecution; yet if such dark and tremendous days were to return in this age of the world, ministers should retain their stations; they should be true to their charge; they should continue their ministrations, each man in his sphere, shining with all the lustre of genuine godliness, to dispel the gloom in which the nation would then be enveloped. If this line of conduct were to be adopted, and acted upon witli decision, the cause of piety, of non-conformity, and of itinerant preaching, must eventually triumph. All the gaols in the country would speedily be filled: those houses of correction which were erected for the chastisement of the vicious in the community, would be replenished with thousands of the most pious, active, and useful men in the kingdom, whose characters are held in general esteem. But the ultimate result of such despotic pro- ceedings is beyond the ken of human prescience: probably, appeals to the public and to the legislature would teem from the press, and, under such circumstances, might diffuse a revolutionary spirit throughout the country.' — (239 — 243.) We quote these opinions at length, not because they are the opinions of Philagatharches, but because we are confident that they are the opinions of ten thousand hot-headed fanatics, and that they would firmly and conscientiously be acted upon. Philagatharches is an instance (not uncommon, we are sorry to say, even among the most rational of the Protestant Dissenters) of a love of toleration com- bined with a love of persecution. He is a Dissenter, a*d earnestly demands religious liberty for that body of men ; but as for the Catholics, he would not only continue their present disabilities, but load them with eve**' new one that could be conceived. He expressly says that an Atheist or a Deist may be allowed to •propagate their doctrines, but not a Catholic ; and then proceeds with all the customary trash against that sect wliich nine schoolboys out of ten now know how to refute. So it is with Philagatharches , — so it is with weak men in every sect. It has ever been our object, and (in spite of misrepresentation and abuse) ever shall be our object, to put down this spirit — to protect the true interests, and to diffuse the true spi- rit, of toleration. To a well-supported national Estab- lishment, effectually discharging its duties, we are very sincere friends. If any man, after he has paid his contribution to this great security for the existence of religion in any shape, chooses to adopt a religion of his own, that man should be permitted to do so without let, molestation, or disqualification for any of the offices of life. We apologize to men of sense for sentiments so trite ; and patiently endure the anger which they will excite among those with whom they will pass for original. CHARLES FOX. (Edinburgh Review, 1811.) A Vindication of Mr. Fox's History of the Early Part of the Reign of James the Second. By Samuel Heywood, Serjeant- at-Law. London. Johnson & Co. 1811. Though Mr. Fox's history was of course, as much open to animadversion and rebuke as any other book, the task, we think, would have become any other per- son better than Mr. Rose. The whole of Mr. Fox's life was spent in oppposing the profligacy and expo- sing the ignorance of his own court. In the first half of his political career, while Lord North was losing America, and in the latter half, while Mr. Pitt was ruining Europe, the creatures of the government were eternally exposed to the attacks of this discerning, dauntless, and most powerful speaker. Folly and corruption never had a more terrible enemy in the English House of Commons — one whom it was so im- possible to bribe, so hopeless to elude, and so difficult to answer. Now it so happened, that, during the whole of this period, the historical critic of Mr. Fox was employed in subordinate offices of government ; — that the detail of taxes passed through his hands ; — that he amassed a large fortune by those occupations ; and that both in the measures which he supported, and in the friends from whose patronage he received his emoluments, he was completely and perpetually opposed to Mr. Fox. Again, it must be remembered, that very great peo- ple have very long memories for the injuries which they receive, or which they think they receive. No speculation was so good, therefore, as to vilify the memory of Mr. Fox — nothing so delicious as to lower him in the public estimation — no service so likely to be well rewarded — so eminently grateful to those of whose favour Mr. Rose had so often tasted the sweets, and of the value of whose patronage he must, from long experience, have been so thoroughly aware. We are almost inclined to think that we might at one time have worked ourselves up to suspect Mr. Rose of being actuated by some of. these motives : — not because we have any reason to think worse of that gentleman than of most of his political associates, but merely because it seemed to us so very probable that he should have been so influenced. Our suspi- cions, however, were entirely removed by the fre- quency and violence of his own protestations. He vows so solemnly that he has no bad motive in writing his critique, that we find it impossible to withhold our belief in his purity. But Mr. Rose does not trust to his protestations alone. He is not satisfied with assurances that he did not write his book from any bad motive, but he informs us that his motive was ex- cellent, and is even obliging enough to tell us what that motive was. The Earl of Marchmont, it seems, • was Mr. Rose's friend. To Mr. Rose he left his manuscripts ; and among these manuscripts was a narrative written by Sir Patrick Hume, an ancestor of the Earl of Marchmont, and one of the leaders in Argyle's rebellion. Of Sir Patrick Hume, Mr. Rose conceives (a little erroneously to be sure, but he as- sures us he does conceive) Mr. Fox to have spoken disrespectfully ; and the case comes out, therefore, as clearly as possible, as follows. Sir Patrick was the progenitor, and Mr. Rose was the friend and sole executor, of the Earl of March- mont ; and therefore, says Mr. Rose, I consider it as a sacred duty to vindicate the character of Sir Patrick, and, for that purpose, to publish a long and elaborate critique upon all the doctrines and statements contain- ed in Mr. Fox's history ! This appears to us about as satisfactory an explanation of Mr. Rose's author- ship, as the exclamation of the traveller was of the name of Stony Stratford. Before Mr. Rose gave way to this intense value for Sir Patrick, and resolved to write a book, he should have inquired what accurate men there were about in society: and if he had once received the slightest no- tice of the existence of Mr.Samuel Heywood, serjeant- at-law, we are convinced he would have transfused into his own will and testament the feelings he deri- ved from that of Lord Marchmont, and devolved upon another executor the sacred and dangerous duty of vindicating Sir Patrick Hume. The life of Mr. Rose has been principally employed in the painful, yet perhaps necessary, duty of increa- sing the burdens of his fellow creatures. It has been a life of detail, onerous to the subject — onerous and lucrative to himself. It would be unfair to expect from one thus occupied any great depth of thought, or any remarkable graces of composition ; but we have a fair right to look for habits of patient research and scrupulous accuracy. We might naturally expect in- dustry in collecting facts, and fidelity in quoting them and hope, in the absence of commanding genius, to receive a compensation from the more humble and ordinary qualities of the rnind. How far this is the 66 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH case, our subsequent remarks will enable the reader to judge. We shall not extend them to any great length, as we have before treated on the same subject in our review of Mr. Rose's work. Our great object at pre- sent is to abridge the observations of Sergeant Hey- wood. For Serjeant Heywood, though a most respect- able, honest, and enlightened man, really does require an abridger. He has not the talent of saying what he has to say quickly ; nor is he aware that brevity is in writing what charity is to all other virtues. Right- eousness is worth nothing without the one, nor author- ship without the other. But whoever will forgive this little defect will find in all his productions great learning, immaculate honesty, and the most scrupulous accuracy. Whatever detections of Mr. Rose's inac- curacies are made in this Review are to be entirely given to him ; and we confess ourselves quite aston- ished at their number and extent. 'Among the modes of destroying persons (says Mr. Fox, p. 14,) in such a situation (i. e. monarchs deposed), there can be little doubt but that adopted by Cromwell and his adhe- rents is the least dishonourable. Edward II., Richard II., Henry IV., Edward V., had none of them survived their de- posal; but this was the first instance, in our history at least, when of such an act it could be truly said it was not done in What Mr. Rose can find in this sentiment to quar- rel with, we are utterly at a loss to conceive. If a human being is to be put to death unjustly, is it no mitigation of such a lot that the death should be pub- lic ? Is any thing better calculated to prevent secret torture and cruelty? And would Mr. Rose, in mercy to Charles, have preferred that red-hot iron should have been secretly thrust into his entrails ? — or that he should have disappeared as Pichegru and Toussaint have disappeared in our times ? The periods of the Edwards and Henrys were, it is true, barbarous pe- riods : but this is the very argument Mr. Fox uses. All these murders, he contends, were immoral and bad ; but that where the manner was the least objec- tionable, was the murder of Charles the First — be- cause it was public. And can any human being doubt, in the first place, that these crimes would be marked by less intense cruelty if they were public, and, se- condly, that they would become less frequent, where the perpetrators incurred responsibility, than if they were committed by an uncertain hand in secrecy and concealment ? There never was, in short, not only a more innocent, but a more obvious sentiment ; and to object to it hi the manner which Mr. Rose has done, is surely to love Sir Patrick Hume too much, — if there can be any excess in so very commendable a passion in the breast of a sole executor. Mr. Fox proceeds to observe, that { he who has dis- cussed this subject with foreigners, must have observ- ed, that the act of the execution of Charles, even in the minds of those who condemn it, excites more ad- miration than disgust.' If the sentiment is bad, let those who feel it answer for it. Mr. Fox only asserts the fact, and explains, without justifying it. The only question (as concerns Mr. Fox) is, whether such is, or is not, the feeling of foreigners ; and whether that feeling (if it exists) is rightly explained ? We have no doubt either of the fact or of the explanation. The conduct of Cromwell and his associates, was not to be excused in the main act ; but, in the manner, it was magnanimous. And among the servile nations of the Continent, it must naturally excite a feeling of joy and wonder, that the power of the people had for once been felt, and so memorable a lesson read to those whom they must naturally consider as the great op- pressors of mankind. The most unjustifiable point of Mr. Rose's accusa- tion, however, is still to come. < If such high praise,' says that gentleman, < was, in the judgment of Mr. Fox, due to Cromwell for the publicity of the proceed- ings against the king, how would he have found lan- guage sufficiently commendatory to express his admi- ration of the magnanimity of those who brought Lewis the Sixteenth to an open trial?' Mr. Rose accuses Mr. Fox, then, of approving the execution of Lewis the Sixteenth: but, on the 20tb of December, 1792, Mr. Fox said, in the House of Common in the pre- sence of Mr. Rose, ' The proceedings with respect to the royal family of France, are so far from being magnanimity, justice, or mercy, that they are directly the reverse ; they are injustice, cruelty, and pusil- lanimity.' And afterwards declared his wish for an address to his majesty, to which he would add an expression ' of our ab- horrence of the proceedings against the royal family of France, in which, I have no doubt, we shall be supported by the whole country. If there can be any means suggested that will be better adapted to produce the unanimous concurrence of this House, and of all the country, with respect to the measure now under consideration in Paris, I should be obliged to any per- son for his better suggestion upon the subject ' Then, after stating that such address, especially if the Lords joined in it, must have a decisive influence in France, he added, ' I have said thus much in order to contradict one of the most cruel misrepresentations of what I have before said in our late de- bates ; and that my language may not be interpreted from the manner in which other gentlemen have chosen to answer it. I have spoken the genuine sentiments of my heart, and I anx- iously wish the House to come to some resolution upon the sub- ject.' And on the following day, when a copy of instructions sent to Earl Gower, signifying that he should leave Paris, was laid before the House of Commons, Mr. Fox said, ' he had heard it said, that the proceedings against the King of France are unnecessary. He would go a great deal farther, and say, he believed them to be highly unjust ; and not only repugnant to all the common feelings of mankind, but also contrary to all the fundamental principles of law.'— (p. 20, 21.) On Monday the 28th January, he said, ' With regard to that part of the communication from his majesty, which related to the late detestable scene exhibited in a neighbouring country, he could not suppose there were two opinions in that House ; he knew they were all ready to declare their abhorrence of that abominable proceeding.'— (p. 21.) Two days afterwards, in the debate on the message, Mr. Fox pronounced the condemnation and execution of the king to be — ' an act as disgraceful as any that history recorded : and whatever opinions he might at any time have expressed in pri- vate conversation, he had expressed none certainly in that House on the justice of bringing kings to trial : revenge b^ing unjustifiable, and punishment useless, where it could not oper- ate either by way of prevention or example ; he did not view with less detestation the injustice and inhumanity that had been committed towards that unhappy monarch. Not only were the rules of criminal justice — rules that more than any other ought to be strictly observed — violated with respect to him : not only was he tried and condemned without existing law, to which he was personally amenable, and even contrary to laws that did actually exist, but the degrading circumstan ces of his imprisonment, the unnecessary and insulting asperity with which he had been treated, the total want of republican magnanimity in the whole transaction, (for even in that House it could be no offence to say, that there might be such a tiling as magnanimity in a republic,) added every aggravation to the inhumanity and injustice.' That Mr. Fox had held this language in the House of Commons, Mr. Rose knew perfectly well, when he accused that gentleman of approving the murder of the King of France. Whatever be the faults imputed to Mr. Fox, duplicity and hypocrisy were never among the number ; and no human being ever doubted but that Mr. Fox, in this instance, spoke his real senti- ments : but the love of Sir Patrick Hume is an over- whelming passion ; and no man who gives way to it, can ever say into what excesses he may be hurried. Non simul cuiquam conceditur, amare et sapere. The next point upon which Sergeant Heywood at- tacks Mr. Rose, is that of General Monk. Mr. Fox says of Monk, ' that he acquiesced in the insult so meanly put upon the illustrious corpse of Blake, under whose auspices and command he had performed the most creditable services of his life.' This story, Mr. Rose says, rests upon the authority of Neale, m his History of the Puritans. This is the first of many blunders made by Mr. Rose upon this particular topic : for Anthony Wood, in his Fasti Oxonienses, enumera- ting Blake among the bachelors, says, < His body was taken up, and, with others, buried in a pit in St. Mar- garet's church-yard adjoining, near to the back door of one of the prebendaries of Westminster, in which place it now remaineth, enjoying no other monument but CHARLES FOX. 67 what it reared by its valour, which time itself can hardly eflace.' But the difficulty is to find how the denial of Mr. Rose affects Mr. Fox's assertion. Mr. those admits that Blake's body was dug up by an order of the king ; and does not deny that it was done with the acquiescence of Monk. But if this be the case, Mr. Fox's position that Blake was insulted, and that Monk acquiesced in the insult, is clearly made out. Nor has Mr. Rose the shadow of an authority for say- ing that the cprpse of Blake was reinterred with great decorum. Kennet is silent upon the subject. We have already given Sergeant Heywood's quotation from Anthony Wood ; and this statement, for the present, rests entirely upon the assertion of Mr. Rose ; and upon that basis will remain to all eternity. Mr. Rose, who, we must say, on all occasions, through the whole of this book, makes the greatest parade of his accuracy, states that the bodies of Cromwell, Ireton, and Blake, were taken up at the same time ; whereas the fact is, that those of Crom- well and Ireton were taken up on the 26th of January, and that of Blake on the 10th of September, nearly nine months afterwards. It may appear frivolous to notice such errors as these ; but they lead to very strong suspicions hi a critic of history and of histori- ans. They show that those habits of punctuality, on the faith of which he demands implicit confidence from his readers, really do not exist ; they prove that such a writer will be exact only when he thinks the occasion of importance ; and as he himself is the only judge of thai importance, it is necessary to examine his proofs in every instance, and impossible to trust him anywhere. Mr. Rose remarks that, in the weekly paper entitled Mercurius Rusticus, Number 4, where an account is given of the disinterment of Cromwell and Ireton, not a syllable is said respecting the corpse of Blake. This is very true ; but the reason (which does not seem to have occurred to Mr. Rose) is, that Blake's corpse was not touched till six months afterwards. This is really a little too much. That Mr. Rose should quit his usual pursuits, erect himself into an historical critic, perch upon the body of the dead lion, impugn the accuracy of one of the greatest, as well as most accurate men of his time — and himself be guilty of such gross and unpardonable negligence, looks so very much like an insensibility to shame, that we should be loth to characterize his conduct by the severe epithets which it appears to merit, and which, we are quite certain, Sir Patrick, the defendee, would have been the first to bestow upon it. The next passage in Mr. Fox's work objected to, is that which charges Monk, at the trial of Argyle, ' with having produced letters of friendship and confidence to take away the life of a nobleman, in the zeal and cordiality of whose co-operation with him, proved by such documents, was the chief ground of his execu- tion.' This accusation, says Mr. Rose, rests upon the sole authority of Bishop Burnet ; and yet no sooner has he said this, than he tells us, Mr. Laing considers the bishop's authority to be confirmed by Cunningham and Baillie, both contemporary writers. Into Cun- ningham or Baillie Mr. Rose never looks to see whe- ther or not they do really confirm the authority of the bishop ; and so gross is his negligence, that the very misprint from Mr. Laing's work is copied, and page 431 of Baillie is cited instead of 451 . If Mr. Rose had really taken the trouble of referring to these books, all doubt of the meanness and guilt of Monk must have been instantly removed. ' Monk was moved,' says Baillie, c to send down four or five of Argyle 's let- ters to himself and others, promising his full compliance with them, that the king should not reprieve him.'' Bail- lie's Letters, p. 451. 'He endeavoured to make his defence,' says Cunningham ; * but chiefly by the discove- ries of Monk was condemned of high treason, and lost his head.' — Cunningham's History, i. p. 13. Would it have been more than common decency re- quired, if Mr. Rose, who had been apprised of the ex- istence of these authorities, had had recourse to them, before he impugned the authority of Mr. Fox ? Or is it possible to read, without some portion of contempt, this slovenly and indolent corrector of supposed inac- curacies in a man, not only so much greater than him- self in his general nature, but a man who, as it turns out, excels Mr. Rose in his own little art of looking, searching, and comparing and is as much his supe- rior in the retail qualities which small people arrogate to themselves, as he was in every commanding faculty to the rest of his fellow creatures ? Mr. Rose searches Thurloe's State Papers ; but Ser- jeant Heywood searches them after Mr. Rose : and, by a series of the plainest references, proves the prob- ability there is that Argyle did receive letters which might materially have affected his life. To Monk's duplicity of conduct may be principally attributed the destruction of his friends, who were prevented, by their confidence in him, from taking measures to secure themselves. He selected those among them whom he thought fit for trial — sat as a commissioner upon their trial — and interfered not to save the lives even of those with whom he had lived in the habits of the greatest kindness. ' I cannot,' says a witness of the most unquestionable autho- rity, ' I cannot forget one passage that I saw. Monk and his wife, before they were moved to the Tower, while they were yet prisoners at Lambeth House, came one evening to the garden, and caused them to be brought down, only to stare at them ; which was such a barbarism, for that man who betrayed so many poor men to death and misery, that never hurt him, but had honoured him, and trusted their lives and interests with him, to glut his bloody eyes with beholding them in their bon- dage, as no story can parallel the inhumanity of.' — (p. 83.) — Hutchinson's Memoirs, 378. This, however, is the man whom Mr. Fox, at the distance of a century and a half, may not mark with infamy, without incurring, from the candour of Mr Rose, the imputation of republican principles; — as if attachment to monarchy could have justified, in Monk, the coldness, cruelty, and treachery of his character, — as if the historian became the advocate, or the ene- my of any form of government, by praising the good, or blaming the bad men which it might produce. Ser- jeant Heywood sums up the whole article as follows : ' Having examined and commented upon the evidence pro- duced by Mr. Rose, than which "it is hardly possible," he says, " to conceive that stronger could be formed in any case to establish a negative," we now safely assert that Mr. Fox had fully informed himself upon the subject before he wrote, and was amply justified in the condemnation of Monk, and the consequent severe censures upon him. It has been already demonstrated that the character of Monk had been truly gi- ven, when of him he said, " the army had fallen into the hands of one than whom a baser could not be found in its lowest ranks." The transactions between him and Argyle for a cer- tain period of time were such as must naturally, if not neces- sarily, have led them into an epistolary correspondence ; and it was in exact conformity with Monk's character and conduct to the regicides, that he should betray the letters written to him, in order to destroy a man whom he had, in the latter part of his command in Scotland, both feared and hated. If the fact of the production of these letters had stood merely on Bishop Burnet, we have seen that nothing has been produced by Mr. Rose and Dr. Campbell to impeach it ; on the contra- ry, an inquiry into the authorities and documents they have cited, strongly confirm it. But, as before observed, it is a sur- prising instance of Mr. Rose's indolence, that he should state the question to depend now, as it did in Dr. Campbell's time, on the bishop's authority solely. But that authority is, in itself, no light one. Burnet was almost eighteen years of age at the time of Argyle's trial ; he was never an unobserving spectator of public events ; he was probably at Edinburgh, and, for some years afterwards, remained in Scotland, with, ample means of information respecting events which had taken place so recently. Baillie seems, also to have been upon the spot, and expressly confirms the testimony of Burnet. To these must be added Cunningham, who, writing as a person perfectly acquainted with the circumstances of the transac- tion, says it was owing to the interference of Monk, who had been his great friend in Oliver's time, that he was sent back to Scotland, and brought to trial ; and that he was condemned chiefly by his discoveries. We may now ask, where is the improbability of this story, when related of such a man? and what ground there is for not giving credit t« a fact attested by three witnesses of veracity, each writing at a distance, and separate from each other ? In this instance Bishop Burnet is so confirmed, that no reasonable being who will attend to the subject, can doubt of the fact he relates being true ; and we shall hereafter prove that the general imputation against his accuracy made by Mr. Rose is totally without foundation. If facts so proved are not to be credited, historians may lay WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. aside their pens, and every man must content himself with tho scanty pittance of knowledge he maybe able to collect for himself in the very limited sphere of his own immediate obser- vation.'— (p. 86-88.) This, we think, is conclusive enough : but we are happy to be enabled, out of our own store, to set this part of the question finally to rest, by an authority which Mr. Rose himself will probably admit to be de- cisive. Sir George Mackenzie, the great tory lawyer of Scotland in that day, and Lord Advocate to Charles II., through the greater part of his reign, was the lead- ing counsel for Argyle on the trial alluded to. In 1678, this learned person, who was then Lord Advo- cate to Charles, published an elaborate treatise on the criminal law of Scotland ; in which, when treating of probation, or evidence, he observes, that missive let- ters, not written, but only signed by the party, should not be received in evidence ; and immediately adds, ' And yet the Marquis of Argyle was convict of treason UPON LETTERS WRITTEN BY HIM TO GENERAL MONK ; these letters being only subscribed by him, and not holograph, and the subscription being proved per com- parationem literarum } which were very hard in other cases,' &c. — Mackenzie's Criminals, first edit. p. 524, Part II. tit. 25, § 3. Now this, we conceive, is neither more nor less than a solemn professional report of the case, — and leaves just as little room for doubt as to the fact, as if the original record of the trial had been recovered. Mr. Rose next objects to Mr. Fox's assertion, that 1 the king kept from his cabal ministry the real state of his connection with France — and from some of them the secret of what he was pleased to call his religion ; ' and Mr. Fox doubts whether to attribute this conduct to the habitual treachery ot Charles, or to an appre- hension that his ministers might demand for them- selves some share of the French money ; which he was unwilling to give them. In answer to this conjecture, Mr. Rose quotes Barillon's Letters to Lewis XIV. to show that Charles's ministers were fully apprised of . his money transactions with France. The letters so quoted were, however, written seven years after the cabal ministry were in power — for Barillon did not come to England as Ambassador till 1677— and these letters were not written till after that period. Poor Sir Pat- rick — It was for thee and thy defence this book was written ! ! ! ! Mr. Fox has said, that from some of the ministers of the cabal the secret of Charles's religion was con- cealed. It was known to Arlington, admitted by Mr. Rose to be a concealed Catholic ; it was known to Clifford, an avowed Catholic : Mr. Rose admits it not to have been known to Buckingham, though he ex- plains the reserve, in respect to him, in a different way. He has not, however, attempted to prove that Lauderdale or Ashley were consulted ; — on the con- trary, in Colbert's letter of the 25th August, 1670, ci- ted by Mr. Rose, it is stated that Charles had proposed the trait'e simule, which should be a repetition of the former one in all things, except the article relative to the king's declaring himself a Catholic, and that the Protestant ministers, Buckingham, Ashley, Cooper, and Lauderdale, should be brought to be parties to it : — Can there be a stronger proof (asks Serjeant Hey- wood), that they were ignorant of the same treaty made the year before, and remaining then in force? Historical research is certainly not the peculiar talent of Mr. Rose ; and as for the official accuracy of which he is so apt to boast, we would have Mr. Rose to re- member, that the term official accuracy has of late days become one of very ambiguous import. Mr. Rose, we can see, would imply by it the highest pos- sible accuracy — as we see office pens advertised in the window of a shop, by way of excellence. The public reports of those, however, who have been appointed to look into the manner in which public offices are conducted, by no means justify this usage of the term ; — and we are not without apprehensions, that Dutch politeness, Carthaginian faith, Boeotian genius, and official accuracy, may be terms equally current in the world ; and that Mr. Rose may, without intending it, have contributed to make this valuable addition to the mass of our ironical phraseology Speaking of the early part of James's reign, Mr. Fox says, it is by no means certain that he had yet thoughts of obtaining for his religion any thing more than a complete toleration ; and if Mr. Rose had understood the meaning of the French word etablissement, one of his many incorrect corrections of Mr. Fox might have been spared. A system of religion is said to be estab- lished when it is enacted and endowed by Parliament ; but a toleration (as Serjeant Heywood observes) is established when it is recognized and protected by the supreme power. And in the letters *of Barillon, to which Mr. Rose refers for the justification of his at- tack upon Mr. Fox, it is quite manifest that M. is in this latter sense that the word etablissement is used ; an£ that the object in view was, not the substitution of the Catholic religion for the Established Church, but mere- ly its toleration. In the first letter cited by Mr. Rose, James says, that ' he knew well he should never be in safety unless liberty of conscience for them should be fully established in England.' The letter of the 24th of April is quoted by Mr. Rose, as if the French king had written, the establishment of the Catholic religion ; whereas the real words are, the establishment of the free exercise of the Catholic religion. The world are so in- veterately resolved to believe, that a man who has no brilliant talents must be accurate, that Mr. Rose, in referring to authorities, has a great and decided ad- vantage. He is, however, in point of fact, as lax and incorrect as a poet ; and it is absolutely necessary, in spite of every parade of line, and page, and number, to follow him in the most minute particular. The Ser- jeant like a bloodhound of the old breed, is always upon his track ; and always looks if there are any such passages in the page quoted, and if the passages are accurately quoted or accurately translated. Nor will he by any means be content with official accuracy, nor submit to be treated, in historical questions, as if he were hearing financial statements in the House of Commons. Barillon writes, in another letter to Lewis XIV. — ' What your majesty has most besides at heart, that is to say, for the establishment of the free exercise of the Catholic religion.' On the 9th of May, Lewis writes to Barillon, that he is persuaded Charles will employ all his authority to establish the free excercise of the Catholic religion : he mentions also, in the same letter, the Parliament consenting to the free ex- ercise of our religion. On the loth of June, he writes to Barillon — ' There now remains only to obtain the re- peal of the penal laws in favour of the Catholics, and the free exercise of our religion in all his states.' Immedi- ately after Monmouth's execution, when his views of success must have been as lofty as they ever could have been, Lewis writes — ' It will be easy to the King of England, and as useful for the security of his reign as for the repose of his conscience, to re-establish the exercise of the Catholic religion.' In a letter of Baril- lon, July 16th, Sunderland is made to say, that the king would always be exposed to the indiscreet zeal •of those who would inflame the people against the Catholic religion, so long as it should not be more fully established. The French expression is, tant qu'elle ne sera pas plus epleinement tablie ; and this Mr. Rose has had the modesty to translate, till it shall be completely established, and to mark the passage with italics, as of the greatest importance to his argument. These false quotations and translations being detected, and those passages of early writers, from which Mr. Fox had made up his opinion, brought to light, it is not possible to doubt, but that the object of James, before Monmouth's defeat, was not the destruction of the Protestant, but the toleration of the Catholic religion ; and after the execution of Monmouth, Mr. Fox ad- mits, that he became more bold and sanguine upon the subject of religion. We do not consider those observations of Serjeant Heywood to be the most fortunate in his book, where he attempts to show the republican tendency of Mr. Rose's principles. Of any disposition to principles of this nature, we most heartily acquit that right honour- able gentleman. He has too much knowledge of man- kind to believe their happiness can be promoted in the stormy and tempestuous regions of republicanism CHARLES FOX. and, besides this, that system of slender pay, and de- ficient perquisites, to which the subordinate agents of government are confined in republics, is much too painful to be thought of for a single instant. We are afraid of becoming tedious by the enu- meration of blunders into which Mr. Rose has fallen, and which Serjeant Heywood has detected. But the burthen of this sole executor's song is accuracy— his own official accuracy — and the little dependence which is to be placed on the accuracy of Mr. Fox. We will venture to assert, that, in the whole of his work, he has not detected Mr. Fox in one single error. Wheth- er Serjeant Heywood has been more fortunate with Mr. Rose, might be determined, perhaps, with suffi- cient certainty, by our previous extracts from his re- marks. But for some indulgent readers, these may not seem enough : and we must proceed in the task, till we have settled Mr. Rose's pretensions to accura- cy on a still firmer foundation. And if we be thought minutely severe, let it be remembered that Mr. Rose is himself an accuser; and if there is justice upon earth, every man has a right to pull stolen goods out of the pocket of him who cries, l Stop thief! ' In the story which Mr. Rose states of the seat in Parliament sold for five pounds (Journal of the Com- mons, vol. v.), he is wrong, both in the sum and the volume. The sum is four pounds ; and it is told, not in the fifth volume, but the first. Mr. Rose states, that a perpetual excise was granted to the crown, iii lieu of the profits of the court of wards ; and adds, that the question in favour of the crown was carried by a majority of two. The real fact is, that the half only of an excise upon certain articles was granted to government in lieu of these profits; and this grant was carried without a division. An attempt was made to grant the other half, and this was negatived by a majority of two. The Journals are open ; — Mr. Rose reads them ; — he is officially accurate. What can the meaning be of these most extraordinary mistakes ? Mr. Rose says that, in 1679, the writ de hceretico comburendo had been a dead letter for more than a century. It would have been extremely agreeable to Mr. Bartholomew Legate, if this had been the case ; for, in 1612, he was burnt at Smithfield for being an Arian. Mr. Wightman would probably have partici- pated in the satisfaction of Mr. Legate ; as he was burnt also, the same year, at Lichfield, for the same offence. With the same correctness, this scourge of historians makes the Duke of Lauderdale, who died in 1682, a confidential adviser of James II. after his accession in 1689. In page 13, he quotes, as written by Mr. Fox, that which was written by Lord Holland. This, however, is a familiar practice with him. Ten pages afterwards, in Mr. Fox's History, he makes the same mistake. ' Mr. Fox added' — whereas it was jLwd Holland that added. The same mistake again in p. 147 of his own book ; and after this, he makes Mr. Fox the person who selected the appendix of Barillon's papers ; whereas it is particularly stated in the preface to the History, that this appendix was selected by Laing. Mr. Rose affirmr,, that compassing to levy war against the king was made high treason by the sta- tute of 25 Edward the Third ; and, in support of this affirmation, he cites Coke and Blackstone. His stern antagonist, a professional man, is convinced he has read neither. The former says, ' a compassing to levy war is no treason, (Inst. 3., p. 9.),; and Blacksone, l a bare conspiracy to levy war does not amount to this species of treason.' (Com. iv. p. 82.) This really does not look as if the Serjeant had made out his assertion. Of the bill introduced in 1685, for the preservation of the person of James II., Mr. Rose observes — < Mr. Fox has not told us for which of our modern statutes this bill was used as a model ; and it will he difficult lor any one to show such an instance.' It might have been thought, that no prudent man would have made such a challenge, without a tolerable certainty ot the ground upon which it was made. Serjeant Heywood answers the challenge by citing the 36 Geo. III. c. 7, whicn is a mere copy of the act of Jrmes. In the fifth section of Mr. Rose's vork is contained his grand attack upon Mr. Fox for his abuse of SiK Patrick Hume ; and his observations upon this point admit of a fourfold answer. 1st, Mr. Fox does not use the words quoted by Mr. Rose ; 2dly, He makes no mention whatever of Sir Patrick Hume in the pas- sage cited by Mr. Rose ; 3dly, Sir Patrick JHume is attacked by nobody in that history ; 4thly, If he had been so attacked he would have deserved it. The passage from Mr. Fox is this : — * In recounting the failure of his expedition, it is impos sible for him to touch upon what he deemed the miscon- duct of his friends ; and this is the subject upon which, of all others, his temper must have been most irritable. A certain description of friends (the words describing them are omitted) were all of them, without exception, his great- est enemies, both to betray and destroy him : . and and (the names again omitted) were the greatest cause of his rout, and his being taken, though not designedly, he acknowledges, but by ignorance, cowardice, and faction. This sentence had scarce escaped him, when, notwithstand- ing the qualifying words with which his candour has ac- quitted the last mentioned persons of intentional treachery, it appeared toe harsh to his gentle nature ; and, declaring himself displeased with the hard epithets he had used, he desires that they may be put out of any account that is to be given of these transactions.' — Heywood, p. 365, 366. Argyle names neither the description of friends who were his greatest enemies, nor the two individuals who were the principal cause of the failure of his scheme. Mr. Fox leaves the blanks as he finds them. But two notes are added by the editor, which Mr. Rose might have observed are marked with an E. In the latter of them we are told, that Mr. Fox observes, in a private letter, ' Cochrane and Hume certainly filled up the two principal blanks.' But is this communication of a pri- vate letter any part of Mr. Fox's history ? And would it not have been equally fair in Mr. Rose to have com- mented upon any private conversation of Mr. Fox, and then have called it his history ? Or, if Mr. Fox had filled up the blanks in the body of his history, does it follow that he adopts Argyle's censure because he shows against whom it is levelled ? Mr. Rose has described the charge against Sir Patrick Hume to be, of faction, cowardice, and treachery. Mr. Rose has more than once altered the terms of a proposition be- fore he has proceeded to answer it ; and, in this in- stance, the charge of treachery against Sir Patrick Hume is not made either in Argyle's letter, Mr. Fox's text, or the editor's note, or any where but in the im- agination of Mr. Rose. The sum of it all is, that Mr. Rose first supposes the relation of Argyle's opinion to be the expression of the relator's opinion, that Mr. Fox adopts Argyle's insinuations because he explains them ; — then he looks upon a quotation from a private letter, made by the editor, to be the same as if includ- ed in a work intended for publication by the author ; — then he remembers that he is the sole executor of Sir Patrick's grandson, whose blank is so filled up ;— and goes on blundering and blubbering, — grateful and in- accurate, — teeming with false quotations and friendly recollections to the conclusion of his book. — Multa gemens ignominiam. Mr. Rose came into possession of the Earl of March- mont's papers, containing, among other things, the narrative of Sir Patrick Hume. He is very severe upon Mr. Fox for not having been more diligent in searching for original papers ; and observes, that if any application had been made to him (Mr. Rose,) this narrative should have been at Mr. Fox's service. We should be glad to know, if Mr. Rose saw a per- son tumbled into a ditch, whether he would wait for a regular application till he pulled him out? Or, if he happened to espy the lost piece of silver for which the good woman was diligently sweeping the house, would he wait for formal interrogation before he im- parted his discovery, and suffer the lady to sweep on till the question had been put to him in the most solemn forms of politeness? The established prac- tice, we admit, is to apply, and to apply vigorously and incessantly, for sinecure places and pensions — or they cannot be had. This is true enough. But did any human being ever think of carrying this practice into literature, and compelling another to make inter- est for papers essential to the good conduct of hi* WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. undertaking? We are perfectly astonished at Mr. Rose's conduct in this particular; and should have thought that the ordinary exercise of his good nature ■would have led him to a very different way of acting. 1 On the whole, and upon the most attentive considera- tion of every thing which has been written upon the sub- ject, there does not appear to have been any intention of applying torture in the case of the Earl of Argyle.' (Rose, p. 182.) If this every thing had included the following extract from Barillon, the above cited, and v«ry disgraceful inaccuracy of Mr. Rose would have been spared. <■ The Earl of Argyle has been executed at Edinburgh, and has left a full confession in writing, in which he discovers all those who have assisted him with money, and have aided his designs. This has saved him from the torture.' And Argyle, in his letter to Mrs. Smith, confesses he has made discoveries. In his very inaccurate history of torture in the south- em part of this island, Mr. Rose says, that except in the case of Felton — in the attempt to introduce the civil law in Henry VI. 's reign, — and in some cases of treason in Mary's reign, torture was never attempted in this country. The fact, however, is, that in the reign of Henry VIII., Anne Askew was tortured by the chancellor himself. Simson was tortured in 1558 ; Francis Throgmorton in 1571 ; Charles Baillie, and Banastie, the Duke of Norfolk's servant, Avere tortured in 1581 ; Campier, the Jesuit, was put upon the rack ; and Dr. Astlow is supposed to have been racked in 1558. So much for Mr. Rose as the historian of pun- ishments. We have seen him, a few pages before, at the stake, — where he makes quite as bad a figure as he does now upon the rack. Precipitation and error are his foibles. If he were to write the history of sieges, he would forget the siege of Troy ; — if he were making a fist of poets, he would leave out Virgil : — Caesar would not appear in his catalogue of generals ; and Newton would be overlooked in his collection of eminent mathematicians. In some cases, Mr. Rose is to be met only with flat denial. Mr. Fox does not call the soldiers who were defending James against Argyle authorized assassins ; but he uses that expression against the soldiers who were murdering the peasants, and committing every sort of licentious cruelty in the twelve counties given up to military execution ; and this Mr. Rose must have known, by using the most ordinary diligence in the perusal of the text, — and would have known it in any other history than that of Mr. Fox. * Mr. Rose, in his concluding paragraph, boasts of Ms speaking " impersonally," and he hopes it will be allowed justly, when he makes a general observation respecting the proper province of history. But the last sentence evi- dently shows that, though he might be speaking justly, he was not speaking impersonally, if by that word is meant, without reference to any person. His words are, " But history cannot connect itself with party, without forfeiting its name ; without departing from the truth, the dignity, and the usefulness of its functions." After the remarks he has made in some of his preceding pages, and the apology he has offered for Mr. Fox, in his last preceding paragraph, for having been mistaken in his view of some leading points, there can be no difficulty in concluding, that this general observation is meant to be applied to the historical work. The charge intended to be insinuated must be, that, in Fox's hands, history has forfeited the name by being connected with party ; and has departed from the truth, the dignity, and the usefulness of its functions. It were to be wished that Mr. Rose had explained himself more fully ; for, after assuming that the application of his obser- vation is too obvious to be mistaken, there still remains some difficulty with respect to its meaning. If it is con- fined to such publications as are written under the title of histories, but are intended to serve the purposes of a party ; and truth is sacrificed, and facts perverted, to defend and give currency to their tenets, we do not dispute its pro- priety ; but, if that is the character which Mr. Rose would give to Mr. Fox's labours, he has not treated him with can- dour, or even common justice. Mr. Rose has never, in any one instance, intimated that Mr. Fox has wilfully de- parted from truth, or strayed from the proper province of history, for the purpose of indulging his private or party feelings. But, if Mr. Rose intends that his observation should be applied to all histories, the authors of which have felt strongly the influence of political connections and principles, what must become of most of the histories of England? Is the title of historian to be denied to Mr Hume ? and in what class are to be placed Echard, Rennet, Rapin, Dalrymple, or Macpherson ? In this point of view the principle laid down is too broad. A person, though connected with party, may write an impartial history of events which occurred a century before ; and, till this last entence, Mr. Rose has not ventured to intimate that Mr. Fox has not done so. On the contrary, he has declared his pprobation of a great portion of the work ; and his at- tempts to discover material errors in the remainder have uniformly failed in every particular. If it might be as- sumed that there existed in the book no faults, besides those which the scrutinizing eye of Mr. Rose has dis- covered, it might be justly deemed the most perfect work that ever came from the press ; for not a single deviation from the strictest duty of an historian has been pointed out; while instances of candour and impartiality present them- selves in almost every page ; and Mr. Rose himself has acknowledged and applauded many of them.'— (pp. 422 — 424.) These extracts from both books are sufficient to show the nature of Serjeant Heywood's examination of Mr. Rose, — the boldness of this latter gentleman's as- sertions, — and the extreme inaccuracy of the research- es upon which these assertions are founded. If any credit could be gained from such a book as Mr. Rose has published, it could be gained from accuracy alone. Whatever the execution of his book had been, the world would have remembered the infinite disparity of the two authors, and the long political opposition hi which they lived — if that, indeed, can be called oppo- sition, where the thunderbolt strikes, and the clay yields. They would have remembered also that Hec- tor was dead ; and that every cowardly Grecian could now thrust his spear into the hero's body. But still, if Mr. Rose had really succeeded in exposing the inac- curacy of Mr. Fox, — if he could have fairly shown that authorities were overlooked, or slightly examined, or wilfully perverted, — the incipient feelings to which such a controversy had given birth must have yielded to the evidence of facts ; and Mr. Fox, however quali fied in other particulars, must have appeared totally defective in that laborious industry and scrupulous good faith so indispensable to every historian. But he absolutely comes out of the contest not worse even in a single tooth or nail — unvilified even by a wrong date without one misnomer proved upon him — immacu- late in his years and days of the month — blameless to the most musty and limited pedant that ever yellowed himself amidst rolls and records. But how fares it with his critic ? He rests his credit with the world as a man of labour, — and he turns out to be a careless inspector of proofs, and an historical sloven. The species of talent which he pretends to is humble < — and he possesses it not. He has not done that which all men may do, and which every man ought to do, who rebukes his superiors for not doing it. His claims, too, it should be remembered, to these every-day qualities, are by no means enforced with gentleness and humility. He is a braggadocio of mi- nuteness — a swaggering chronologer ; a man bristling up with small facts — prurient with dates — wantoning in obsolete evidence — loftily dull, and haughty in his drudgery ; — and yet all this is pretence. Drawing is no very unusual power in animals; but he cannot draw ; — he is not even the ox which he is so fond of being. In attempting to vilify Mr. Fox, he has only shown us that there was no labour from which that great man shrunk, and that no object connected with his history was too minute for his investigation. He has thoroughly convinced us that Mr. Fox was as in- dustrious, and as accurate, as if these were the only qualities upon which he had ever rested his hope of fortune or of fame. Such, indeed, are the customary results when little people sit down to debase the char- acters of great men, and to exalt themselves upon the ruins of what they have pulled down. They only pro- voke a spirit of inquiry, which places everything in its true light and magnitude, — shows those who appear little to be still less, and displays new and unexpected excellence in others who were before known to excel. These are the usual consequences of such attacks. The fame of Mr. Fox has stood this, and will stand much ruder shocks. Non hietnes illam, nonfidbra neque imbres Convellunt ; immota manet, multosqueper annos Multa virum volens durando sacula vincit. MAD QUAKERS. MAD QUAKERS. (Edinburgh Review, 1814.) Description of the Retreat, an Institution near York, for Insane Persons of the Society of Friends. Containing an Account of its Origin and Progress, the Modes of Treatment, anda Statement of Cases. By Samuel Tuke. York, 1813. The Quakers always seem to succeed in any institu- tion which they undertake. The gaol at Philadelphia will remain a lasting monument of their skill and pa- tience ; and, in the plan and conduct of this retreat for the insane, they have evinced the same wisdom and perseverance. The present account is given us by Mr. Tuke, a re- spectable tea-dealer, living in York,— and given in a maimer which we are quite sure the most opulent and important of his customers could not excel. The long account of the subscription, at the beginning of the book, is evidently made tedious for the Quaker mar- ket ; and Mr. Tuke is a little too much addicted to quoting. But, with these trifling exceptions, his book does him very great credit ;— it is full of good sense and humanity, right feelings and rational views. The retreat for insane Quakers is situated about a mile from the city of York, upon an eminence commanding the adjacent country, and in the midst of a garden and fields belonging to the institution. The great princi- ple on which it appears to be conducted is that of kind- ness to the patients. It does not appear to them, be- cause a man is mad upon one particular subject, that he is to be considered in a state of complete mental degradation, or insensible to the feelings of kindness and gratitude. When a madman does not know what he is bid to do, the shortest method, to be sure, is to knock him down ; and straps and chains are the spe- cies of prohibition which ure the least frequently dis- regarded. But the Society of Friends seem rather to consult the interest of the patient than the ease of his keeper ; and to aim at the government of the insane, by creating in them the kindest disposition towards those who have the command over them. Nor can anything be more wise, humane, or interesting, than the strict attention to the feelings of their patients which seems to prevail in their institutions. The fol- lowing specimens of their disposition upon this point we have great pleasure in laying before our readers : — « The smallness of the court,' says Mr Tuke, ' would be a serious defect, if itwas not generally compensated by taking- such patients as are suitable into the garden ; and by fre- quent excursions into the city, or the surrounding country, and into the fields of the institution. One of these is sur- rounded by a walk interspersed with trees and shrubs. « The superintendent has also endeavoured to furnish a source of amusement to those patients whose walks are ne- cessarily more circumscribed, by supplying each of the courts with a number of animals, such as rabbits, sea gulls, hawks, and poultry. These creatures are generally very familiar with the patients ; and it is believed they are not only the means of innocent pleasure, but that the inter- course with them sometimes tends to awaken the social feel- ings.'— (p. 95, 96.) Chains are never permitted at the Retreat ; nor is it left to the option of the lower attendants when they are to impose an additional degree of restraint upon the patients ; and this compels them to pay attention to the feelings of the patients, and to attempt to gain an influence over them by kindness. Patients who are not disposed to injure themselves are merely confined by the strait waistcoat, and left to walk about the room, or lie down on the bed, at pleasure ; and even in those cases where there is a strong tendency to self- destruction, as much attention is paid to the feelings and ease of the patient as is consistent with his safety. « Except incases of violent mania, which is far frombeing a frequent occurrence at the Retreat, coercion, when requi- site, is considered as a necessary evil ; that is, it is thought abstractedly to have a tendency to retard the cure, by oppo- sing the influence of the moral remedies employed. It ic therefore used very sparingly ; and the superintendent has often assured me, that he would rather run some risk than have recourse to restraint where it was not absolutely ne- cessary, except in those cases where it was likely to have a ealutary moral tendency. < I feel no small satisfaction in stating, upon the author- ity of the superintendents, that during the last year, In which the number of patients has generally been sixty-four, there has not been occasion to seclude, on an average, two patients at one time. I am also able to state, that although it is occasionally necessary to restrain, by the waistcoat, straps, or other means, several patients at one time, yet that the average number so restrained does not exceed four, in- cluding those who are secluded. * The safety of those who attend upon the insane is cer- tainly an object of great importance ; but it is worthy of in- quiry whether it may not be attained without materially in- terfering with another object,— the recovery of the patient. It may also deserve inquiry, whether the extensive practice of coercion, which obtains in some institutions, does not arise from erroneous views of the character of insane per- sons ; from indifference to their comfort ; or from having rendered coercion necessary by previous unkind treatment. ' The power of judicious kindness over this unhappy class of society is much greater than is generallyimagined. It i6, per- haps, not too much to apply to kind treatment the words of our great poet, — " She can unlock The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell." — MiLTON. ' In no instance has this power been more strikingly dis- played, or exerted with more beneficial effects, than in those deplorable cases in which the patient refuses to take food. The kind persuasions and ingenious arts of the superintendents have been singularly successful in overcoming this distressing symptom ; and very few instances now occur in which it is necessary to employ violent means for supplying the patient witli food. ' Some patients, who refuse to partake of the family meals, are induced to eat by being taken into the larder, and there allowed to help themselves. Some are found willing to eat when food is left with them in their rooms, or when they can obtain it unobserved by their attendants. Others, whose de- termination is stronger, are frequently induced, by repeated persuasion, to take a small quantity of nutritious liquid ; and it is equally true in these as in general cases, that every breach of resolution weakens the power and disposition to resistance. ' Sometimes, however, persuasion seems to strengthen the unhappy determination. In one of these cases the attendants were completely wearied with their endeavours ; and, on remo- ving the food, one of them took a piece of the meat which had been repeatedly offered to the patient, and threw it under the fire-grate, at the same time exclaiming that she should not have it. The poor creature, who seemed governed by the rule of contraries, immediately rushed from her seat, seized the meat from the ashes, and devoured it. For a short time she was indu- ced to eat, by the attendants availing themselves of this contrary disposition ; but it was soon rendered unnecessary by the remo- val of this unhappy feature of the disorder.' — (p. 166, 167, 168, 169.) When it is deemed necessary to apply any mode of coercion, such an overpowering force is employed as precludes all possibility of successful resistance ; and most commonly, therefore, extinguishes every idea of making any at all. An attendant upon a madhouse ex- poses himself to some risk — and to some he ought to expose himself, or he is totally unfit for his situation. If the security of the attendants were the only object, the situation of the patients would soon become truly desperate. The business is, not to risk nothing, but not to risk too much. The generosity of the Quakers, and their courage in managing mad people, ixe placed, by this institution, in a very striking point of view. This cannot be better illustrated than by the two fol- lowing cases : ' The superintendent was one day walking in a field adja- cent to the house, in company with a patient who was apt to be vindictive on very slight occasions. An exciting circum- stance occurred. The maniac retired a few paces, and seized a large stone, which he immediately held up, as in the act of throwing at his companion. The superintendent, in no degree ruffled, fixed his eye upon the patient, and in a resolute tone of voice, at the same time advancing, commanded him to lay down the stone. As he approached, the hand of the lunatic gradually sunk from its threatening position, and permitted the stone to drop to the ground. He then submitted to be quietly led to his apartment.' ' Some years ago, a man, about thirty-four years of age, of almost herculean size and figure, was brought to the house. He had been afflicted several times before ; and so constantly, during the present attack, had he been kept chained, that his clothes were contrived to be taken off and put on by means of strings, without removing his manacles. They were, howe- ver, taken off when he entered the Retreat, and he was ush- ered into the apartment where the superintendents were sup ping. He was calm : his attention appeared to be arrested by his new situation. He was desired to join in the repast, during which he behaved with tolerable propriety. After it was cob- 72 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. eluded, the superintendent conducted him to his apartment, and told him the circumstances on which his treatment would depend ; that it was his anxious wish to make every inhabi- tant in the house as comfortable as possible ; and that he sin- cerely hoped the patient's conduct would render it unneces- sary to have recourse to coercion. The maniac was sensible of the kindness of his treatment. He promised to restrain himself; and he so completely succeeded, that, during his stay, no coercive means were ever employed towards him. This case affords a striking example of the efficacy of mild treatment The patient was frequently very vociferous, and threatened his attendants, who, in their defence, were very desirous of restraining him by the jacket. The superintend- ent on these occasions went to his apartment : and though the first sight of him seemed rather to increase the patient's irri- tation, yet, after sitting some time quietly beside him, the vio- lent excitement subsided, and he would listen with attention to the persuasions and arguments of his friendly visitor. After such conversations the patient was generally better for some days or a week ; and in about four months he was discharged, perfectly recovered. ' Can it be doubted that, in this case, the disease had been greatly exasperated by the mode of treatment 1 or that the subsequent kind treatment had a great tende^cv to promote his recovery?'— (p. 172, 173, 146, 147.) And yet, in spite of this apparent contempt of dan- ger, for eighteen years not a single accident has hap- pened to the keepers. In the day room the sashes are made of cast-iron, and give to the building the security of bars, without their unpleasant appearance. With the same lauda- ble attention to the feelings of these poor people, the straps of their strait waistcoats are made of some showy colour, and are not infrequently considered by them as ornaments. No advantage whatever has been found to arise from reasoning with patients on their particular delusions : it is found rather to exaspe- rate than convince them. Indeed, that state of mind would hardly deserve the name of insanity where ar- gument was sufficient for the refutation of error. The classification of patients according to their de- gree of convalescence is very properly attended to at the Retreat, and every assistance given to returning reason by the force of example. We were particular- ly pleased with the following specimens of Quaker sense and humanity : — ' The female superintendent, who possesses an uncommon share of benevolent activity, and who has the chief manage- ment of the female patients, as well as of the domestic depart- ment, occasionally gives a general invitation to the patients to a tea-party. All who attend dress in their best clothes, and vie with each other in politeness and propriety. The best fare is provided, and the visitors are treated with all the atten- tion of strangers. The evening generally passes in the great- est harmony and enjoyment. It rarely happens that any unpleasant circumstance occurs. The patients controul, in a wonderful degree, their different propensities ; and the scene is at once curious and affectingly gratifying. ' Some of the patients occasionally pay visits to their friends in the city ; and female visitors are appointed every month by the committee to pay visits to those of their own sex, to con- verse with them, and to propose to the superintendents, or the committee, any improvements which may occur to them. The visitors sometimes take tea with the patients, who are much gratified with the attention of their friends, and mostly behave with propriety. ' It will be necessary here to mention that the visits of form- er intimate friends have frequently been attended with dis- advantage to the patients, except when convalescence had so far advanced as to afford a prospect of a speedy return to the bosom of society. It is, however, very certain that, as soon as reason begins to return, the conversation of judicious indiffer- ent persons greatly increases the comfort, and is considered almost essential to the recovery of many patients. On this account the convalescents of every class are frequently intro- duced into the society of the rational parts of the family. They are also permitted to sit up till the usual time for the family to retire to rest, and are allowed as much liberty as their state of mind will permit.' — (p. 178, 179.) To the effects of kindness in the Retreat are super- added those of constant employment. The female patients are employed as much as possible in sewing, knitting, and domestic affairs ; and several of the con- valescents assist the attendants. For the men are se- lected those species of bodily employments most agreeable to the patient, and most opposite to the il- lusions of his disease. Though the effect of fear is not excluded from the institution, yet the love of es- teem is considered as a still more powerful principle ' That fear is not the only motive which operates in produ- cing self-restraint in the minds of maniacs, is evident from its being often exercised in the presence of strangers who are merely passing through the house ; and which, I presume, can only be accounted for from that desire of esteem which has been stated to be a powerful motive to conduct. ' It is, probably, from encouraging the action of this princi- ple, that so much advantage has been found in this institution, from treating the patient as much in the manner of a ra- tional being as the state of his mind will possibly allow. The superintendent is particularly attentive to this point in his conversation with the patients. He introduces such topics as he knows will most interest them ; and which at the same time allows them to display their knowledge to the greatest advan- tage. If the patient is an agriculturist, he asks him questions relative to his art ; and frequently consults him upon any occasion in which his knowledge may be useful. I have heart? one of the worst patients in the house, who, previously to hiz indisposition, had been a considerable grazier, give very sen- sible directions for the treatment of a diseased cow. ' These considerations are undoubtedly very material, as they regard the comfort of insane persons ; but they are of far greater importance as they relate to the cure of the disorder. The patient, feeling himself of some consequence, is induced to support it by the exertion of his reason, and by restraining those dispositions which, if indulged, would lessen the respect- ful treatment he receives, or lower his character in the eyes of his companions and attendants. ' They who are unacquainted with the character of insane persons are very apt to converse with them in a childish, or, which is worse, in a domineering manner ; and hence it has been frequently remarked by the patients at the Retreat, that a stranger who has visited them seemed to imagine they were children. ' The natural tendency of such treatment is to degrade the mind of the patient, and to make him indifferent to those moral feelings which, under judicious direction and encouragement, are found capable, in no small degree, to strengthen the power of self-restraint, and which render the resort to coercion in many cases unnecessary. Even when it is absolutely requisite to employ coercion, if the patient promises to control himself on its removal, great confidence is generally placed upon his word. I have known patients, such is their sense of honour and moral obligation under this kind of engagement, hold for a long time a successful struggle with the violent propensities of their disorder ; and such attempts ought to be sedulously encouraged by the attendant. ' Hitherto, we have chiefly considered those modes of indu- cing the patient to control his disordered propensities which arise from an application to the general powers of the mind ; but considerable advantage may certainly be derived, in this part of moral management, from an acquaintance with the pre- vious habits, manners, and prejudices of the individual. Nor must we forget to call to our aid, in endeavouring to promote self-restraint, the mild but powerful influence of the precepts.of our holy religion. Where these have beeii strongly imbued in early life, they become little less than principles of our nature : and their restraining power is frequently felt, even under the delirious excitement of insanity. To encourage the influence of religious principles over the mind of the insane is considered of great consequence as a means of cure. Fortius purpose, as Avell as for others still more important, it is certainly right to promote in the patient an attention to his accustomed modes ot paying homage to his Maker. • ' Many patients attend the religious meetings of the society held in the city; and most of them are assembled, on a first day afternoon, at which time the superintendent reads to them several chapters in the Bible. A profound silence generally ensues ; during which, as well as at the time of reading, it is very gratifying to observe their orderly conduct, and the de- gree in which those who are much disposed to action restrain their different propensities.' — (p. 158 — 161.) Very little dependence is to be placed on medicine alone for the cure of insanity. The experience, at least, of this well-governed institution is very unfavour- able to its efficacy. Where an insane person happens to be diseased in body as well as mind, medicine is not only of as great importance to him as to any other person, but much greater ; for the diseases of the body are commonly found to aggravate those of the mind ; but against mere insanity, unaccompanied by bodily derangement, it appears to be almost powerless. There is one remedy, however, which is very fre- quently employed at the Retreat, and which appears to have been attended with the happiest effect, and that is the warm bath.— the least recommended, and the most important, of all remedies in melancholy madness. Under this mode of treatment, the number AMERICA 73 of recoveries, in cases of melancholia, has been very Unusual ; though no advantage has been found from it in the case of mania. At the end of the work is given a table of all the cases which have occurred in the institution from its first commencement. It appears that, from its open- ing in the year 1796 to the end of 1811, 149 patients have been admitted. Of this number 61 have been re- cent cases : 31 of these patients have been maniacal ; of whom 2 died, 6 remain, 21 have been discharged perfectly recovered, 2 so much improved as not to re- quire further confinement. The remainder, 30 recent cases, have been those of melancholy madness; of whom 5 have died, 4 remain, 19 have been discharged cured, and 2 so much improved as not to require fur- ther confinement. The old cases, or, as they are com- monly termed, incurable cases, are divided into 61 cases of mania, 21 of melancholia, and 6 of dementia; affording the following tables ; — * Mania. 11 died. 31 remain in the house. 5 have been removed by their friends Improved. 10 have been discharged perfectly recovered. 4 so much improved as not to require further confinement.' ' Melancholia. 6 died. 6 remain. 1 removed somewhat improved. 6 perfectly cured. 2 so much improved as not to require further confinement.' ' Dementia. 2 died. 2 remain. 2 discharged as unsuitable objects. The following statement shows the ages of patients at present in the house : — « 15 to 20 inclusive 2 20 to 30 — 8 30 to 40 — 12 40 to 50 — 7 60 to 70 — ' 11 70 to 80 — 4 80 to 90 — 2' Of 79 patients it appears that ' 12 went mad from disappointed affections. 2 from epilepsy. 49 from constitutional causes. 8 from failure in business. 4 from hereditary disposition to madness. 2 from injury of the skull. 1 from mercury. 1 from parturition.' The following case is extremely curious ; and we wish it had been authenticated by name, place, and signature. ' A young woman, who was employed as a domestic servant by the father of the relater, when he was a boy, became insane, and at length sunk into a state of perfect idiocy. In this condition she remained for many years, when she was attacked by a ty- phus fever ; and my friend, having then practised some time, attended her. He was surprised to observe, as the fever ad- vanced, a development of the mental powers. During that period of the fever, when others were delirious, this patient was entirely rational. She recognized in the face of her medical attendant the son of her old master, whom she had known so many- years before; and she related many circumstances re- specting his family, and others which had happened to herself in her earlier days. But, alas ! it was only the gleam of rea- son. As the fever abated, clouds again enveloped the mind • she sunk into her former deplorable state, and remained in it until her death, which happened a few years afterwards. I leave to the metaphysical reader further speculation on this, certainly, very curious case.'— (p. 137.) Upon the whole, we have little doubt that this is the .best managed asylum for the insane that has ever yet been established; and a part of the explanation no doubt is, that the Quakers take more pains than other people with their madmen. A mad Quaker belongs to a small and a rich sect ; and is, therefore, of greater importance than any other mad person of the same degree in life. After every allowance, however, which can be made for the feelings of sectaries, exer- cised towards their own disciples, the Quakers, it must be allowed, are a very charitable and humane people. They are always ready with their money, and, what is of far more importance, with their time and atten- tion, for every variety of human misfortune. They seem to set themselves down systematically before the difficulty, with the wise conviction that it is to be lessened or subdued only by great labour and thought ; and that it is always increased by indolence andneglect. In this instance ? they have set an example of courage, patience, and kindness, which cannot be too highly commended, or too widely diffused ; and which, we are convinced, will gradually bring into re- pute a milder and better method of treating the insane. For the aversion to inspect places of this sort is so great, and the temptation to neglect and oppress the insane is so strong,, both from the love of power and the improbability of detection, that we have no doubt of the existence of great abuses in the interior of many madhouses. A great deal has been done for prisons ; but the order of benevolence has been broken through by this preference ; for the voice of misery may soon- er come up from a dungeon, than the oppression of a madman be healed by the hand of justice.* AMERICA. (Edinburgh Review, 1818.) 1. Travels in Canada and the United States, in 1816 and 1817. By Lieutenant Francis Hall, 14th Light Dragoons, H. P. London. Longman & Co. 1818. 2. Journal of Travels in the United States of North America, and in Lower Canada, performed in the year 1817, ifc. Sfc. By John Palmer. London. Sherwood, Neely & Jones. 1818. 3. A Narrative of a Journey of Five Thousand Miles through the Eastern and Western States of America ; contained in Eight Reports, addressed to the Thirty-nine English Fami lies by whom the Author was deputed, in June, 1817, to ascer- tain whether any and what Part of the United States would be suitable for their Residence. With Remarks on Mr. Birk- beck's ' Notes' and ' Letters? By Henry Bradshaw Fearon. London. Longman & Co. 1818. 4. Travels in the Interior of America, in the Years 1809, 1810, and 1811, &fc. By John Bradbury, F. L. S. Lond. 8vo. London. Sherwood, Neely & Jones. 1817. These four books are all very well worth reading, to any person who feels, as we do, the importance and interest of the subject of which they treat. They contain a great deal of information and amusement ; and will probably decide the fate, and direct the foot- steps, of many human beings, seeking a better lot than the Old World can afford them. Mr. Hall is a clever, lively man, very much above the common race of wri- ters ; with very liberal and reasonable opinions, which he expresses with great boldness, — and an inexhausti- ble fund of good humour. He has the elements of wit in him ; but sometimes is trite and flat when he means * to be amusing. He writes verses, too, and is occa- sionally long and metaphysical : but upon the whole, we think highly of Mr. Hall ; and deem him, if he is not more than twenty-five years of age, an extraordi- nary young man. He is not the less extraordinary for being a lieutenant of Light Dragoons — as it is certainly somewhat rare to meet with an original thinker,, an indulgent judge of manners, and a man tolerant of neglect and familiarity, in a youth covered with tags, feathers, and martial foolery. Mr. Palmer is a plain man, of good sense and slow judgment. Mr. Bradbury is a botanist, who lived a good deal among the savages, but worth attending to. Mr. Fearon is a much abler writer than either of the two last, but no lover of Ameriea, — and a little givea to exaggeration in his views of vices and prejudices. *The Society of Friends have been entremely fortunate in the choice of their male and female superintendents at the asy«» lum, Mr. and Mrs. Jephson. It is not easy to find a greater combination of good sense and good feeling than these two- persons possess :— but then the merit of selecting them rests with their employers* 74 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. Among other faults with which our government is chargeable, the vice of impertinence has lately crept into our cabinet ; and the Americans have been treated with ridicule and contempt. But they are becoming a little too powerful, we take it, for this cavalier sort of management ; and are increasing with a rapidity which is really no matter of jocularity to us, or the other powers of the Old World. In 1791, Baltimore contained 13,000 inhabitants; in 1810, 46,000; in 1817, 60,000. In 1790, it possessed 13,000 tons of shipping ; in 1 798, 59,000 ; in 1805, 72,000 ; in 1810, 103,444. The progress of Philadelphia is as follows : Houses. Inhabitants. ♦ In 1683 there were in the city 80 and 600 1700 ... 700 5,000 1749 - - - 2,076 15,000 1760 - - - 2,969 20,000 1769 - - - 4,474 30,000 1776 - - - 5,460 40,000 1783 - - - 6,000 42,000 1806 - - - 13,000 90,000 1810 - - - 22,769 100,000 'Now it is computed there are at least 120,000 inhabitants in the city and suburbs, of which 10,000 are free coloured peo- ple.'— Palmer, p. 254, 255. The population of New York (the city), in 1805, was 60,000 ; it is now 120,000. Their shipping, at present, amounts to 300,000 tons. The population of the state of New York was, at the accession of his present ma- jesty, 97,000, and is now nearly 1 ,000,000. Kentucky, first settled in 1773, had, in 1792, a population of 100,- 000 ; and in 1810, 406,000. Morse reckons the Avhole population of the western territory, in 1790, at 6,000 ; in 1810 it was near half a million ; and will probably exceed a million in 1820. These, and a thousand other equally strong proofs of their increasing strength, tend to extinguish pleasantry and provoke thought. We were surprised and pleased to find from these accounts that the Americans on the Red River and the Arkansas River have begun to make sugar and wine. Their importation of wool into this country is becom- ing also an object of some consequence ; and they have inexhaustible supplies of salt and coal. But one of the great sources of wealth in America is and will be an astonishing command of inland navigation. The Mississippi, flowing from the north to the Gulf of Mex- ico, through seventeen degrees of latitude ; the Ohio and the Alleghany almost connecting it with the Nor- thern Lakes ; the Wabash, the Illinois, the Missouri, the Arkansas, the Red River, flowing from the con- fines of New Mexico ; — these rivers, all navigable, and most of them already frequented by steam-boats, con- stitute a facility of internal communication not, we believe, to be paralleled in the whole world. One of the great advantages of the American gov- ernment is its cheapness. The American king has about £5000 per annum, the vice-king £1000. They hire their Lord Liverpool at about a thousand per annum, and their Lord Sidmouth (a good bargain) at the same sum. Their Mr. Crokers are inexpressibly reasonable, — somewhere about the price of an Eng- lish door-keeper, or bearer of mace. Life, however, seems to go on very well, in spite of these low sala- ries ; and the purposes of government to be very fairly answered. Whatever may be the evils of universal suffrage in other countries, they have not yet been felt in America ; and one thing at least is established by her experience, that this institution is not necessa- rily followed by those tumults, the dread of which ex- cites so much apprehension in this country. In the most democratic states, where the payment of direct taxes is the only qualification of a voter, the elections are carried on with the utmost tranquillity ; and the whole business, by taking votes in each parish or sec- tion, concluded all over the state in a single day. A great deal is said by Fearon about Caucus, the cant word of the Americans for the committees and party meetings in which the business of elections is prepa- red — the influence of which he seems to consider as prejudicial. To us, however, it appears to be nothing more than the natural, fair, and unavoidable influence which talent, popularity, and activity always must have upon such occasions. What other influence can the leading characters of the democratic party in Congress possibly possess ? Bribery is entirely out ot the question— equally so is the influence of family and fortune. What then can they do, with their caucus, or without it, but recommend ? And what charge is it against the American government to say that those members of whom the people have the highest opinion meet together to consult whom they shall recommend for president, and that their recommendation is sue cessful in their different states? Could any friend to good order wish other means to be employed, or other results to follow ? No statesman can wish to exclude influence, but only bad influence ; — not the influence of sense and character, but the influence of money and punch. A very disgusting feature in the character of tht present English government is its extreme timidity and the cruelty and violence to which its timidity gives birth. Some hotheaded young person, in de- fending the principles of liberty, and attacking those abuses to which all governments are liable, passes the bounds of reason and moderation, or is thought to have passed them by those whose interest it is to think so. What matters it whether he has or not? You are strong enough to let him alone. With such insti tutions as ours he can do no mischief; perhaps he may owe his celebrity to your opposition ; or, if he must be opposed, write against him, — set Candidus, Scrutator, Vindex, or any of the conductitious pen- men of government to write him down ; — any thing but the savage spectacle of a poor wretch, perhaps a very honest man, contending in vain against the weight of an immense government, pursued by a zea- lous attorney, and sentenced, by some candidate, per- haps, for the favour of the crown, to the long miseries of the dungeon.* ^* A still more flagrant instance may be found in our late suspensions of the habeas corpus act. Nothing was trusted to the voluntary activity of a brave people, thoroughly attached to their government — nothing to the good sense and prudence of the gentlemen and yeomen of the country — nothing to a little forbear ance, patience, and watchfulness. There was no other security but despotism ; nothing but the alienation of that right which no king nor minister can love, and which no human beings but the English have had the valour to win, and the prudence to keep. The contrast between our government and that of the Americans, upon the subject of suspending the habeas corpus, is drawn in so very able a manner by Mr. Hall, that we must give the passage at large. ' It has ever been the policy of the federalists to " strengthen the hands of government." No measure can be imagined more effectual for this purpose, than a law which gifts the ru- ling po vers with infallibility ; but no sooner was it enacted, than it revealed its hostility to the principles of the American system, by generating oppression under the cloak of defending social order. ' If there ever was a period when circumstances seemed to justify what are called energetic measures, it was during the administrations of Mr. Jefferson and his successor. A disas- * A great deal is said about the independence and integrity of English judges. In causes between individuals they are strictly independent and upright : but they have strong temp- tations to be otherwise, in cases where the crown prosecutes for libel. Such cases often involve questions of party, and are viewed with great passion and agitation by the minister and his friends. Judges have often favours to ask for their friends and families, and dignities to aspire to for themselves. It is human nature, that such powerful motives should create a great bias against the prisoner. Suppose the chief justice of any court to be in an infirm state of health, and a govern- ment libel-cause to be tried by one of the puisne judges,— of what immense importance is it to that man to be called a strong friend to government— how injurious to his natural and fair hopes to be called lukewarm, or addicted to popular no- tions—and how easily the runners of the government would attach such a character to him ! The useful inference from these observations is, that, in all government cases, the jury, instead of being influenced by the cant phrases about the in- tegrity of English judges, should suspect the operation of such motives — watch the judge with the most accurate jealousy— and compel him to be honest, by throwing themselves into th« opposite scale whenever he is inclined to be otherwise. AMERICA. 75 irous war began to rage, not only on the frontiers, but in the very penetralia of the republic. To oppose veteran troops, the ablest generals, and the largest fleets in the world, the American government had raw recruits, officers who had never seen an enemy, half a dozen frigates, and a population Unaccustomed to sacrifices, and impatient of taxation. To crown these disadvantages, a most important section of the Union, the New England states, openly set up the standard of separation and rebellion. A convention sat for the express purpose of thwarting the measures of government ; while the press and pulpit thundered every species of denunciation against whoever should assist their own country in the hour of danger.* And this was the work, not of jacobins and de- mocrats, but of the staunch friends of religion and social order, who had been so zealously attached to the government, while it was administered by their own party, that they suffered not the popular breath " to visit the president's breech too roughly." • The course pursued, both by Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madi- son throughout this season of difficulty, merits the gratitude of their country, and the imitation of all governments pretending to be free. ' So far were they from demanding any extraordinary pow- ers from Congress, that they did not even enforce, to their full extent, those with which they were by the constitution invest- ed. The process of reasoning, on which they probably acted, may be thus stated. The majority of the nation is with us, be- cause the war is national. The interests of a minority suffer ; and self-interest is clamorous when injured. It carries its op- position to an extreme inconsistent with its political duty. Shall we leave it in an undisturbed career of faction, or seek to put it down with libel and sedition laws ? In the first case ft will grow bold from impunity ; its proceedings will be more and more outrageous : but every step it takes to thwart us will be a step in favour of the enemy, and, consequently, so much ground lost in public opinion. But, as public opinion is the only instrument by which a minority can convert a majority to its views, impunity, by revealing its motives, affords the su- rest chance of defeating its intent. In the latter case, we quit the ground of reason to take that of force ; we give the fac- tious the advantage of seeming persecuted ; by repressing in- temperate discussion, we confess ourselves liable to be injured by it. If we seek to shield our reputation by a libel-law, we acknowledge, either that our conduct will not bear investiga- tion, or that the people are incapable of distinguishing betwixt truth and falehood : but for a popular government to impeach the sanctity of the nation's judgment is to overthrow the pil- lars of its own elevation. • The event triumphantly proved the correctness of this rea- soning. The federalists awoke from the delirium of factious intoxication, and found themselves covered with contempt and thame. Their country had been in danger, and they gloried in her distress. She had exposed herself to privations from which they had extracted profit. In her triumphs they had no part, except that of having mourned over and depreciated them. Since the war federalism has been scarcely heard of.' — Hall, 508—511. The Americans, we believe, are the first persons who have discarded the tailor in the administration of justice, and his auxiliary the barber — two persons of endless importance in codes and pandects of Europe. A judge administers justice, without a calorific wig and. parti-coloured gown, in a coat and pantaloons. He is obeyed, however ; and life and property are not badly protected in the United States. We shall be denounced by the laureate as atheists and jacobins ; but we must say, that we have doubts whether one Atom of useful influence is added to men in important situations by any colour, quantity, or configuration of cloth and hair. The true progress of refinement, we conceive, is to discard all the mountebank drapery of barbarous ages. One row of gold and fur falls off af- ter another from the robe of power, and is picked up and worn by the parish beadle and the exhibiter of wild beasts. Meantime, the afflicted wiseacre mourns over equality of garment ; and wotteth not of two men, whose doublets have cost alike, how one shall command and the other obey. * ' In Boston, associations were entered into for the purpose of preventing the filling up of government loans. Indi- viduals disposed to subscribe were obliged to do it in secret, and conceal their names, as if the action had been dishonest.' — Vide ' Olive Branch,' p. 307. At the same time, immense runs were made by the Boston banks on those of the Central and Southern states ; while the specie thus drained was transmit- ted to Canada, in payment for smuggled goods and British go- vernment bills, which were drawn in Quebec, and disposed of in great numbers, on advantageous terms, to monied men in the states. Mr. Henry's mission is the best proof of the result anticipated by our government from these proceedings in New England. ^Jhe dress of lawyers, is, however, at all events, of less importance than their charges. Law is cheap in America : in England, it is better, in a mere pecuni- ary point of view, to give up forty pounds than to con- tend for it in a court of common law. It costs that sum in England to win a cause ; and, in the court of equity, it is better to abandon five hundred or a thou- sand pounds than to contend for it. We mean to say nothing disrespectful of the chancellor — who is an upright judge, a very great lawyer, and zealous to do all he can ; but we believe the Court of Chancery to be in a state which imperiously requires legislative correction. We do not accuse it of any malversation, but of a complication, formality, entanglement, and delay, which the life, the wealth, and the patience of man cannot endure. How such a subject comes not to have been taken up in the House of Commons, we are wholly at a loss to conceive. We feel for climb- ing boys as much as anybody can do ; but what is a climbing boy in a chimney to a full-grown suitor in a Master's office ? And whence comes it, in the midst of ten thousand compassions and charities, that no Wilberforce, or Sister Fry, has started up for the sui- tors in Chancery?* and why, in the name of these af- flicted and attorney- worn people, are there united in their judge three or four offices, any one of which is sufficient to occupy the whole time of a very able and active man ? There are no very prominent men at present in America ; at least none whose fame is strong enough for exportation. Monroe is a man of plain, unaffected good sense. Jefferson, we believe, is still alive ; and has always been more remarkable, perhaps, for the early share he took in the formation of the republic, than from any very predominant superiority of under- standing. Mr. Hall made him a visit : ' I slept at midnight at Monticello, and left it in the monl ing with such a feeling as the traveller quits the mouldering remains of a Grecian temple, or the pilgrim a fountain in the desert. It would indeed argue great torpor both of un- derstanding and heart, to have looked without veneration and interest on the man who drew up the declaration of American independence ; who shared in the councils by which her freedom was established; whom the unbought voice of his fellow-citizens called to the exercise of a dig- nity from which his own moderation impelled him, when such example was most salutary, to withdraw ; and who, while he dedicates the evening of his glorious days to the pursuits of science and literature, shuns none of the hum- bler duties of private life ; but, having filled a seat higher than that of kings, succeeds with greater dignity to that of the good neighbour, and becomes the friendly adviser, law- yer, physician, and even gardener of his vicinity. This is the " still small voice" of philosophy, deeper and holier than the lightnings and earthquakes which have preceded it. What monarch would venture thus to exhibit himself in the nakedness of his humanity ? On what royal brow would the laurel replace the diadem ?' — Hall, 384, 385. Mr. Fearon dined with another of the Ex-Kings, Mr. Adams. : The ex-president is a handsome old gentleman of eighty- four ; — his lady is seventy-six ; — she has the reputation of superior talents, and great literary acquirements. I was not perfectly a stranger here ; as, a few days previous to to this, I had received the honour of an hospitable reception at their mansion. Upon the present occasion the minister (the day being Sunday) was of the dinner party. As the table of a " late King" may amuse some of you, take the following particulars: — first course, a pudding made of Indian corn, molasses, and butter ; — second, veal, bacon, neck of mutton, potatoes, cabbages, carrots, and Indian beans ; Madeira wine, of which each drank two glasses. We sat down to dinner at one o'clock ; at two, nearly all went a second time to church. For tea, we had pound- cake, sweet bread and butter, and bread made of Indian corn any rye (similar to our brown home-made.) Tea was brought from the kitchen, and handed round by a neat, * This is still one of the great uncorrected evils of the coun- try. Nothing can be so utterly absurd as to leave the head of the Court of Chancery a political officer, and to subject forty millions of litigated property to all the delays and interrup- tions which are occasioned by his present multiplicity of offices. (1839.)— The Chancellor is Speaker of the House of Lords ; he might as well be made Archbishop of Canterbury; — it is one of the greatest of existing follies. 76 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. white servant girl. The topics of conversation were vari- ous. — England, America, religion, politics, literature, sci- ence, Dr. Priestley, Miss Edgeworth, Mrs. Siddons, Mr. Kean, France, Shakspeare, Moore, Lord Byron, Cobbett, American revolution, the traitor General Arnold. « The establishment of this political patriarch consists of a house two stories high, containing, I believe, eight rooms ; of two men and three maid servants ; tbree horses, and a plain carriage. How great is the contrast between this individual — a man of knowledge and information — without pomp, parade, or vicious and expensive establishments, as compared with the costly trappings, the depraved charac- ters, and the profligate expenditure of house, and ? What a lesson in this does America teach ! There are now in this land, no less than three Cincinnati !' — Fearon, 111—113. The travellers agree, we think, in complaining of the insubordination of American children — and do not much like American ladies. In their criticisms upon American gasconade, they forget that vulgar people of all countries are full of gasconade. The Americans love titles. The following extract from the Boston Sentinel, of last August (1817,) is quoted by Mr. Fearon. ' " Dinner to Mr. Adams. — Yesterday a public dinner was given to the Hon. John Q. Adams, in the Exchange Coffee- house, by his fellow-citizens of Boston. The Hon. Wm. Gray presided, assisted by the Hon. Harrison Gray Otis, George Blake, Esq., and the Hon. Jonathan Mason, vice- presidents. Of the guests were, the Hon. Mr. Adams, late president of the United States, his Excellency Governor Brooks, his Honor Lt. Gov. Phillips, Chief Justice Parker, Judge Story, President Kirkland, Gen. Dearborn, Com. Hull, Gen. Miller, several of the reverend clergy, and many more public officers, and strangers of eminence." ' They all, in common with Mr. Birkbeck, seem to be struck with the indolence of the American character. Mr. Fearon makes the charge ; and gives us below the right explanation of its cause. ' The life of boarders at an American tavern, presents the most senseless and comfortless mode of killing time which I have ever seen. Every house of this description that I have been in, is thronged to excess ; and there is not a man who appears to have a single earthly object in view, except spitting, and smoking segars. I have not seen a book in the nands of any person since I left Philadelphia. Objec- tionable as these habits are, they afford decided evidence of the prosperity of that country, which can admit so large a body of its citizens to waste in indolence three-fourths of their lives, and would also appear to hold out encourage- ment to Englishmen with English habits, who could retain their industry amid a nation of indolence, and have suffi- cient firmness to live in America, and yet bid defiance to the deadly example of its natives.' — Fearon, p. 252, 253. Yet this charge can hardly apply to the northeast- ern parts of the Union. The following sample of American vulgarity is not unentertaining. 'On arriving at the tavern door the landlord makes his ap- pearance. — Landlord. Your servant, gentlemen, this is a fine day. Answer. Very fine. — Land. You've got two nice crea- tures, they are right elegant matches. Ans. Yes, we bought them for matches. Land. They cost a heap of dollars, (a pause, and knowing look) ; 200 I calculate. Ans. Yes, they cost a good sum.— Land. Possible ! (a pause) ; going westward to Ohio, gentlemen? Ans. We are going to Philadelphia. — Land. Philadelphia, ah ! that's a dreadful large place, three or four times as big as Lexington. Ans. Ten times as large. Land. Is it by George! what a mighty heap of houses, (a pause); but I reckon you was not reared in Philadelphia. Ans. Philadelphia is not our native place. — Land. Perhaps away up in Canada. Ans. No; we are from England. Land. Is it possible', well, I calculated you were from abroad, (pause) ; how long have you been from the old country ? Ans. We left England last March. — Land. And in August here you are in Kentuclt. Well, I should haxe guessed you had been in the State some years; you speak almost as good English as we do! 'This dialogue is not a literal copy, but it embraces most of the frequent and improper applications of words used in the back country, with a few New England phrases. By the log- house farmer and tavern keeper they are used as often, and as erroneously as they occur in the above discourse.' — Palmer, p. 129, 130. This is of course intended as a representation of the manners of the low, or at best, the middling class of people in America The four travellers, of whose works we are gft/ng an account, made extensive tours in every part or America, as well in the old as in the new settlements ; and, generally speaking, we should say their testimo- ny is in favour of American manners. We must, ex- cept, perhaps, Mr. Fearon — and yet he seems to have very little to say against them. Mr. Palmer tells us that he found his companions, officers and farmers, unobtrusive, civil, and obliging; that what the servants do for you, they do with alacrity; that at their tables d'hote ladies are treated with great politeness. We have real pleasure in making the following extract from Mr. Bradbury's tour. 'In regard to the manners of the people west of the Alle- ghanies, it would be absurd to expect that a general character could be now formed, or that it will be for many years to come. The population is at present compounded of a great number of nations, not yet amalgamated, consisting of emigrants from every State in the Union, mixed with English, Irish, Scotch. Dutch, Swiss, Germans, French, and almost from every country in Europe. In some traits they partake in common with thf. inhabitants of the Atlantic States, which results from th* nature of their government. That species of hauteur which one class of society in some countries shows in their inter course with the other, is here utterly unknown. By theii constitution, the existence of a privileged order, vested by birth with hereditary privileges, honours, or emoluments, ia forever interdicted. If therefore, we should here expect to find that contemptuous feeling in man for man, we should naturally examine amongst those clothed with judicial or military authority ; but we should search in vain. The justice on the bench, or the officer in the field, is respected and obeyed whilst discharging the functions of his office, as the representa tive or agent of the law, enacted for the good of all; but should he be tempted to treat even the least wealthy of his neigh bours or fellow citizens with contumely, he would soon find that he could not do it with impunity. Travellers from Eu rope, in passing through the western country, or indeed any part of the United States, ought to be previously acquainted with this part of the American character, and more particularly if they have been in the habit of treating with contempt, or irritating with abuse, those whom accidental circumstances may have placed in a situation to administer to their wants Let no one here indulge himself in abusing the waiter or ostler at an inn; that waiter or ostler is probably a citizen, and does not, nor cannot conceive, that a situation in which he dis- charges a duty to society, not in itself dishonourable, should subject him to insult: but this feeling, so far as I have expe- rienced, is entirely defensive. I have travelled near 10,000 miles in the United States, and never met with the least inci- vility or affront. ' The Americans, in general, are accused by travellers, of being inquisitive. If this be a crime, the western people are guilty ; but, for my part, I must say that it is a practice that I never was disposed to complain of, because 1 always found them as ready to answer a question, as to ask one, and there- fore I always came off a gainer ».."" this kind of barter; and if any traveller does not, it is his own iault. As this leads me to notice their general conduct to strangers, I feel myself bound, by gratitude and regard to truth, to speak of their hospitality. In my travels through the inhabited parts of the United States, not less than 2000 miles was through parts where there were no taverns, and where a traveller is under the necessity of appealing to the hospitality of the inhabitants. In no on» instance has my appeal been fruitless ; although in many cases, the furnishing of abed has been evidently attended with incon- venience, and in a great many instances no remuneration woula be received. Other European travellers have experienced thi* liberal spirit of hospitality, and some have repaid it by ca- lumny.'— Bradbury p. 304—306. We think it of so much importance to do just^e to other nations, and to lessen that hatred and contempt which race feels for race, that we subjoin two short passages from Mr. Hall to the same effect. •I had bills on Philadelphia, and applied to a respectable store-keeper, that is tradesman, of the village, to cash me one; the amount, however, was beyond any remittance he had occa- sion to make, but he immediately offered me whatever sum I might require for my journey, with no better security than my word, for its repayment at Philadelphia: he even insisted on my taking more than I mentioned as sufficient. I do not believe that this trait of liberality would surprise an American; for no one in the States, to whom I mentioned it, seemed to consider it as more than any stranger of respectable appearance might have looked for, in similar circumstances: but it mighC well surprise an English traveller, who had been told, as I had T that the Americans never failed to cheat and insult every En- gl is.ini an who travelled througa their country, especially if thev kuew him to be an officer. This latter particular they never failed to inform themselves of, for they are by ■• AMERICA. 77 means bashful in inquiries: but if the discovery operated in any way upon their behaviour, it was rather to my advantage; nor did 1 meet with a single case of incivility between Canada and Charleston, except at the Shenandoah Point, from a drunken English deserter. My testimony, in this particular, will certainly not invalidate the complaints of many other travellers, who, I doubt not, have frequently encountered rude treatment, and quite as frequently deserved it; but it will at least prove the possibility of traversing the United States without insult or interruption, and even of being occasionally surprised by liberality and kindness.'— Hall, p. 255, 256. 'I fell into very pleasant society at Washington. Strangers who intend staying some days in a town, usually take lodgings at a boarding-house, in preference to a tavern: in this way they obtain the best society the place affords; for there are always gentlemen, frequently ladies, either visitors or tempo- rary residents, who live in this manner, to avoid the trouble of housekeeping. At Washington, during the sittings of Con- gress, the boarding-houses are divided into messes, according to the political principles of the inmates, nor is a stranger ad- mitted without some introduction, and the consent of the whole company. I chanced to join a democratic mess, and name a few of its members with gratitude, for the pleasure their society gave me — Commodore Decatur and his lady, the Abbe Correa, the great botanist and plenipotentiary of Por- tugal, the Secretary of the Navy, the Secretary of the Navy Board, known as the author of a humorous publication entitled " John Bull and Brother Jonathan," with eight or ten members of Congress, principally from the western States, which are generally considered as most decidedly hostile to England, but whom I did not on this account find less good-humoured and courteous. It is from thus living in daily intercourse with the leading characters of the country, that one is enabled to judge with some degree of certainty of the practices of its government; for to know the paper theory is nothing, unless it be compared with the instruments employed to carry it into effect. A political constitution maybe nothing but a cabalistic form, to extort money and power from the people; but then the jugglers must be in the dark, and "no admittance behind the curtain." This way of living affords too the best insight into the best part of society: for if in a free nation the deposi- tories of the public confidence be ignorant or vulgar, it is a very fruitless search to look for the opposite qualities in those they represent ; whereas, if these be well informed in mind and manners, it proves at the least an inclination towards knowledge and refinement in the general mass of citizens by whom they are selected. My own experience obliges me to a favourable verdict in this particular. I found the little circle into which I had happily fallen full of good sense and good humour, and never quitted it without feeling myself a gainer, on the score either of useful information or of social enioy- ment.'— Hall, p. 329—331. In page 252 Mr. Hall pays some very handsome compliments to the gallantry, high feeling, and hu- manity of the American troops. Such passages reflect the highest honour upon Mr. Hall. They are full of courage as well as kindness, and will never be forgiven at home. Literature the Americans have none — no native literature, we mean. It is all imported. They had a Franklin, indeed ; and may afford to live for half a century on his fame. There is, or was, a Mr. Dwight, who wrote some poems ; and his baptismal name was Timothy. There is also a small account of Virginia by Jefferson, and an epic by Joel Barlow ; and some pieces of pleasantry by Mr. Irving. But why should the Americans write books, when a six weeks' passage brings them, in their own tongue, our sense, science, and genius, in bales and hogsheads ? Prairies, steam- boats, grist-mills, are their natural objects for centu- ries to come. Then, when they have got to the Pacific Ocean, epic poems, plays, pleasures of memory, and all the elegant gratifications of an ancient people who have tamed the wild earth, and set down to amuse themselves. This is the natural march of human af- fairs. The Americans, at least in the old States, are a very religious people : but there is no sect there which en- joys the satisfaction of excluding others from civil offices ,• nor does any denomination of Christians take for their support a tenth of produce. Their clergy, however, are respectable, respected, and possess no small share of influence. The places of worship in Philadelphia in 1810, were as follows : Presbyterian, 8; Episcopalian, 4 j Methodists, 5 ; Catholic, 4; Bap- tist, 5 ; Quakers, 4 ; Fighting Quakers, 1 ; Lutheran, 3; Calvinist, 3; Jews, 2; Universalists, 1 ; Swedish Lutheran, 1 ; Moravian, 1 ; Congregationalists, 1 ; Unitarians,' 1 ; Covenanters, 1 ; Black Baptists, 1 j Black Episcopalians, 1 ; Black Methodists, 2. The Methodists, Mr. Palmer tells us, are becoming the most numerous sect in the United States. Mr. Fearon gives us this account of the state of re ligion in New York. < Upon this interesting topic I would repeat, what indeed you are already acquainted with, that legally there is the most unlimited liberty. There is no state religion, and no government prosecution of individuals for conscience sake. Whether those halcyon days, which I think would attend a similar state of things in England, are in existence here, must be left for future observation. There are five Dutch Reformed churches; six Presbyterian ; three Associated Re- formed ditto; one Associated Presbyterian; one Reformed ditto; five Methodist; two ditto for blacks; one German Reformed; one Evangelical Lutheran; one Moravian; four Trinitarian Baptist; one Universalist; two Catholic; three Quaker; eight Episcopalian; one Jew's Synagogue; and to this I would add a small Meeting which is but little known, at which the priest is dispensed with, every member following what they call the apostolic plan of instructing each other, and " building one another up in their most holy faith." The Presbyterian and Episcopalian, or Church of England sects, take the precedence in numbers and in respectability. Their ministers receive from two to eight thousand dollars per annum. All the churches are well filled; they are the fashionable places for display; and the sermons and talents of the minister offer never-ending sub- jects of interest when social converse has been exhausted upon the bad conduct and inferior nature of niggars (ne- groes); the price of flour at Liverpool; the capture of the Guerriere; and the battle of New Orleans. The perfect equality of all sects seems to have deadened party feeling : controversy is but little known.' — Fearon, p. 45, 46. The absence of controversy, Mr. Fearon seems to imagine, has produced indifference : and he heaves a sigh to the memory of departed oppression. * Can it be possible (he asks) that the non-existence of reli- gious oppression has lessened religious knowledge, and made men superstitiously dependent upon out- ward form, instead of internal purity ? ' To which question (a singular one from an enlightened man like Mr. Fearon) , we answer, that the absence of religious oppression has not lessened religious knowledge, but theological animosity ; and made men more dependent upon the pious actions, and less upon useless and un- intelligible wrangling.* The great curse of America is the institution of slavery — of itself far more than the foulest blot upon their national character, and an evil which counter balances all the excisemen, licensers, and tax-gather- ers of England. No virtuous man ought to trust his own character, or the character of his children, to the demoralizing effects produced by commanding slaves. Justice, gentleness, pity, and humility, soon give way before them. Conscience suspends its functions. The love of command — the impatience of restraint, get the better of every other feeling ; and cruelty has no other limit than fear. * "There must doubtless," says Mr. Jefferson, "be an unhappy influence on the manners of the people produced by the existence of slavery among us. The whole com- merce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous passions : the most unremitting despo- tism on the one part, and degrading submissions on the other. Our children see this, and learn to imitate it; for man is an imitative animal. The parent storms, the child looks on, catches the lineaments of wrath, puts on the same airs in the circle of smaller slaves, gives loose to the worst of passions; and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, cannot but be stamped by it with odious pecu- liarities. The man must be a prodigy who can retain Ms morals and manners undepraved by such circumstances. ,, ' Notes, p. 251.— HaU, p. 459. The following picture of a slave song is quoted by Mr. Hall from the " Letters on Virginia." 1 "I took the boat this morning, and crossed the ferry over to Portsmouth, the small town which I told you is opposite to this place. It was court day, and a large crowd of people was gathered about the door of the court-house. * Mr. Fearon mentions a religious lottery for building a Presbyterian church. What will Mr. Littleon say to this? he is hardly prepared, we suspect, for this union of Calvin and the Little Go. Every advantage will be made of it by the wit and eloquence of his fiscal opponent, nor vi* t paas unheeded by Mr. Bish. 78 ^ WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. I had hardly got upon the steps to look in, when my ears were assailed by the voice of singing ; and turning round to discover from what quarter it came, I saw a group of about thirty negroes, of different sizes and ages, following a rough-looking white man, who sat carelessly lolling in his sulky. They had just turned round the corner, and were coming up the main street to pass by the spot where I stood, on their way out of town. As they came nearer, I saw some of then loaded with chains to prevent their escape; while others had hold of each other's hands, strongly grasped, as if to support themselves in their affliction. I particularly- noticed a poor mother, with an infant sucking at her breast as she walked along, while two small children had hold of her apron on either side, almost running to keep up with the rest. They came along singing a little wild hymn, of sweet and mournful melody, flying, by a divine instinct of the heart, to the consolation of religion, the last refuge of the unhappy, to support them in their distress. The sulky now stopped before the tavern, at a little distance beyond the court-house, and the driver got out. "My dear sir," said I to a person who stood near me, "can you tell me what these poor people have been doing ? What is their crime? and what is to be their punishment?" "0," said he, "it's nothing at all, but a parcel of negroes sold to Carolina; and that man is their driver, who has bought them." "But what have they done, that they should be sold into banishment?" "Done," said he "nothing at all, that I know of ; their masters wanted money, I suppose, and these drivers give good prices." Here the driver hav- ing supplied himself with brandy, and his horse with water (the poor negroes of course wanted nothing,) stepped into his chair again, cracked his whip, and drove on, while the miserable exiles followed in funeral procession behind him."— Hall, 358—360. The law by which siaves are governed in the Caroli- nas, is a provincial law as old as 1740, but made per- petual in 1783. By this law it is enacted, that every negro shall be presumed a slave unless the contrary- appear. The 9th clause allows two justices of the peace, and three freeholders, power to put them to any manner of death ; the evidence against them may be without oath. — No slave is to traffic on his own ac- count. — Any person murdering a slave is to«pay 100Z. — orl4Z. if he cuts out the tongue of a slave. — Any white man meeting seven slaves together on an high road, may give them twenty lashes each. — No man must teach a slave to write, under penalty of 1001. currency. We have Mr. Hall's authority for the ex- istence and enforcement of this law at the present day. Mr. Fearon has recorded some facts still more instructive. « Observing a great many coloured people, particularly females, in these boats, I concluded that they were emi- grants, who had proceeded thus far on their route towards a settlement. The fact proved to be, that fourteen of the flats were freighted with human beings for sale. They had been collected in the several states by slave dealers, and shipped from Kentucky for a market. They were dressed up to the best advantage, on the same principle that jockeys do horses upon sale. The following is a specimen of adver- tisements on this subject. "twenty dollars reward "Will be paid for apprehending and lodging in jail, or de- livering to the subscriber, the following slaves, belonging to Joseph Irvin, of Iberville. — TOM, a very light mulatto, blue eyes, 5 feet 10 inches high, appears to be about 35 years of age; an artful fellow— can read and write, and preaches occasionally.— CHARLOTTE, a black wench, round and full faced, tall, straight, and likely — about 25 years of age, and wife of the above named Tom. These slaves decamped from their owner's plantation on the night of the 14th September instant." — Fearon, p. 270. 'The three "African churches," as they are called, are for all those native Americans who are black, or have any shade of colour darker than white. These persons, though many of them are possessed of the rights of citizenship, are not admitted into the churches which are visited by whites. There exists a penal law, deeply written in the mind of the whole white population, which subjects their coloured fel- low-citizens to unconditional contumely and never-ceasing insult. No respectability, however unquestionable, — no property, however large,— no character, however unblem- ished, will gain a man, whose body is (in American esti- mation) cursed with even a twentieth portion of the blood of his African ancestry, admission into society ! ! ! They are considered as mere Pariahs — as outcasts and vagrants upon the face of the earth! I make no reflection upon these things, but leave the facts for your consideration." ' — Hid. p. 168, 169. That such feelings and such practices should exist among men who know the value of liberty, and profess to understand its principles, is the consummation of wickedness. Every American who loves his country, should dedicate his whole life, and every faculty of his soul, to efface this foul stain from its character. If nations rank according to their wisdom and their virtue, what right has the American, a scourger and murderer of slaves, to compare himself with the least and lowest of the European nations? — much more with this great and humane country, where the greatest lord dare not lay a finger upon the meanest peasant? What is freedom, where all are not free? where the greatest of God's blessings is limited. Avith impious caprice, to the colour of the body ? And these are the men who taunt the English with their corrupt Parliament, with their buying and selling votes. Let the world judge which is the most liable to censure — we who, in the midst of our rottenness, have torn off the manacles of slaves all over the world; — or they who, with their idle purity, and useless perfection, have remained mute and careless, while groans echo- ed and whips clanked round the very walls of their spotless Congress. We wish well to America — we re- joice in her prosperity — and are delighted to resist the absurd impertinence with which the character of her people is often treated in this country : but the exist- ence of slavery in America is an atrocious crime, with which no measures can be kept — for which her situa- tion affords no sort of apology — which makes liberty itself distrusted, and the boast of it disgusting. As for emigration, every man, of course, must de- termine for himself. A carpenter under thirty years of age, who finds himself at Cincinnati with "an axe over his shoulder, and ten pounds in his pocket, will get rich in America, if the change of climate does not kill him. So will a farmer who emigrates early with some capital. But any person with tolerable prosper- ity here had better remain where he is. There are considerable evils, no doubt, in England : but it would be madness not to admit, that it is, upon the whole, a very happy country — and we are much mistaken if the next twenty years will not bring with it a great deal of internal improvement. The country has long been groaning under the evils of the greatest foreign war we were ever engaged in ; and we are just begin- ning to look again into our home affairs. Political economy has made an astonishing progress since tbey were last investigated ; and every session of Parlia- ment brushes off some of the cobwebs and dust of our ancestors.* The Apprentice Laws have been s-vept away: the absurd nonsense of the Usury Laws will probably soon follow, Public Education and Saving Banks have been the invention of these last ten years : and the strong fortress of bigotry has been rudely as- sailed. Then, with all its defects, we have a Parlia- ment of inestimable value. If there be a place in any country where 500 well educated men can meet to- gether and talk with impunity of public affairs, and if what they say is published, that country must im- prove. It is not pleasant to emigrate into a country of changes and revolution, the size and integrity ol whose empire no man can predict. The Americans are a very sensible, reflecting people, and have con ducted their affairs extremely well ; but it is scarce!} }>ossible to conceive that such an empire should very ong remain undivided, or that the dwellers on the Columbia should have common interest with the navi- gators of the Hudson and the Delaware. England is, to be sure, a very expensive country ; but a million of millions has been expended in mak- ing it habitable and comfortable ; and this is a con- stant source of revenue, or what is the same thing, a constant diminution of expense to every man living in it. The price an Englishman pays for a turnpike road is not equal to the tenth part of what the delay * In a scarcity which occurred little more than twenty years ago, every judge, (except the Lord Chancellor, then Justice of the Common Pleas, and Serjeant Remington,) when they charged the grand jury, attributed the scarcity to the combinations of the farmers; and complained of it as a very serious evil. Such doctrines would not now be tole- rated in the mouth of a schoolboy. GAME LAWS. 79 ^ould cost him without a turnpike. The New River Company brings water to every inhabitant of London at an infinitely less price than he could dip for it out of the Thames. No country, in fact, is so expensive as one which human beings are just beginning to inhabit ; — where there are no roads, no bridges, no skill, no combination of powers, and no force of capital. How, too, can any man take upon himself to say, that he is so indifferent to his country that he will not begin to love it intensely, when he is 5000 or 6000 miles from it? And what a dreadful disease Nostal- gia must be on the banks of the Missouri ! Severe and painful poverty will drive us all anywhere : but a wise man should be quite sure he has so irresistible a plea, before he ventures on the Great or the Little Wabash. He should be quite sure that he does not go there from ill temper— or to be pitied— or to be re- gretted—or from ignorance of what is to happen to him — or because he is a poet — but because he has not enough to eat here, and is sure of abundance where he is going. GAME LAWS. (Edinburgh Review, 1819.) Three Letters on the Game Laws. Rest Fenner, Black & Co. London, 1818. The evil of the Game Laws, in their present state, has long been felt, and of late years has certainly rather increased than diminished. We believe that they can- not long remain in their present state ; and we are anx- ious to express our opinion of those changes which they ought to experience. We thoroughly acquiesce in the importance of en- couraging those field sports which are so congenial to the habits of Englishmen, and which, in the present state of society, afford the only effectual counterbal- ance to the allurements of great towns. We cannot conceive a more pernicious condition for a great na- tion, than that its aristocracy should be shut up from one year's end to another in a metropolis, while the mass of its rural inhabitants are left to its factors and agents. A great man returning from London to spend his summer in the country, diffuses intelligence, im- proves manners, communicates pleasure, restrains the extreme violence of subordinate politicians, and makes the middling and lower classes better acquaint- ed with, and more attached to their natural leaders. At the same time a residence in the country gives to the makers of laws an opportunity of studying those interests which they may afterwards be called upon to protect and arrange. Nor is it unimportant to the character of the higher orders themselves, that they should pass a considerable part of the year in the midst of these their larger families ; that they should occasionally be thrown among simple, laborious, frugal people, and be stimulated to resist the prodigality of courts, by viewing with their own eyes the merits and the wretchedness of the poor. Laws for the preservation of game are not only of importance, as they increase the amusements of the country, but they may be so constructed as to be per- fectly just. The game which my land feeds is certain- ly mine ; or, in other words, the game which all the land feeds certainly belongs to all the owners of the land ; and the only practical way of dividing it is, to give to each proprieter what he can take on his own ground. Those who contribute nothing to the support of the animal, can have no possible right to a share in the distribution. To say of animals, that they are fera Naiurd, means only, that the precise place of their birth and nurture is not known. How they shall be divided, is a matter of arrangement among those whose collected property certainly has produced and fed them ; but the case is completely made out against those who have no land at all, and who cannot there- fore have been in the slightest degree instrumental to their production. If a large pond were divided by cer- tain marks into four parts, and allotted to that number of proprietors, the fish contained in that pond would be in the same sense, fera: Naturd. Nobody could tell in which particular division each carp had been born and bred. The owners would arrange their respective rights and pretensions in the best way they could but the clearest of all propositions would be, that the four proprietors, among them made a complete title of all the fish ; and that nobody but them had the small- est title to the smallest share. This we say, in answer to those who contend that there is no foundation for any system of game laws ; that animals born wild are the property of the public ; and that their appropria- tion is nothing but tyranny and usurpation. In addition to these arguments, it is perhaps scarce- ly necessary to add, that nothing which is worth hav- ing, which is accessible, and supplied only in limited quantities, could exist at all, if it was not considered as the property of some individual. If every body might take game wherever they found it, there would soon be an end to every species of game. The advan- tage would not be extended to fresh classes, but be an- nihilated for all classes. Besides all this, the privil- ege of killing game could not be granted without the privilege of trespassing on landed property; — an in- tolerable evil, which would entirely destroy the com- fort and privacy of a country fife. But though a system of game laws is of great use in promoting country amusements, and may, in itself, be placed on a footing of justice, its effects, we are sorry to say, are by no means favourable to the morals of the poor. It is impossible to make an uneducated man under- stand in what manner a bird hatched nobody knows where, — to-day living in my field, to morrow in yours, — should be as strictly property as the goose whose whole history can be traced in the most authentic and satisfactory manner, from the egg to the spit. The arguments upon which this depends ^are so con- trary to the notions of the poor — so repugnant to their passions, — and, perhaps, so much above their com- prehension, that they are totally unavailing. The same man who would respect an orchard, a garden, or an hen-roost, scarcely thinks he is committing any fault at all in invading the game-covers of his richer neighbour ; and as soon as he becomes wearied of honest industry, his first resource is in plundering the rich magazine of hares, pheasants, and partridges— the top and bottofn dishes, which on every side of his village are running and flying before his eyes. As these things cannot be done with safety in the day, they must be done in the night ; — and in this manner a lawless marauder is often formed, who proceeds from one infringement of law and property to another, till he becomes a thoroughly bad and corrupted mem- ber of society. These few preliminary observations lead naturally to the two principal considerations which are to be kept in view, in reforming the game laws ; — to pre- serve, as far as is consistent with justice, the amuse- ments of the rich, and to dimmish, as much as possi- ble, the temptations of the poor. And these ends, it seems to us, will be best answered, 1. By abolishing qualifications. 2. By giving to every man a property in the game upon his land. 3. By allowing game to be bought by any body, and sold by its lawful possessors.* Nothing can be more grossly absurd than the pre- sent state of the game laws, as far as they concern the qualification for shooting. In England, no man can possibly have a legal right to kill game, who has not 100L a- year in land rent. With us, in Scotland, the rule is not quite so inflexible, though in principle not very different. — But we shall speak to the case which concerns by far the greatest number ; and cer- tainly it is scarcely possible to imagine a more absurd and capricious limitation. For what possible reason is a man, who has only 901. per annum in land, not to kill the game which his own land nourishes ? If the legislature really conceives, as we have heard sur- mised by certain learned squires, that a person of such a degree of fortune should be confined to profitable pursuits, and debarred from that pernicious idleness into which he would be betrayed by field sports, it would then be expedient to make a qualification for bowls or skittles — to prevent landowners from going * All this has since been established. 80 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. to races, or following a pack of hounds — and to pro- I hibit to men of a certain income, every other species of amusement as well as this. The only instance, I bowever, in which this paternal care is exercised, is that in which the amusement of the smaller land- owner is supposed to interfere with those of his richer neighbour. He may do what he pleases, and elect any other species of ruinous idleness but that in which the upper classes of society are his rivals. Nay, the law is so excessively ridiculous in the case ot small landed proprietors, that on a property of less than 1001. per annum, no human being has the right of shooting. It is not confined, but annihilated. The lord of the manor may be warned off by the proprie- tor ; and the proprietor may be informed against by any body who sees him sporting. The case is still stronger in the instance of large farms. In Northum- berland, and on the borders of Scotland, there are large capitalists who farm to the amount of two or three thousand per aimum, who have the permission of their distant non-resident landlords to do what they please with the game , and yet who dare not fire oil a gun upon their own land. Can any thing be more utterly absurd and preposterous, than that the landlord and the wealthy tenant together cannot make up a title to the hare which is fattened upon the choicest produce of their land ? That the landlord, who can let to farm the fertility of the land for growing wheat, cannot let to farm its power of growing partridges ? That he may reap by deputy, but cannot on that manor shoot by deputy ? Is it possible that any respectable ma- gistrate could fine a farmer for killing a hare upon his own grounds with his landlord's consent, without feel- ing that he was violating every feeling of common sense and justice ? Since the enactment of the game laws, there has sprung up an entirely new species of property, which of course is completely overlooked by their provis- ions. An Englishman may possess a million of money in funds, or merchandize — may be the Baring or the Hope of Europe— provide to government the sudden means of equipping fleets and armies, and yet be with- out the power of smiting a single partridge, though in- vited by the owner of the game td participate in his amusement. It is idle to say that the difficulty may be got over, by purchasing land : the question is, upon what principle of justice can the existence of the diffi- culty be defended ? If the right of keeping men- servants was confined to persons who had more than 100?. a-year in the funds, the difficulty might be got over by every man who would change his landed prop- erty to that extent. But what could justify so capri- cious a partiality to one species of property? There might be some apology for such laws at the time they were made ; but there can be none for their not being now accommodated to the changes which time has introduced. If you choose to exclude poverty from this species of amusement, and to open it to wealth, why is it not opened to every species of wealth? What amusement can there be morally lawful to an holder of turnip land, and criminal in a possessor of exchequer bills ? What delights ought to be tolerated to long annuities, from which wheat and beans should be excluded? What matters whether it is scrip or short-horned cattle ? If the locus quo is conceded— if the trespass is waived — and if the qualification for any amusement is wealth, let it be any provable wealth- Dives agris, dives positis infcenore nummis. It will be very easy for any country gentleman who wishes to monopolize to himself the pleasure of shoot • ing, to let to his tenant every other right attached to the land, except the right of killing game ; and it will be equally easy, in the formation of a new game act, to give to the landlord a summary process against his tenant, if such tenant fraudulently exercises the privi- leges he has agreed to surrender. The case which seems most to alarm country gen- tlemen, is that of a person possessing a few acres in the very heart of a manor, who might, by planting food of which they are fond, allure the game into his own little domain, and thus reap an harvest prepared at the expense of the neighbour who surrounded him. But, under the present game laws, if the smaller pos- session belongs to a qualified person, the danger of intrusion is equally great as it would be under the pro- posed alteration ; and the danger from the poacher would be the same in both cases. But if it is of such great consequence to keep clear from all interference, may not such a piece of land be rented or bought ? — Or, may not the food which tempts game, be sown in the same abundance in the surrounding as in the in- closed land ? After all, it is only common justice, that he whose property is surrounded on every side by a preserver of game, whose corn and turnips are demol- ished by animals preserved for the amusement of his neighbour, should himself be entitled to that share of game which plunders upon his land. The complaint which the landed grandee makes is this. ' Here is a man who has only a twenty-fourth part of the land, and he expects a twenty-fourth part of the game. He is so captious and litigious, that he will not be content- ed to supply his share of the food without requiring his share of what the food produces. I want a neigh- bour who has talents only for suffering, not one who evinces such a fatal disposition for enjoying.' Upon such principles as these, many of the game laws have been constructed, and are preserved. The interference of a very small property with a very large one ; the critical position of one or two fields, is a very serious source of vexation on many other occasions besides those of game. He who possesses a field in the mid- dle of my premises, may build so as to obstruct my view ; and may present to me the hinder part of a barn, instead of one of the finest landscapes in nature. Nay, he may turn his field into tea-gardens, and de- stroy my privacy by the introduction of every species of vulgar company. The legislature, in all these in- stances, has provided no remedy for the inconvenien- ces which a small property, by such intermixture, may inflict upon a large one, but has secured the same rights to unequal proportions. It is very difficult to conceive why these equitable principles are to be vio- lated in the case of game alone. Our securities against that rabble of sportsmen which the abolition of qualifications might be sup- posed to produce, are; the consent of the owner of the soil as an indispensable preliminary, guarded by heavy penalties — and the price of a certificate, rendered, perhaps, greater than it is at present. It is impossi- ble to conceive why the owner of the soil, if the right of game is secured to him, has not a right to sell, or grant the right of killing it to whom he pleases— just as much as he has the power of appointing whom he pleases to kill his ducks, pigeons, and chickens. The danger of making the poor idle, is a mere pretence. It is monopoly calling in the aid of hypocrisy, and tyran- ny veiling itself in the garb of philosophical humani- ty. A poor man goes to wakes, fairs, and horse-races, without pain and penalty ; a little shopkeeper, when his work is over, may go to a bull-bait, or to the cock- pit ; but the idea of his pursuing an hare, even with- the consent of the land-owner, fills the Bucolic senator with the most lively appreheLsions of relaxed indus- try and ruinous dissipation. The truth is, if a poor man does not offend against morals or religion, and supports himself and his family without assistance the law has nothing to do with his amusements. The real barriers against increase of sportsmen (if the pro posed alteration were admitted), are, as we have be- fore said, the prohibition of the landowner ; the tax t» the state for a certificate ; the necessity of labouring for support.— Whoever violates none of these rights, and neglects none of thfise duties in his sporting, sports without crime ; and to punish him would be gross and scandalous tyranny. . . The next alteration which we would propose is, thai game should be made property ; that is, that everj man should have a right to the game found upon hu land— and that the violation of it should be punished as poaching now is, by pecuniary penalties, and summa- ry conviction before magistrates. This change in th<< game laws would be an additional defence of game for the landed proprietor has now no other remedj against the qualified intruder upon his game, than a* GAME LAWS. action at law for a trespass on the land ; and if the trespasser has received no notice, this can hardly be called any remedy at all. It is now no uncommon practice for persons who have the exterior, and per- haps the fortunes of gentlemen, as they are travelling from place to place, to shoot over manors where they have no property, and from which, as strangers, they cannot have been warned. In such a case (which we repeat again, is by no means one of rare occurrence), it would, under the reformed system, be no more diffi- cult for the lord of the soil to protect his game, than it would be to protect his geese and ducks. But though game should be considered as property, it should still be considered as the lowest species of property — be- cause it is in its nature more -vague and mutable than other species of property, and because depredations are carried on at a distance from the dwelling, and without personal alarm to the proprietors. It would be very easy to increase the penalties, in proportion to the number of offences committed by the same indi- vidual. The punishments which country gentlemen expect by making game property, are punishments affixed to offences of a much higher order ; but country gentle- men must not be allowed to legislate exclusively on this, more than on any other subject. The very men- tion of hares and partridges in the country, too often puts an end to common humanity and common sense. Game must be protected ; but protected without vio- lating those principles of justice, and that adaptation of punishment to crime, which (incredible as it may appear) , are of infinitely greater importance than the amusemements of country gentlemen. We come now to the sale of game. — The foundation on which the propriety of allowing this partly rests, is* the impossiibility of preventing it. There exists, and has sprung up since the game laws, an enormous mass of wealth, which has nothing to do with land. Do the country gentlemen imagine that it is in the power of human laws to deprive the three per cents of phea- sants ? That there is upon earth, air, or sea, a single flavour (cost what crime it may to procure it), that mercantile opulence will not procure ? Increase the difficulty, and you enlist vanity on the side of luxury ; and make that to be sought for as a display of wealth, which was before valued only for the gratification of appetite. The law may multiply penalties by reams. Squires may fret and justices may commit, and game- keepers and poachers continue their nocturnal wars. There must be game on Lord Mayor's day, do what you will. You may multiply the crimes by which it is procured ; but nothing can arrest its inevitable pro- gress, from the wood of the esquire to the spit of the citizen. The late law for preventing the sale of game produced some little temporary difficulty in London at the beginning of the season. The poulterers were alarmed and came to some resolutions,, but the alarm soon began to subside, and the difficulties to vanish. In another season the law will be entirely nugatory and forgotten. The experiment was tried of increased severity ; and a law passed to punish poachers with transportation who were caught poaching in the night time with arms. What has the consequence been ? — Not ft cessation of poaching, but a succession of vil- lage guerillas ; an internecive war between gamekeep- ers and marauders of game ; — the whole country flung into brawls and convulsions, for the unjust and exorbi- tant pleasures of country gentlemen. The poacher hardly believes he is doing any wrong in taking par- tridges and pheasants. He would admit the justice of being transported for stealing sheep ; and his courage in such a transaction would be impaired by a con- sciousness he was doing wrong : but he has no such feeling in taking game ; and the preposterous punish- ment of transportation makes him desperate, and not timid. Single poachers are gathered into large compa- nies for their mutual protection ; and go out, not only with the intention of taking game, but of defending what they take with their lives. Such feelings soon produce a rivalry of personal courage, and the thirst of revenge between the villagers and the agents of power. We extract the following passages on this subject from the Thr?e Letters on the Game Laws : ' The first and most palpable effect has naturally been aa exaltation of all the savage and desperate features in the poach- er's character. The war between him and the gamekeeper has necessarily become a " helium internecivum." A marauder may hesitate perhaps at killing his fellow man, when the alternative is only six months' imprisonment in the county jail; but when the alternative is to overcome the keeper, or to be torn from his family and connections, and sent to hard labour at the Antipodes we cannot be much surprised that murders and midnight com- bats have considerably increased this season; or that informa- tion such as the following has frequently enriched the columns of the country newspapers. ' " Poaching. — Richard Barnett was on Tuesday convicted before Richard Clutterbuck, Esq., of keeping and using engines or wires for the destruction of game in the parish of Dunkerton, and fined £5. He was taken into custody by C. Coates, keeper to Sir Charles Bamfylde, Bart., who found upon him 17 wire- snares. The new act that has just passed against these illegal practices, seems only to have irritated the offenders, and made them more daring and desperate. The following is a copy of an anonymous circular letter, which has been received by several magistrates, and other eminent characters in this neighborhood. 1 " Take notice. — We have lately heard and seen that there is an act passed, and whatever poacher is caught destroying the game is to be transported for seven years. — This is English liberty ! ' " Now, we do swear to each other, that the first of our com- pany that this law is inflicted on, that there shall not one gentle- man's seat in our country escape the rage of fire. We are nine in number, and we will burn every gentleman's house of note. The first that impeaches shall be shot. We have sworn not to impeach. You may think it a threat, but they will find it rea- lity. The game-laws were too severe before. The Lord of all men sent these animals for the peasants as well as for the prince. God will not let his people be oppressed. He will assist us in our undertaking, and we will execute it with caution." ' — Bath paper. ' " Death of a Poacher. — On the evening of Saturday se'en- night, about eight or nine o'clock, a body of poachers, seven in number, assembled by mutual agreement on the estate of the Hon. John Dutton, at Sherborne, Gloucestershire, for the pur- . pose of taking hares and other game. With the assistance of two dogs, and some nets and snares which they had brought with them, they had succeeded in catching nine hares, and were car- rying them away, when they were discovered by the game- keeper and sevenothers who were engaged with him in patrc* ing the different covers, in order to protect the game from nightly depredators. Immediately on perceiving the poachers, the keeper summoned them in a civil and peaceable manner to give up their names, dogs, implements, &c. they had with them, and the game they had taken ; at the same time assuring them that his party had fire-arms (which were produced for the pur- pose of convincing and alarming them), and representing to them the folly of resistance, as, in the event of an affray, they must inevitably be overpowered by superior numbers, even without fire-arms, which they were determined not to resort to unless compelled in self-defence. Notwithstanding this remon- strance of the keeper, the men unanimously refused to give up on any terms, declaring that if they were followed, they would give them a " brush,", and would repel force by force. The poachers then directly took off their great coats, threw them down with the game, &c, behind them, and approached the keepers in an attitude of attack. A smart contest instantly en- sued, both parties using only the sticks or bludgeons they car- ried : and such was the confusion during the battle, that some of the keepers were occasionally struck by their own comrades in mistake for their opponents. After they had fought in this manner about eight or ten minutes, one of the poachers, named Robert Simmons, received a violent blow upon his left temple, which felled him to the ground, where he lay, crying out mur- der, and asking for mercy. The keepers very humanely desired that all violence might cease on both sides : upon which three of the poachers took to flight and escaped, and the remaining three, together with Simmons, were secured by the keepers. Simmons, by the assistance of the other men, walked to the keeper's house, where he was placed in a chair : but he soon after died. His death was no doubt caused by the pressure of blood upon the brain, occasioned by the rupture of a vessel from the blow he had received. The three poachers who had been taken were committed to Northleach prison. The inquest upon the body of Simmons was taken on Monday, before W. Trigge, Gent., Coroner ; and the above account is extracted from the evidence given upon that occasion. The poachers were all armed with bludgeons, except the deceased, who had provided himself with the thick part of a flail, made of firm, knotted crab- tree, and pointed at the extremity, in order to thrust with, if occasion required. The deceased was an athletic, muscular man, very active, and about twenty-eight years of age. He re sided at Bowie, in Oxfordshire, and has left a wife, but no child The three prisoners were heard in evidence ; and all concurred in stating that the keepers were in no way blameable, and attri- buted their disaster to their own indiscretion and imprudence. Several of the keepers' party were so much beat as to be now confined to their beds. The two parties are said to be total strangers to each other, consequently no malice prepense conld WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. have sxisted between them ; and as it appeared to the jury, after a most minute and deliberate investigation, that the confusion during the affray was so great, that the deceased was as likely to be struck by one of his own party as by the keepers', they returned a verdict of— Manslaughter against some person or persons unknown." ' • Wretched as the first of these productions is, I think it scarcely to be denied, that both its spirit and its probable conse- quences are wholly to be ascribed to the exasperation naturally consequent upon the severe enactment just alluded to. And the last case is at least a strong proof that severity of enactment is quite inadequate to correct the evil.' — (p. 356-359.) Poaching will exist in some degree, let the laws be what they may ; but the most certain method of check- ing the poacher seems to be by underselling him. It game can be lawfully sold, the quantity sent to market will be increased, the price lowered, and, with that, the profits and temptations of the poacher. Not only would the prices of the poacher be lowered, but we much doubt if he would find any sale at all. Licenses to sell game might be confined to real poulterers, and real occupiers of a certain portion of land. It might be rendered penal to purchase it from any but licensed persons ; and in this way the facility of the lawful, and the danger of the unlawful trade, would either annihilate the poacher's trade, or reduce his prices so much, that it would be hardly worth his while to carry it on. What poulterer in London, or in any of the large towns, would deal with poachers, and expose himself to indictment for receiving stolen goods, when he might supply his customers at fair prices by deal- ing with the lawful proprietor of game i Opinion is of more power than law. Such conduct would soon be- come infamous; and every respectable tradesman would be shamed out of it. The consumer himself would rather buy his game of a poulterer at an in- crease of price, than pick it up clandestinely, and at a great risk, though a somewhat smaller price, from porters and booth-keepers. Give them a chance of getting it fairly, and they will not get it unfairly. At {>resent, no one has the slightest shame at violating a aw which every body feels to be absurd and unjust. Poultry-houses are sometimes robbed ; — but stolen poultry is rarely offered to sale ; — at least, nobody pretends that the shops of poulterers, and the tables of moneyed gentlemen, are supplied by these means. Out of one hundred geese that are consumed at Mi- chaelmas, ninety-nine come into the jaws of the con- sumer by honest means ; — and yet, if it had pleased the country gentlemen to have goose laws as well as game laws; — if goose-keepers had been appointed, and the sale and purchase of this savoury bird pro- hibited, the same enjoyments would have been pro- cured by the crimes and convictions of the poor ; and the periodical gluttony of Michaelmas have been ren- dered as guilty and criminal, as it is indigestible and unwholesome. Upon this subject we shall quote a passage from the very sensible and spirited letters before us. • In favourable situations, game would be reared and preser- ved for the express purpose of regularly supplying the market in fair and open competition ; which would so reduce its price, that I see no reason why a partridge should be dearer than a rabbit, or a hare and pheasant than a duck or goose. This is about the proportion of price which the animals bear to each other in France, where game can be legally sold, and is regu- larly brought to market ; and where, by the way, game is as plentiful as in any cultivated country in Europe. The price so reduced would never be enough to compensate the risk and penalties of the unlawful poacher, who must therefore be dri- ven out of the market. Doubtless, the great poulterers of London and the commercial towns, who are the principal insti- gators of poaching, would cease to have any temptation to continue so, as they would fairly and lawfully procure game for their customers at a cheaper rate from the regular breed- ers. ' They would, as they now do for rabbits and wild fowl, contract with persons to rear and preserve them for the regu- lar supply of their shops, which would be a much more commo- dious and satifactory, and less hazardous way for them, than the irregular and dishonest and corrupting methods now pur- sued. It is not saying very much in favour of human nature to assert,that men in respectable stations of society had rather procure the same ends by honest than dishonest means. Thus would all the temptations to offend against the game-laws, arising from the change of society, together with the long ohain of moral and political mischiefs, at once disappear. ' But then, in order to secure a sufficient breed of game for the supply of the market, in fair and open competition, it will be necessary to authorize a certain number of persons, likely to breed game for sale, to take and dispose of it when reared at their expense. For this purpose, I would suggest the propriety of permitting by law occupiers of land to take and kill game, for sale or otherwise, on their own occupations only, unless, (if tenants) they are specifically prohibited by agreement with their landlord; reserving the game and the power of taking it to himself, (as is now frequently done in leases.) This per- mission should not, of course, operate during the current lea- ses, unless by agreement. With this precaution, nothing could be fairer than such an enactment ; for it is certainly at the expense of the occupier that the game is raised and main- tained : and unless he receive an equivalent for it, either by abatement of rent upon agreement, or by permission to take and dispose of it, he is certainly an injured man. Whereas it is perfectly just that the owner of the land should have the option either to increase his rent by leaving the disposal of his game to his tenant, or vice versa. Game would be held to be (as in fact it is) an outgoing from the land, like tithe and other burdens, and therefore to be considered in a bargain ; and the land would either be let game-free, or a special reservation of it made by agreement. ' Moreover, since the breed of game must always depend upon the occupier of the land, who may, and frequently does, destroy every head of it, or prevent its coining to maturity, unless it is considered in his rent ; the license for which I am now contending, by affording an inducement to preserve the breed in particular spots, would evidently have a considerable effect in increasing the stock of game in other parts, and in the country at large. There would be introduced a general sys- tem of protection depending upon individual interest, instead of a general system of destruction. I have, therefore, very little doubt that the provision here recommended would, upon the whole, add facilities to the amusements of the sportsman, rather than subtract from them. A sportsman without land might also hire from the occupier of a large tract of land the privilege of shooting over it, which would answer to the latter as well as sending his game to the market. In short, he might in various ways get a return, to which he is well entitled for the expense and trouble incurred in rearing and preserving that particular species of stock upon his laud.' — (p. 337 — 339.) There are sometimes 400 or 500 head of game killed '■ in great manors on a single day. We think it highly probable, the greater part of this harvest (if the game laws were altered) would go to the poulterer, to pur- chase poultry or fish for the ensuing London season. Nobody is so poor and so distressed as men of very large fortunes, who are fond of making an unwise dis- play to the world ; and if they had recourse to these means of supplying game, it is impossible to suppose that the occupation of the poacher could be continued. — The smuggler can compete with the spirit-merchant, on account of the great duty imposed by the revenue , but where there is no duty to be saved, the mere thief — the man who brings the article to market with an halter round his neck — the man of whom it is disrepu- table and penal to buy — who hazards life, liberty, and property, to procure the articles which he sells ; such an adventurer can never be long the rival of him who honestly and fairly produces the articles in which he deals. — Fines, imprisonments, concealment, loss of character, are great deductions from the profits of any trade to which they attach, and great discouragements to its pursuit. It is not the custom at present for gentlemen to sell their game ; but the custom would soon begin, and public opinion soon change. It is not unusual for men , of fortune to contract with their gardeners to supply their own table, and to send the residue to market, or to sell their venison ; and the same thing might be done with the manor. If game could be bought, it would not be sent in presents : — barn-door fowls are never so sent, precisely for this reason. The price of game would, under the system of laws of which we are speaking, be further lowered by the introduction of foreign game, the sale of which, at present prohibited, would tend very much to the pre- servation of English game by underselling the poacher It would not be just, if it were possible, to confine 'any of the valuable productions of nature to the use of one class of men, and to prevent them from becoming the subject of barter, when the proprietor wished so to exchange them. It would be just as reasonable that the consumption of salmon should be confined to the proprietors of that sort of fishery — that the use of charr should be limited to the ^habitants of the la*e» BOTANY BAT. 83 —that nr aritime Englishmen should alone eat oysters and lobsters, as that every other class of the com- munity than landowners should be prohibited from the acquisition of game. It will be necessary, whenever the game laws are revised, that some of the worst punishments now in- flicted for an infringement of these laws should be re- pealed. To transport a man for seven years, on ac- count of partridges, and to harass a poor wretched peasant in the Crown Office, are very preposterous punishments for such offences ; humanity revolts against them — they are grossly tyrannical — and it is disgraceful that they should be suffered to remain on our statute books. But the most singular of all abuses, is the new class of punishments which the squirarchy have themselves enacted against depredations on game. The law says, that an unqualified man who kills a pheasant, shall pay five pounds ; but the squire says he shall be shot ; — and accordingly he places a spring-gun in the path of the poacher, and does all he can to take away his life. The more humane and mitigated squire mangles him with traps ; and the supra-fine country gentleman only detains him in ma- chines, which prevent his escape, but do not lacerate their captive. Of the gross illegality of such proceed- ings, there can be no reasonable doubt. Their immo- rality and cruelty are equally clear. If they are not put down by some declaratory law, it will be absolute- ly necessary that the judges, in their invaluable cir- cuits of Oyer and Terminer, should leave two or three of his majesty's squires to a fate too vulgar and in- delicate to be alluded to in this journal. Men have certainly a clear right to defend their pro- perty ; but then it must be by such means as the law allows : — their houses by pistols, their fields by actions for trespass, their game by information. There is an end of law, if every man is to measure out his punish- ment for his own wrong. Nor are we able to distin- guish between the guilt of two persons, — the one of whom deliberately shoots a man whom ne sees in his fields — the other of whom purposely places such instruments as he knows will shoot trespassers upon his fields. Better that it should be lawful to kill a trespasser face to face, than to place engines which will kill him. The trespasser may be a child — a wo- man — a son or friend. The spring-gun cannot ac- commodate itself to circumstances, — the squire or the game-keeper may. These, then, are our opinions respecting the altera- tions in the game laws, which, as they now stand, are perhaps the only system which could possibly render the possession of game so very insecure as it now is. We would give to every man an absolute property in the game upon his land, with full power to kill — to permit others to kill — and to sell ; — we would punish any violation of that property by summary conviction, and pecuniary penalties — rising in value according to the number of offences. This would of course abolish all qualifications ; and we sincerely believe it would lessen the profits of selling game illegally, so as very materially to lessen the number of poachers. It would make game, as an article of food, accessible to all classes, without infringing the laws. It would limit the amusement of country gentlemen within the boundaries of justice — and would enable the magis- trate cheerfully and conscientiously to execute laws, of the moderation and justice of which he must be tho- roughly convinced. To this conclusion, too, we have no doubt we shall come at the last. After many years of scutigeral folly — loaded prisons* — nightly battles — poachers tempted — and families ruined, these princi- ples will finally prevail, and make law once more co- incident with reason and justice. * In the course of the last year, no fewer than twelve hun- dred persons were committed for offences against the game ; besides those who ran away from their families for the fear of commitment. This is no slight quantity of misery. BOTANY BAY. (Edinburgh jIeview, 1810.) 1. A Statistical, Historical, and Political Description of the Colony of New South Wales, and its dependent Settlements in Van Diemen's Land: with a particular Enumeration of the Advantages which these Colonies offer for Emigration, and their Superiority in many respects over those possessed by the United States of America. By W. C. Went worth, Esq., a Native of the Colony. Whittaker. London, 1819. 2. Letter to Viscount Sidmouth, Secretary of State for the Home Department, on the Transportation Laws, the State of the Hulks, and of the Colonies in New South Wales. By the Hon. Henry Grey Bennet, M. P. Ridgway. London, 1819. 3. O'Hara's History of New South Wales. Hatchard. London, 1818. This land of convicts and kangaroos is beginning to rise into a very fine and flourishing settlement : — And great indeed must be the natural resources, and splen- did the endowments of that land that has been able to survive the system of neglect* and oppression expe- rienced from the mother country, and the series of ig- norant and absurd governors that have been selected for the administration of its affairs. But mankind live and flourish not only in spite of storms and tem- pests, but (which could not have been anticipated pre- vious to experience) in spite of colonial secretaries ex- pressly paid to watch over their interests. The supine- ness and profligacy of public officers cannot always overcome the amazing energy with which human be- ings pursue their happiness, nor the sagacity with which they determine on the means by which that end is to be promoted. Be it our care, however, to re- cord for the future inhabitants of Australasia, the po- litical sufferings of their larcenous forefathers ; and let them appreciate, as they ought, that energy which founded a mighty empire in spite of the afflicting blun- ders and marvellous caececonomy of their govern- ment. Botany Bay is situated in a fine climate, rather Asi- atic *han European, — with a great variety of temper- ature, — but favourable on the whole to health and life. It, conjointly with Van Diemen's Land, produces coal in great abundance, fossil salt, slate, lime, plum- bago, potter's clay ; iron ; white, yellow, and brilliant topazes ; alum and copper. These are all the impor- tant fossil productions which have been hitherto dis- covered : but the epidermis of the country has hardly as yet been scratched ; and it is most probable that the immense mountains which divide the eastern and western settlements, Bathurst and Sydney, must abound with every species of mineral wealth. The harbours are admirable ; and the whoje world, per- haps, cannot produce two such as those of Port Jack- son and Derwent. The former of these is land-locked for fourteen miles in length, and of the most irregular form : its soundings are more than sufficient for the largest ships ; and all the navies of the world might ride in safety within it. In the harbour of Derwent there is a road-stead forty-eight miles in length, com- pletely land-locked ; — varying in breadth from eight to two miles, — in depth from thirty to four fathoms, — and affording the best anchorage the whole way. The mean heat, during the three summer months, December, January, and February, is about 80° at noon. The heat which such a degree of the thermo- meter would seem to indicate, is considerably temper- ed by the sea-breeze, which blows with considerable force from nine in the morning till seven in the eve- ning. The three autumn months are March, April, and May, in which the thermometer varies from 55° at night to 75° at noon. The three winter months are June, July, and August. During this interval, the mornings and evenings are very chilly, and the nights excessively cold ; hoar-frosts are frequent ; ice, half an inch thick, is found twenty miles from the coast ; the mean temperature, at daylight, is from 40° to 45°, and at noon from 55° to 60°. In the three months of One and no small excuse for the misconduct of colonial secretaries is, the enormous qr mtity of business by which they are distracted. There shoul' be two or three colonial secre- taries instead of one : the office is dreadfully overweighted* The government of the colonies is commonly a series of blun ders. S4 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. spring the thermometer varies from 60° to 70°. The climate to the westward of the mountains is colder. Heavy falls of snow take place during the winter ; the frosts are more severe, and the winters of longer du- ration. All the seasons are much more distinctly marked, and resemble much more those of this coun- try. Such is the climate of Botany Bay; and, in this re- mote part of the earth, Nature (having made horses, oxen, ducks, geese, oaks, elms, and all regular and useful productions for the rest of the world) , seems determined to have a bit of play, and to amuse her- self as she pleases. Accordingly, she makes cherries with the stone on the outside ; and a monstrous ani- mal, as tall as a grenadier, with the head of a rabbit, a tail as big as a bed-post, hopping along at the rate of five hops to a mile, with three or four young kan- garoos looking out of its false uterus to see what is passing. Then comes a quadruped as big as a large cat, with the eyes, colour, and skin of a mole, and the bill and web-feet of a duck — puzzling Dr. Shaw, and rendering the latter half of his life miserable, from his utter inability to determine whether it was a bird or a beast. Add to this a parrot, with the legs of a sea- gull ; a skate with the head of a shark ; and a bird of such monstrous dimensions, that a side bone of it will dine three real carnivorous Englishmen ; — together with many other productions that agitate Sir Joseph, and fill him with mingled emotions of distress and de- light. The colony has made the following progress : — Stock in 1788 Stock in 1817. Horned Cattle 5 Do. 44,753 Horses - - 7 Do. . 3,072 Sheep - 29 Do. - - 170,920 Hogs ... 74 Do. - - 17,842 Land in cultivation - acres. Do. - - 47,564 Inhabitants - - 1000 Do. - - 20,379 The colony has a bank, with a capital of 20,0001. ; a newspaper ; and a capital (the town of Sydney) con- taining about 7000 persons. There is also a Van Die- men's Land Gazette. The perusal of these newspa- pers, which are regularly transmitted to England, and may be purchased in London, has afforded us conside- rable amusement. Nothing can paint in a more more lively manner the state of the settlement, its disadvan- tages, and prosperities, and the opinions and manners which prevail there. 'On Friday, Mr. James Squires, settler and brewer, waited on his excellency at Government House, with two vines of hops taken from fiis own grounds, &c. — As a public recom- pense for the unremitted attention shown by the grower in bringing this valuable plant to such a high degree of perfec- tion, his excellency has directed a cow to be given to Mr. Squires from the government herd.' — O'Hara, p. 255. 4 To Parents and Guardians. 4 A person who flatters herself her character will bear the strictest scrutiny, being desirous of receiving into her charge a proposed number of children of her own sex, as boarders, re- spectfully acquaints parents and guardians that she is about to situate herself either in Sydney or Paramatta, of which no- tice will be shortly given. She doubts not, at the same time, that her assiduity in the inculcation of moral principles in the youthful mind, joined to an unremitting attention and polite diction, will insure to her the much-desired confidence of those who may think proper to favour her with such a charge. — Inquiries on the above subject will be answered by G. Howe, at Sydney, who will make known the name of the advirtiser.' -(p. 270.) 4 Lost, (supposed to be on the governor's wharf,) two small keys, a tortoise-shell comb, and a packet of papers. Whoever may have found them, will, on delivering thein to the printer, re- ceire a refard of half a gallon of spirits.' — (p. 272.) 4 To the Public. * As we nave no certainty of an immediate supply of paper, ws cannot promise a publication next week.'— (p. 290.) 1 Fashionable Intelligence, Sept. 7*4. « On Tuesday bis excellency the late governor, and Mrs. King, arrived in town from Paramatta ; and yesterday Mrs King returned thither, accompanied by Mrs. Putland.'— {Ibid 5 4 To be sold by private Contract, by Mr. Bevan. 4 An elegant four-wheeled chariot, with plated mounted harness for four horses complete ; and a handsome lady's side- saddle and bridle. May be viewed, on application to Mr. Be- van.'— (p. 347.) 4 From the Derwent Star. 4 Lieutenant Lord, of the Royal Marines, who, after the death of Lieutenant-Governor Collins, succeded to the com mand of the settlement at Hobart Town, arrived at Port Jack- son in the Hunter, and favours us with the perusal of the ninth number published of the Derwent Star and Van Die- men's Land Intelligencer from which we copy the following extracts.'— (p. 353.) 4 A Card. 4 The subscribers to the Sydney Race Course are informed that the Stewards have made arrangements for two balls dur- ing the race week, viz. on Tuesday and Thursday.— Tickets, at Is. 6d. each, to be had at Mr. E. Wills's, George Street.— An ordinary for the subscribers and their friends each day of the races, at Mr. Wills's.— Dinner on table at five o'clock.'— (p. 356.) 4 The Ladies' Cup. 4 The ladies' cup, which was of very superior workmanship, won by Chase, was presented to Captain Richie by Mrs. M'Quarie ; who, accompanied by his excellency, honoured each day's race with her presence, and who, with her usual affa- bility, was pleased to preface the donation with the following short address.—" In the name of the Ladies of New South Wales, I have the pleasure to present you with this cup. Give me leave to congratulate you on being the successful can- didate for it ; and to hope that it is a prelude to future suc- cess, and lasting prosperity." ' — (p. 357.) 4 Butchers. 4 Now killing, at Matthew Pimpton's, Cumberland street, Rocks, beef, mutton, pork, and lamb. By retail, . 4d. per. lib. Mutton by the carcass, Is. per. lib. sterling, or 14d. cur- rency ; warranted to weigh from 10 lib. to 12 lib. per quarter. Lamb per ditto.— Captains of ships supplied at the wholesale price, and with punctuality.— If. B. Beef, pork, mutton, and lamb, at E Lamb's Hunter street, at the above prices' — (p. 37ft) 4 Salt Pork and Flair from Otaheite. 4 On sale, at the warehouse of Mrs. S. Willis, 96 George street, a large quantity of the above articles, well cured, being the Mercury's last importation from Otaheite. The terms per cask are lOd, per. lib. sterling, or Is. currency.— N. B. For the accommodation of families, it will be sold in quantities not kts than 112 lib.'— (p. 377.) 4 Painting.— A Card. 4 Mr. J. W. Lewin begs leave to inform his friends and the public in general, that he intends opening an academy for painting on the days of Monday, Wednesday, and Friday .from the hours of 10 to 12 in the forenoon.— Terms 5s. a lesson • En- trance 20s.— N. B. The evening academy for drawing continu- ed as usual.'— (p. 384.) 4 Sale of Rams. 4 Ten rams of the Merino breed, lately sold by auction from the flocks of John M'Arthur, Esq., produced upwards of 200 guineas.'— (p. 388.) 4 Mrs. Jones's Vacation Ball, December l'Hth. 4 Mrs. Jones, with great respect, informs the parents and guardians of the young ladies entrusted to her tuition, that the vacation ball is fixed for Tuesday the 22d instant, at the seminary, No. 45 Castlereagh street, Sydney. Tickets 7s. 6d. each.'— (p. 388.) 4 Sporting Intelligence. 4 A fine hunt took place the 8th instant at the Nepean, of which the following is the account given by a gentleman pre- sent. 44 Having cast off by the government hut on the Nepean, and drawn the cover in that neighbourhood for a native Dog unsuccessfully, we tried the forest ground for a Kangaroo, which we soon found. It went off in excellent style along the sands by the river side, and crossed to the Cow-pasture Plains, running a circle of about two miles ; then re-crossed, taking a direction for Mr. Campbell's stock-yard, and from thence at the back of Badge Allen Hill to the head of Boorroobaham Creek, where he was headed ; from thence he took the main range of hills between the Badge Allen and Badge Allenabin- BOTANY BAY. <•«, in a straight direction for Mr. Throsby's farm, where the hounds ran into him ; and he was killed, after a good run of about two hours." — The weight of the animal was upwards of 120 lib.'— (p. 380.) Of the town of Sydney, Mr. Wentworth observes, that there are in it many public buildings, as well as houses of individuals, that would not disgrace the best parts of London ; but this description we must take the liberty to consider as more patriotic than true. We rather suspect it was penned before Mr. Went- worth was in London ; for he is (be it said to his ho- nour) a native of Botany Bay. The value of lands (in the same spirit he adds) is half as great in Sydney as in the best situations in London ; and is daily increas- ing : The proof of this which Mr. Wentworth gives is, that l it is not a commodious house which can be rented for 100Z. per annum unfurnished.' The town of Sydney contains two good public schools, for the education of 224 children of both sexes. There are establishments also for the diffusion of education in every populous district throughout the colony ; the masters of these are allowed stipulated salaries from the Orphans' fund. Mr. Wentworth states that one- eighth part of the whole revenue of the colony is ap- propriated to the purposes of education ; — this eighth he compares to 2500/. Independent of these institutions, there is an Auxiliary Bible Society, a Sunday School, and several good private schools. This is as it should be ; the education of the poor, important everywhere, is indispensable at Botany Bay. Nothing but the earliest attention to the habits of children can restrain the er- ratic finger from the contiguous scrip, or prevent the hereditary tendency to larcenous abstraction. The American arrangements respecting the education of the lower order is excellent. Their unsold lands are surveyed, and divided into districts. In the centre of every district, an ample and well-selected lot is provi- ded for the support of future schools. We wish this had been imitated in New Holland ; for we are of opi- nion that the elevated nobleman, Lord Sidmouth, should imitate what is good and wise, even if the Americans are his teachers. Mr. Wentworth talks of 15,000 acres set apart for the support of the Female Orphan Schools ; which certainly does sound a little extravagant : but then 50 or 100 acres of this reserve are given as a portion to each female orphan ; so that all this pious tract of ground will soon be married away. This dotation of woman, in a place where they are scarce, is amiable and foolish enough. There is a school for the education and civilization of the na- tives, we hope not to the exclusion of the children of convicts, who have clearly a prior claim upon public charity. Great exertions have been made in public roads and bridges. The present governor has wisely established toll-gates in all the principal roads. No tax can be more equitable, and no money more beneficially em- ployed. The herds of wild cattle have either perished through the long droughts, or been destroyed by the remote settlers. They have nearly disappeared ; and their extinction is a good rather than an evil. A very good horse for cart or plough may now be bought for bl. to 10Z.; working oxen for the same price ; fine young breeding ewes from U. to 3/., according to the quality of the fleece. So lately as 1808, a cow and calf were sold by public auction for 105/.; and the price of middling cattle was from 80/ . to 100/. A breeding mare was, at the same period, worth from 150 to 200 guineas ; and ewes from 10/. to 20/. The inhabitants of New South Wales have now 2000 years before them of cheap beef and mutton. The price of land is of course regulated by its situation and quality. Four years past, an hundred and fifty acres of very in- different ground, about three quarters of a mile from Sydney, were sold, by virtue of an execution, in lots of 12 acres each, and averaged 14/. per acre. This is the highest price given for land not situated in a town. The general average of unimproved land is 51. per acre. In years when the crops have not suffered from flood or drought, wheat sells for 9s. per bushel ; maize for 3s. 6d.; barley for 5s.; oats for 4s. tfd.; pota- toes for 6$. per cwt. By the last accounts received from the colony, mutton and beef were 6d. per lib.; — ycal 8d.; pork 9d. Wheat 8s. dd. per bushel ; oats 4s., and barley 5s. per ditto. Fowls 4s. 6d. per couple ;— ducks 6s. per ditto ; geese 5s. each ; turkeys 7s. 6d, each ; eggs 2s. 6d. per dozen ; butter 2s. 6d. per lib.— There are manufacterers of coarse woollen cloths, hats, earthen-ware, pipes, salt, candles, soap. There are extensive breweries and tanneries ; and all sorts of mechanics and artificers necessary for an infant colo- ny. Carpenters, stone masons, bricklayers, wheel and plough wrights, and all the most useful description of artificers, can earn from 8s. to 10s. per day. Great attention has been paid to the improvement of wool ; and it is becoming a very considerable article of ex- port to this country. The most interesting circumstance in the accounts lately received from Botany Bay, is the discovery of the magnificent river on the western side of the Blue Mountains. The public are aware, that a fine road has been made from Sydney to Bathurst, and a new town founded at the foot of the western side of these mountains, a distance ef 140 miles. The country in the neighbourhood of Bathurst has been described as beautiful, fertile, open, and eminently fit for all the purposes of a settlement. The object was to find a river ; and such an one has been found, the description of which it is impossible to read without the most lively interest. The intelligence is contained in a despatch from Mr. Oxley, surveyor-general of the settlement, to the governor, dated 30th August, 1817. 1 " On the 19th, we were gratified by falling in with a river running through a most beautiful country, and which I would have been well contented to have believed the river we were in search of. Accident led us down to this stream about a mile, when we were surprised by its junc- tion with a river coming from the south, of such width and magnitude, as to dispel all doubts as to this last being the river we had so long anxiously looked for. Short as our resources were, we could not resist the temptation this beautiful country offered us to remain two days on the junc- tion of the river, for the purpose of examining the vicinity to as great an extent as possible. ' " Our examination increased the satisfaction we had previously felt. A& far as the eye could reach in every direction, a rich and picturesque country extended, abound- ing in limestone, slate, good timber, ana every other re quisite that could render an uncultivated country desirable. The soil cannot be excelled ; whilst a noble river of the first magnitude affords the means of conveying its produc- tions from one part to the other. Where I quitted it, its course was northerly ; and we were north of the parallel of Port Stevens, being in latitude 32° 45' south, and 148° 53 ' east longitude. '"It appeared to me that the Macquarrie had taken a north-northwest course from Bathurst, and that it must have received immense accessions of water in its course from that place. We viewed it at a period best calculated to form an accurate judgment of its importance, when it was neither swelled by floods beyond its natural and usual height, nor contracted within its limits by summer droughts. Of its magnitnde when it should have received the streams we had crossed, independent of any it may receive from the east, which, from the boldness and height, of the coun- try, I presume, must be at least as many, some idea may be formed, when at this point it exceeded, in breadth and apparent depth, »the Hawkesbury at Windsor. Many of the branches were of grander and more extended propor- tion than the admired one on the Nepean river from the Warragambia to Emu plains. 1 " Resolving to keep as near the river as possible during the remainder of our course to Bathurst, and endeavour to ascertain, at least on the west side, what waters fell into it, on the 22d we proceeded up the river ; and, between the point quitted and Bathurst, crossed the sources of number- less streams, all running into the Macquarrie. Two of them were nearly as large as that river itself at Bathurst. The country from whence all these streams derive their source was mountainous and irregular, and appeared equally so on the east side of the Macquarrie. This de- scription of country extended to the immediate vicinity of Bathurst ; but to the west of those lofty ranges the country was broken into low grassy hills and fine valleys, watered by rivulets rising on the west side of the mountains, which, on their eastern side, pour their waters directly into the Macquarrie. * " These westerly streams appeared to me to join that which I had at first sight taken for the Macquarrie ; and, when united, fall into it at the point at which it was first discovered on the 19th inst. 1 "We reached this place last evening, without a single accident having occurred during the whole progress of the WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. expedition, which from this point has encircled, with the parallels of 34° 0' south and 32° south, and between the meridians of 149° 43' and 143° 40' east, a space of nearly one thousand miles." ' — Wentworth, pp. 72 — 75. The nsarest distance from the point at which Mr. Oxley left off, to any part of the western coast, is very little short of 2000 miles. The Hawkesbury, at Windsor (to which he compares his new river in mag- nitude,) is 250 yards in breadth, and of sufficient depth to float a 74-gun ship. At this point it has 2000 miles oi a straight line to reach the ocean ; and if it winds as rivers commonly do wind, it has a space to flow over of between 5000 and 6000 miles. The course and direction of the river have since become the object of two expeditions, one by land under Mr. Oxley, the other by sea under Lieutenant King, to the results ot which we look forward with great interest. Enough of the country on the western side of the Blue Moun- tains has been discovered, to show that the settlement has been made on the wrong side. The space be- tween the Mountains and the Eastern Sea is not above 40 miles in breadth, and the five or six miles nearest the coast are of very barren land. The country, on the other side, is boundless, fertile, well watered, and of very great beauty. The importance of such a river as the Macquarrie is incalculable. We cannot help remarking here, the courtly appellations in which Ge- ography delights ; — the river Hawkesbury; — the town of Windsor on its banks ; Bathurst Plains ; Nepean River. Shall we never hear of the Gulf of Tierney; — Brougham Point ; or the Straits of Mackintosh on the river Grey 1 The mistakes which have been made in settling this fine colony are of considerable importance, and such as must very seriously retard its progress to power and opulence. The first we shall mention is the settle- ment on the Hawkesbury. Every work of nature has its characteristic defects. Marshes should be sus- { pected of engendering disease — a volcanic country of ! eruptions — rivers of overflowing. A very little por- tion of this kind of reflection would have induced the disposers of land in New South Wales to have become a little better acquainted with the Hawkesbury before they granted land on its banks, and gave that direc- tion to the tide of settlement and cultivation. It turns out that the Hawkesbury is the embouchure through which all the rain that falls on the eastern side of the Blue Mountain makes its way to the sea ; and accord- ingly, without any warning, or any fall of rain on the settled part of the river, the stream has often risen from 79 to 90 feet above its common level. 1 These inundations often rise seventy or eighty feet above low water mark ; and in the instance of what is still emphatically termed "the great flood," attained an eleva- tion of ninety-three feet. The chaos of confusion and dis- tress that presents itself on these occasions cannot be easily conceived by any one who has not been a witness of its horrors. An immense expanse of water, of which the eye cannot in many directions discover the limits everywhere interspersed with growing timber, and crowded with poul- try, pigs, horses, cattle, stacks, and houses, having fre- quently men, women, and children, clinging to them for protection, and shrieking out in an agony of despair for assistance : — such are the principal objects by which these scenes of death and devastation are characterized. 'These inundations are not periodical, but they most generally happen in the month of March. Within the last two years there have been no fewer than four of them, one of which was nearly as high as the great flood. In the six years preceding, there had not been one. Since the establishment of the colony, they have happened, upon an average, about once in three years. "The principal cause of them is the contiguity of this river to the Blue Mountains. The Grose and Warragambia rivers, from which two sources it derives its principal sup- ply, issue direct from these mountains; and the Nepean river, the other principal branch of it, runs along the base of them for fifty or sixty miles ; and receives, in its progress, from the innumerable mountain torrents connected with it, tne whole of the rain which these mountains collect in that great extent. That this is the principal cause of these cala- mitous inundations has been fully proved; for shortly after the plantation of this colony, the Hawkesbury overflowed its banks (which are in general about thirty feet in height,) in the midst of harvest, when not a single drop of rain had fallen on the Port Jackson side of the mountains. Another great cause of the inundations which take place in this and the other rivers in the colony is the small fall that is m them, and the consequent slowness of their currents. The current in the Hawkesbury, even when the tide is in full ebb, does not exceed two miles an hour. The water, there- fore, which during the rains rushes in torrents from the mountains, cannot escape with sufficient rapidity ; and from its immense accumulation soon overtops the banks of the river^ and covers the whole of the low country." — Wentworth, pp. 24—26. It appears to have been a great oversight not to have built the town of Sydney upon a regular plan. Ground was granted, in the first instance, without the least at- tention to this circumstance ; and a chaos of pigstyes and houses was produced, which subsequent governors have found it extremely difficult to reduce to a state of order and regularity. Regularity is of consequence in planning a metropo- lis ; but fine buildings are absurd in the infant state of any country. The various governors have unfortu- nately displayed rather too strong a taste for archi- tecture — forgetting that the real Palladio for Botany Bay, in its present circumstances, is he who keeps out the sun, wind, and rain, with the smallest quantity of bricks and mortar. The appointment of Governor Bligh appears to have been a very serious misfortune to the colony — at such an immense distance from the mother country, with such an uncertainty of communication, and with a po- pulation so peculiarly circumstanced. In these extra- ordinary circumstances, the usual jobbing of the trea- sury should really be laid aside, and some little atten- tion paid to the selection of a proper person. It is common, we know, to send a person who is somebody's cousin ; but when a new empire is to be founded, the treasury should send out, into some other part of the town, for a man of sense and character. Another very great absurdity which has been com- mitted at Botany Bay, is the diminution of theii strength and resources, by the foundation of so many subordinate settlements. No sooner had the settlers unpacked their boxes at Port Jackson, than a fresh colony was settled in Norftflk Island under Lieutenant King, which was afterwards abandoned, after conside- rable labour and expense, from the want of a harbour: besides four or five settlements on the main land, two or three thousand persons, under a lieutenant-govern- or, and regular officers, are settled in Van Dieman's Land. The difficulties of a new colony are such, that the exertions of all the arms and legs are wanted merely to cover their bodies and fill their bellies : the passage from one settlement to another, necessary for common intercourse, is a great waste of strength ; ten thousand men, within a given ompass, will do much more for the improvement of a country than the same number spread over three times the space — will make more miles of road, clear more acres of wood, and build more bridges. The judge, the wind-mill, and the school, are more accessible ; and one judge, one wind-miD, and one school, may do instead of two ; — there is less waste of labour. We do not, of course, object to the natural expansion of a colony over un- cultivated lands ; the more rapidly that takes place, the greater is the prosperity of the settlement ; but we reprobate the practice of breaking the first population of a colony, by the interposition of government, into small detached portions, placed at great intervals. It is a bad economy of their resources ; and as such, is very properly objected to by the committee of the House of Commons. This colony appears to have suffered a good deal from the tyranny as Avell as the ignorance of its go- vernors. On the 7th of December, 1816, Governor Macquarrie issued the following order : ' His excellency is also pleased further to declare, order, and direct, that in consideration of the premises, the under mentioned sums, amounts, and charges, and no more, witii regard to and upon the various denominations of work, labour, and services, described and set forth, shall be allowed, claimed, or demandable within this territory and its dependencies in respect thereof.'— Wentworth, pp. 105, 106. And then follows a schedule of every species of la- bour, to each of which a maximum is affixed. We BOTANY BAT. sr have only to observe, that a good stout inundation of the Hawkesbury would be far less pernicious to the industry of the colony than such gross ignorance and absurdity as this order evinces. Young surgeons are examined in Surgeon's Hall on the methods of cutting off legs and arms before they are allowed to practise surgery. An examination on the principles of Adam Smith, and a license from Mr. Ricardo, seem to be almost a necessary preliminary for the appointment of governors. We must give another specimen of Go- vernor Macquarrie's acquaintance wirh the principles of political economy. ■ General Orders. 'His excellency has observed, with much concern, that at the present time of scarcity, most of the garden ground at- tached to the allotments, whereon different descriptions of persons build huts, are totally neglected, and no vegetable growing thereon — as such neglect in the occupiers, points them out as unfit to profit by such indulgence, those who do not put the garden ground attached to the allotments they occupy in cultivation, on or before the 10th day of July next, will be disposed (except in cases wherein ground is held by lease), and more industrious persons put in possession of them, as the present necessities of the settlement require every exer- tion being used to supply the wants of families, by the ground attached to their dwellings being made as productive as possi- ble. By command of his excellency. G. Blaxwell, Sec. Government House, Sydney, June 21st, 1806." — O'Hara, p. 275. This compulsion to enjoy this despotic benevolence, is something quite new in the science of government. The sale of spirits was first of all monopolized by the government, and then let out to individuals, for the purpose of building an hospital. Upon this sub- ject, Mr. Bennet observes, — ' Heretofore all ardent spirits brought to the colony were purchased by the government, and served out at fixed prices to the officers, civil and military, according to their ranks ; hence arose a discreditable and baneful trade on the part of these officers, their wives and mistresses. The price of spirits at times was so high, that one and two guineas have been given for a single bottle. The thirst after ardent spirits became a mania among the settlers : all the writers on the state of the colony, and all who have resided there, and have given testi- mony concerning it, describe this rage and passion for drunk- enness as prevailing in all classes, and as being the principal foundation of all the crimes committed there. This extrava- grant propensity to drunkenness was taken advantage of by tho governor, to aid him in the building of the hospital. Mr. Went- worth, the surgeon, Messrs. Riley and Blaxwell, obtained permission to enter a certain quantity of spirits; they were to pay a duty of five or seven shillings a gallon on the quantity they introduced, which duty was to be set apart for the erec- tion of the hospital. To prevent any other spirits from being landed, a monopoly was given to these contractors. As soon as the agreement was signed, these gentlemen sent off to Rio Janeiro, the Mauritius, and the East Indies, for a large quantity of rum and arrack, which they could purchase at about the rate of 2s. or 2s. 6d. per gallon, and disembarked it at Sydney. From there being but few houses that were before permitted to sell this poison, they abounded in every street; and such was the enormous consumption of spirits, that money was soon raised to build the hospital, which was finished in 1814. Mr. Marsden informs us, that in the small town of Paramatta thirteen houses were licenced to deal in spirits, though he should think that five at the utmost would be amply sufficient for the accommo- dation of the public' — Bennet, pp. 77 — 79. The whole coast of Botany Bay and Van Dieman's Land abounds with whales ; and accordingly the duty levied upon train oil procured by the subjects in New South Wales, or imported there, is twenty times greater than that paid by the inhabitants of this coun- try: the duty on spermaceti oil, imported, is sixty times greater. The duty levied on train oil, sperma- ceti, and head matter, procured by the inhabitants of Newfoundland, is only three times the amount of that which is levied on the same substance procured by British subjects residing in the United kingdom. The duty levied on oil procured by British subjects residing in the Bahama or Bermuda islands, or in the plantations of North America, is only eight times the amount on train oil, and twelve times the amount on spermaceti, of that which is levied on the same substances taken by British subject^ within the United Kingdom. The duty, therefore, which \s payable on train oil in vessels belonging to this colony is neariy seven times greater than that which is payable on the same description of oil taken in vessels belonging to the island of New* foundUand, and considerably more than double of that which is payable on the same commodity taken in vessels belonging to the Bahama or Bermuda islands, or to the plantations in North America ; while the duty which is levied on spermaceti oil, procured in vessels belonging to this colony, is five times the amount of that which is levied on vessels belonging to the above-mentioned places, and twenty times the amount of that which is levied on vessels belonging to Newfoundland. The injustice of this seems to us to be quite enormous. The statements are taken from Mr. Wentworth's book. The inhabitants of New South Wales have no trial by jury ; the governor has not even a council to re- strain him. There is impcrsed in this country a very heavy duty on timber and coals exported ; but for which, says Mr. Wentwo'rth, some hundred tons of these valuable productions would have been sent an- nually to the Cape of Good Hope and India, since the vessels which have been in the habit of trading be- tween those countries and the colony have always re- turned in ballast. The owners and consignees would gladly have shipped cargoes ot timber and coals, if they could have derived the most minute profit from the freight of them. The Australasians grow corn ; and it is necessarily their staple. The Cape is their rival in the corn trade. The food of the inhabitants of the East Indies is rice ; the voyage to Europe is too distant for so bulky an article as corn. The supply to the government stores furnish- ed the cultivators of New South Wales with a market in the first instance, which is now become too insigni- ficant for the great excess of the" supply above the con- sumption. Population goes on with immense rapidity; but while so much new and fertile land is before them, the supply continues in the same proportion greater than the demand. The most obvious method of afford- ing a market for this redundant corn, is by encouraging distilleries within the colony ; a measure repeatedly pressed upon the government at home, but hitherto as constantly refused. It is a measure of still greater importance to the colony, because its agriculture is subjected to the effects both of severe drought and extensive inundations, and the corn raised for the dis- tillers would be a magazine in times of famine. A recommendation to this effect was long since made by a committee of the House of Commons ; but, as it was merely a measure for the increase of human comforts, was stuffed into the improvement baskets, and forgot- ten. There has been in all governments a great deal of absurd canting about the consumption of spirits. We believe the best plan is to let people drink what they like, and wear what they like ; to make no sump. tuary laws either for the belly or the back In the first place, laws against rum and rum water are made by men who can change a wet coat for a dry one whenever they choose, and who do not often work up to their knees in mud and water ; and, in the next place, if this stimulus did all the mischief it is thought to do by the wise men of claret, its cheapness and plenty would rather lessen than increase the avidity with which it is at present sought for. The governors of Botany Bay have taken the liberty of imposing what taxes they deemed proper, without any other authority than their own ; and it seemed very frivolous and vexatious not to allow this small effusion of despotism in so remote a corner of the globe : but it was noticed by the opposition in the House of Commons, and reluctantly confessed and given up by the administration. This great portion of the earth begins civil life with noble principles of free- dom : — may God grant to its inhabitants that wisdom and courage which are necessary for the preservation of so great a good ! Mr. Wentworth enumerates, among the evils to which the colony is subjected, that clause in the last settlement of the East India Company's charter, which prevents vessels of less than three hundred tons bur« then from navigating the Indian seas ; a restriction from which the Cape of Good Hope has been lately liberated, and which ought, in the same manner, to be removed from New South Wales, where there can- 86 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. not be for many years to come, sufficient capital to build vessels of so large a burthen. ' The disability,' says Mr. Wentworth, ' might be removed by a simple order in council. Whenever his majesty's govern- ment shall have freed the colonists from this useless and cruel prohibition, the following branches of commerce would then be open to them. First, they would be enabled to transport, in their own vessels, their coals, timbers, spars, flour, meat, &c. to the Cape of Good Hope, the Isle of France, Calcutta, and many other places in the Indian seas ; in all of which, markets more or less extensive exist for those various other productions which the colony might furnish. Secondly, they would be enabled to carry direct to Canton the sandal wood, beche la mer, dried seal skins, and, in fact, all the numerous productions which the surrounding seas and islands afford lor the China market, and return freighted with cargoes of tea, »i Iks, nankeens, &c; all of which commodities are in great demand in the colony, and are at present altogether furnished by East India or American merchants, to the great detriment and dissatisfaction of the colonial. And, lastly, they would be enabled, in a short time, from the great increase of capital which these important privileges would of themselves occasion, as well as attract from other countries, to open the fur-trade with the north-west coast of America, and dispose of *he car- goes procured in China — a trade which has hitherto oeen car- ried on by the Americans and Russians, although the colonists possess a local superiority for the prosecution of this valuable branch of commerce, which would insure them at least a .suc- cessful competition with subjects of those two nations. — Went- worth, pp. 317, 318. The means which Mr. Wentworth proposes for im- proving the condition of Botany Bay, are — trial by jury ; colonial assemblies, with whom the right of taxation should rest ; the establishment of distilleries, and the exclusion of foreign spirits ; alteration of du- ties, so as to place New South. Wales upon the same footing as other colonies ; removal of the restriction to navigate the Indian seas in vessels of a small bur- then ; improvements in the courts of justice ; encou- ragement for the growth of hemp, flax, tobacco, and wine ; and if a colonial assembly cannot be granted, that there should be no taxation without the authority of parliament. In general, we agree with Mr. Wentworth in his statement of evils, and in the remedies he has pro- posed for them. Many of the restrictions upon the commerce of N ew South Wales are so absurd that they require only to be stated in Parliament to be cor- rected. The fertility of the colony so far exceeds its increase of population, and the difficulty of finding a market for corn is so great — or rather the impossibi- lity so clear — that the measure of encouraging domes- tic distilleries ought to be had recourse to. The colony, with a soil fit for every thing, must, as Mr. Wentworth proposes, grow other things besides corn, and excite that market in the interior which it does not enjoy from without. The want of demand, in- deed, for the excess of corn, will soon effect this with- out the intervention of goverment. Government, we believe, have already given up the right of taxation without the sanction of Parliament ; and there is an end, probably, by this time, to that grievance. A coun- cil and a colonial secretary they have also expressed their willingness to concede. Of trial by jury, and a co- lonial assembly, we confess that we have great doubts. At some future time they must come, and ought to come. The only question is, is the colony fit for such institutions at present ? Are there a sufficient num- ber of respectable persons to serve that office in the various settlements ? If the English law is be to fol- lowed exactly, to compose a jury of twelve persons, a pannel of forty-eight must be summoned. Could forty-eight intelligent, unconvicted men, be found in every settlement of New South Wales ? or must they not be fetched from great distances, at an enormous expense and inconvenience? Is such an institution calculated for so very young a colony ? A good go- vernment is an excellent thing ; but it is not the first in the order of human wants. The first want is to subsist ; the next to subsist in freedom and comfort ; first to live at all, then to live well. A parliament is still a greater demand upon the wisdom and intelli- gence and opulence of a colony, than trial by jury. Among the twenty thousand inhabitants of New South Wales, are there ten persons out of the employ of government whose wisdom and prudence could rea- sonably be expected to advance the interests of the colony without embroiling it with the mother-coun- try ? Who has leisure, in such a state of affairs, to attend such a parliament ? Where wisdom and con- duct are so rare, every man of character, we will ven- ture to say, has, like strolling players in a barn, six or seven important parts to perform. Mr. M'Arthur, who, from his character and understanding, would probably be among the first persons elected to the colonial legislature, besides being a very spirited agri- culturist, is, we have no doubt, justice of the peace, curator and rector of a thousand plans, charities, and associations, to which his presence is essentially ne- cessary. If he could be cut into as many pieces as a tree is into planks, all his subdivisions would be emi- nently useful. When a member of Parliament, and what is called a really respectable country gentleman, sets off to attend his duty, in our Parliament, such diminution of intelligence as is produced by his ab sence, is, God knows, easily supplied ; but in a colony of 20,000 persons, it is impossible this should be the case. Some time hence, the institution of a colonial assembly will be a very wise and proper measure, and so clearly called for, that the most profligate mem- bers of administration will neither be able to ridicule nor refuse it. At present we are afraid that a Botany Bay parliament would give rise to jokes ; and jokes at present have a great agency in human affairs. Mr. Bennet concerns himself with the settlement of New Holland, as it is a school fo* criminals ; and, upon this subject, has written a very humane, en- lightened, and vigorous pamphlet. The objections made to this settlement by Mr. Beni-it are, in the first place, its enormous expense. The colony of New South Wales, from 17SS to 1S15 in lusi.ve, has cost this country the enormous sum of 3,'. ti5,983/. In the evidence before the transportation ^rnmitcee, the annual expense of each convict, from 1791 to 1797, is calculated at 33/. 9s. b%d. per annum, tuid the profits of his labour are stated to be 20/. ThV ^rice paid foi the transport of convicts has been, on v,a tsera^e, Zll exclusive of food and clothing. It app*\iM ; however, says Mr. Bennet, by an account laid JU'.foire Parlia- ment, that in the year 1814, 109,746/. wwt* paid for the transport, feed, and clothing of ltflV convicts, which will make the cost amount to abo-at iC8/. per man. In 1S12, the expenses of the cdiuf were 176,000/.; in 1813, 235,000/.; in 1814, 23i,iOW.; but in 1815, they had fallen to 150,000/. The cruelty and neglect in the transport' «uton of convicts have been very great — and in this *ay a punishment inflicted which it never was in tl\e con- templation of law to enact. During the first eight years, according to Mr. Bennet 's statements, one- tenth of the convicts died on the passage ; oa the arrival of three of the ships, 200 sick Avere landed, 281 persons having died on board. These instances, however, of criminal inattention to the health of the convicts, no longer take place ; and it is mentioned rather as an history of what is past, than a censure upon any existing evil. In addition to the expense of Botany Bay, Mr. Ben- net contends that it wants the very essence of punish- ment, terror; that the common people do not dread it ; that instead of preventing crimes, it rather excites the people to their commission, by the hopes it affords of bettering their condition in a new country 'All those who have had an opportunity of witnessing the effect of this system of transportation agree in opinion, that it is no longer an object of dread — it has, in fact, generally ceased to be a punishment: true it is, to a father of a family, to the mother who leaves her children, this perpetual separa tion from those whom they love and whom they support, is a cruel blow, and, when I consider the merciless character of the law which inflicts it, a severe penalty ; but by far the greater number of persons who suffer this punishment, regard it in quite a different light. Mr. Cotton, the ordinary of Newgate, informed the police committee last year, "that the generality of those who are transported consider it as a party of pleasure — as going out to see the world ; they evince no penitence, no contrition, but seem to rejoice in the thing— many of them to court it. I have heard them, when the sentence of transporta- tion has been passed by the recorder, return thanks for it, and seem overjoyed at their sentence' the very last party that CHARLES FOX. went off, when they were put into the caravan, shouted and nuzzaed, and were very joyous; several of them called out to the keepers who were there in the yard, the first fine Sunday we will have a glorious kangaroo hunt at the Bay — seeming to anticipate a great deal of pleasure." He was asked if those persons were married or single, and his answer was, " by far the greater number of them unmarried. Some of them are anxious that their wives and children should follow them; others care nothing about either wives or children, and are glad to get rid of them." ' — Bennet, pp. 60,61. It is a scandalous injustice in this colony, that per- sons transported for seven years, have no power of returning when that period is expired. A strong ac- tive man may sometimes work his passage home ; but what is an old man or aged female to do ? Suppose a convict were to be confined in prison for seven years, and then told he might get out if he could climb over the walls, or break open the locks, what in general would be his chance of liberation ? But no lock nor doors can be so secure a means of detention as the distance of Botany Bay. This is a downright trick and fraud in the administration of criminal justice. A poor wretch who is banished from his country for seven years, should be furnished with the means of returning to his country when these seven years are expired. If it is intended he should never return, his sentence should have been banishment for life. The most serious charge against the colony, as a place for transportation, and an experiment in crimi- nal justice, is the extreme profligacy of manners which prevails there, and the total want of reformation among the convicts. Upon this subject, except in the regular letters, officially varnished and filled with fraudulent beatitudes for the public eye, there is, and there can be, but one opinion. New South Wales is a sink of wickedness, in which the great majority of convicts of both sexes become infinitely more depraved than at the period of their arrival. How, as Mr. Ben- net very justly observes, can it be otherwise? The felon transported to the American plantations, became an insulated rogue among honest men. He lived for years in the family of some industrious planter, with- out seeing a picklock, or indulging in pleasant dia- logues on the delicious burglaries of his youth. He imperceptibly glided into honest habits, and lost not only the tact for pockets, but the wish to investigate their contents. But in Botany Bay, the felon, as soon as he gets out of the ship, meets with his ancient trull, with the footpad of his heart, the convict of his affections, the man whose hand he has often met in the same gentleman's pocket — the being whom he would choose from the whole world to take to the road, or to disentangle the locks of Bramah. It is impossible that vice should not become more intense in such society. Upon the horrid state of morals now prevalent in Botany Bay, we would counsel our readers to cast their eyes upon the account given by Mr. Marsden, in a letter, dated July, 1815, to Governor Macquarrie. — It is given at length in the appendix to Mr. Bennet's book. A more horrid picture of the state of any set- tlement was never penned. It carries with it an air of truth and sincerity, and is free from all enthusiastic cant. * I now appeal to your excellency,' (he says, at the conclusion of his letter,) 'whether, under such circumstances, any man of common feeling, possessed of the least spark of humanity or religion, who stood in the same official relation that I do to these people, as their spiritual pastor and magistrate, could enjoy one happy moment from the beginning to the end of the week?- ' I humbly conceive that it is incompatible with the character and wish of the British nation, that her own exiles should be exposed to such privations and dangerous temptations, when she is daily feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, and receiving into her friendly, and I may add pious bosom, the stranger, whether savage or civilized, of every nation under heaven. There are, in the whole, nnder the two principal superintendents, Messrs. Rouse and Oakes, one hundred and eight men, and one hundred and fifty women, and several children ; and nearly the whole of them have to find lodgings for themselves when they have performed their governmeat tasks. ' I trust that your excellency will be fully persuaded, that it is totally impossible for the magistrate to support his necessary authority, and to establish a regular police, under such a weight of accumulated and accumulating evils. I am as sensible as any man can be, that the difficulty of removing these evils will be very great ; at the same time, their number and influ- ence may be greatly lessened, if the abandoned male and female convicts are lodged in barracks, and placed under the eye of the police, and the number of licensed houses is re- duced. Till something of this kind is done, all attempts of the magistrate, and the public administration of religion, will be attended with little good. I have the honour to be your ex- cellency's most obedient humble servant, Samuel Marsden ' — Bennet, p, 104. Thus much for Botany Bay. As a mere colony, it is too distant and expensive ; and, in future, will of course involve us in many of those just and necessary wars, which deprive Englishmen so rapidly of their comforts, and make England scarcely worth living in. If considered as a place of reform for criminals, its distance, expense, and the society to which it dooms the objects of the experiment, are insuperable objec- tions to it. It is in vain to say, that the honest people in New South Wales will soon bear a greater propor tion to the rogues, — and the contamination of bad society will be less fatal. This only proves that it may be a good place for reform hereafter, not that it is a good one now. One of the principal reasons for peopling Botany Bay at all, was, that it would be an admirable receptacle, and a school of reform, for our convicts. It turns out, that for the first half century, it will make them worse than they were before, and that, after that period, they may probably begin to improve. A marsh, to be sure, maybe drained and cultivated; but no man who has his choice, would select it in the mean time for his dwelling-place. The three books are all books of merit. Mr. 0'- Hara's is a bookseller's compilation, done in a useful and pleasing manner. Mr. Wentworth is full of infor- mation on the present state of Botany Bay. The humanity, the exertions, and the genuine benevolence of Mr. Bennet, are too well known to need our com- mendation. All persons who have a few guineas in their pocket, are now running away from Mr. Nicholas Vansittart to settle in every quarter of the globe. Upon the subject of emigration to Botany Bay, Mr. Wentworth observes, 1st, that any respectable person emigrating to that colony, receives as much land gratis, as would cost him 400L in the United States ; 2dly, he is allow- ed as many servants as he may require, at one-third of the wages paid for labour in America ; 3dly, him- self and family are victualled at the expense of gov- ernment for six months. He calculates that a man,— wife, and two children, with an allowance of five tons for themselves and baggage, could emigrate to Botany Bay for 100Z., including every expense, provided a whole ship could be freighted ; and that a single man could be taken out thither for 301. These points are worthy of serious attention to those who are shedding their country. CHIMNEY SWEEPERS. (Edinburgh Review, 1819.) Account of the Proceedings of the Society for superseding the Necessity of Climbing Boys. Baldwin, &c. London, 1816. An excellent and well-arranged dinner is a most pleas- ing occurrence, and a great triumph of civilized life. It is not only the descending morsel, and the envelop- ing sauce— but the rank, wealth, wit, and beauty which surround the meats— the learned management of light and heat— the silent and rapid services of the attendants— the smiling and sedulous host, proffering guests and relishes — the exotic bottles — the embossed plate — the pleasant remarks — the handsome dresses — the cunning artifices in fruit and farina ! The hour of dinner, in short, includes every thing of sensual and intellectual gratification which a great nation glories in producing. In the midst of all this, who knows that the kitchen chimney caught fire half an hour before dinner !— and that a poor little wretch, of six ox seven years old 90 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. was sent up in the midst of the flames to put it out ? We would not, previous to reading this evidence, have formed a conception of the miseries of these poor wretches, or that there should exist, in a civilized country, a class of human beings destined to such ex- treme and varied distress. We will give a short epitome of what is developed in the evidence before the two Houses of Parliament. Boys are made chimney sweepers at the early age of five or six. Little boys for small flues, is a common phrase in the cards left at the door by itinerant chimney sweep- ers. Flues made to ovens and coppers are often less than nine inches square ; and it may be easily con- ceived, how slender the frame of that human body ■aiust be, which can force itself through such an aper- ture. 'What is the age of the youngest boys who have been em- ployed in this trade, to your knowledge ? About five years of age : I know one now between five or six years old ; it is the man's own son in the Strand: now there is another atSomer's Town, I think, said he was between four and five, or about five; Jack Hall, a little lad, takes him about. — Did you ever know any female children employed ? Yes, I know one now. About two years ago there was a woman told me she had climbed scores of times, and there is one at Paddington now whose father taught her to climb : but I have often heard talk of them when I was apprentice, in different places. — What is the smallest-sized flue you have ever met with in the course of your experience ? About eight inches by nine ; these they are always obliged to climb in this posture (describing it), keeping the arms up straight ; if they slip their arms down, they get jammed in; unless they get their arms close over their head they cannot climb.' — Lords 1 Minutes, No. 1. p. 8. The following is a specimen of the manner in which they are taught this art of climbing chimneys : ' * Do you remember being taught to climb chimneys ? Yes. — What did you feel upon the first attempt to climb a chimney ? The first chimney I went up, they told me there was some plumb-pudding and money up at the top of it, and that is the way they enticed me up ; and when I got up, I would not let the other boy get from under me to get at it ; I thought he would get it ; I could not get up, and shoved the pot and half the chimney down into the yard. Did you experience any in- convenience to your knees, or your elbows ? Yes, the skin was off my knees and elbows too, in climbing up the new chimneys they forced me up. — How did they force you up ? When I got up, I cried out about my sore knees. — Were you bfeator compelled to go up by any violent means? Yes, when I went to a narrow chimney, if I could not do it, I durst not go ome; when I used to couie down, my master would beat me with the brush ; and not only my master, but when we used to go with the journeymen, if we could not do it, they used to hit us three or four times with the brush.' — Lords' Minutes, No. 1. p. 5. In practising the art of climbing, they are often crippled. ' You talked of the pargetting to chimneys ; are many chim- neys pargetted? There used to be more than are now ; we used to have to go and sit all a-twist to parge them, according to the floors, to keep the smoke from coming out ; then I could not strengthen my legs ; and that is the reason that many are cripples, — from parging and stopping the holes.' — Lords' Min- utes, No. 1. p. 17. They are often stuck fast in a chimney, and, after remaining there many hours, are cut out. 'Have you known, in the course of your practice, boys stick in chimneys at all ? Yes, frequently. — Did you ever know an instance of a boy being suffocated to death ? No ; I do not re- collect any one at present, but I have assisted in taking boys out when they have been nearly exhausted. — Did you ever know an instance of its being necessary to break open a chim- ney to take the boy out ? O yes. — Frequently ? Monthly I might say ; it is done with a cloak, if possible, that it should not be discovered : a master in general wishes it not to be known, and therefore speaks to the people belonging to the house not to mention it, for it was merely the boy's neglect ; they oftey say it was the boy's neglect. — Why do they say that ? The boy's climbing shirt is often very bad ; the boy coming down, if the chimney be very narrow, and numbers of them are only nine inches, gets his shirt rumpled underneath him, and he has no power after he is fixed in that way (with his hand up.) — Does a boy frequently stick in the chimney ? Yes, I have known more instances of that the last twelve- month than before. — Do you ever have to break open in the inside of a room? Yes, I have helped to break through into a kitchen chimney in a dining room.'— Lords' Minutes, p. 34. To the same effect is the evidence of John Daniels (Minutes, p. 100,) and of James Ludford (Lords' Minutes, p. 147.) • You have swept the Penitentiary? I have. — Did you ever know a boy stick in any of the chimneys there ? Yes, I have —Was it one of your boys? It was.— Was there one or two that stuck? Two of them.— How long did they stick there? Two hours.— How were they got out ? They were cut out*— Was there any danger while they were in that situation? It was the core from the pargetting of the chimney, and the rub- bish that the labourers had thrown down, that stopped them, and when they got it aside them, they could not pass. — They both stuck together? Yes.'— Lords' Minutes, p. 147. One more instance we shall give from the evidence before the Commons. 'Have you heard of any accidents that have recently hap- pened to climbing boys in the small flues ? Yes ; I have often met with accidents myself when I was a boy ; there was lately one in Mary-le-bone, where the boy lost his life in a flue, a boy of the name of Tinsey (his father was of the same trade) ; that boy I think was about eleven or twelve years old. — Was there a coroner's inquest sat on the body of that boy you mentioned ? Yes, there was ; he was an apprentice of a man of the name of Gay. — How many accidents do you recollect, which were attended with loss of life to the climbing boys ? I have heard talk of many more than I know of; I never knew of more than three since I have been at the trade, but 1 have heard talk of many more. — Of twenty or thirty ? I cannot say ; I have been near losing my own life several times.' — Commons' Report, p. 53. We come now to burning little chimney sweepers A large party are invited to dinner — a great display is to be made ; and about an hour before dinner, there is an alarm that the kitchen chimney is on fire ! It is impossible to put off the distinguished personages who are expected. It gets very late for the soup and fish — the cook is frantic — all eyes are turned upon the sable consolation of the master chimney sweeper — and up into the midst of the burning chimney is sent one of the miserable little infants of the brush ! There is a positive prohibition of this practice, and an enactment of penalties in one of the acts of Parliament which respect chimney sweepers. But what matter acts of Parliament, when the pleasures of genteel people are concerned ? Or what is a toasted child, compared to the agonies of the mistress of the house with a de- ranged dinner ? ' Did you ever know a boy get burnt up a chimney? \es. Is that usual? Yes, I have been burnt myself, and have got the scars on my legs ; a year ago I was up a chimney in Liquor Pond Street ; I have been up more than forty chimneys where I have been burnt. — Did your master or the journeymen ever direct you to go up a chimney that was on fire ? Yes, it is a general case. — Do they compel 3 r ou to go up a chimney that is on fire? Oh yes, it was the general practice for two of us to stop at home on Sunday to be ready in case of a chimney being a-fire. — You say it is general to compel the boys to go up chimneys on fire ? Yes, boys get very ill-treated if they do not go up.' — Lords' Minutes, p. 34. ' Were you ever forced up a chimney on fire ? Yes, I was forced up one once, and, because I could not do it, I was taken home and well hided with a brush by the journeyman. — Have you frequently been burnt in ascending chimneys on fire ? Three times. — Are such hardships as you have described com- mon in the trade with other boys ? Yes, they are.' — Ibid. p. 100. ' What is the price for sending a boy up a chimney badly on fire? The price allowed is five shillings, but most of them charge half a guinea — Is any part of that given to the boy ? No, but very often the boy gets half a crown ; and then the journeyman has half, and his mistress takes the other part to take care of against Sunday. — Have you never seen water thrown down from the top of a chimney when it is on fire ? Yes. — Is not that generally done? Yes ; I have seen that done twenty times, and the boy in the chimney ; at the time when the boy has hallooed out, " It is so hot I cannot go any fur- ther ;" and then the expression is, with an oath, " Stop, and I will heave a pail of water down." '—Ibid. p. 39. Chimney sweepers are subject to a peculiar sort of cancer, which often brings them to premature death. ' He appeared perfectly willing to try the machines every- where ? I must say the man appeared perfectly willing ; he had a fear that he and his family would be ruined by them , but I must say of him, that he is very different from ether CHIMNEY SWEEPERS. 91 sweeps I have seen ; he attends very much to his own busi- ness ; he was as black as any boy he had got, and unfortun- ately in the course of conversation he told me he had got a cancer ; he was a fine healthy strong looking man ; he told me he dreaded having an operation performed, but his father died of the same complaint, and his father was sweeper to King George the Second.' — Lords' Minutes, p. 84. 1 What is the nature of the particular diseases ? The diseases that we particularly noticed, to which they were subject, were of a cancerous description. In what part ? The scrotum, in particular, &c. Did you ever hear of cases of that description that were fatal? No, I do not think them as altogether being fatal, unless they will not submit to the operation; they have such a dread of the operation that they will not submit to it, and if they do not let it be perfectly removed they will be lia- ble to the return of it. To what cause do you attribute that disease ? I think it begins from a want of care : the scrotum being in so many folds or crevices, the soot lodges iu them and creates an itching, and I conceive that, by scratching it and tearing it, the soot gets in and creates the irritability ; which disease we know by the name of the chimney sweeper's cancer, and is always lectured upon separately as a distinct disease. — Then the committee understands that the physicians who are entrusted with the care and management of those hospitals think that disease of such common occurrence, that it is neces sary to make it a part of surgical education ? Most assuredly I remember Mr. Cline and Mr. Cooper were particular on that subject. — Without an operation there is no cure ? I conceive not ; I conceive without the operation it is death ; for cancers are of that nature that unless you extirpate them entirely they will never be cured.' — Commons' Rep. p. 60, 61. In addition to the life they led as chimney sweepers, is superadded the occupation of nightmen. ' (By a Lord.) Is it generally the custom that many mas- ters are likewise nightmen ? Yes ; I forgot that circumstance, which is very grievous ; I have been tied round the middle, and let down several privies, for the purpose of fetching watches, and such things; it is generally made the practice to take the smallest boy, to let him through the hole without taking up the seat, and to paddle about there until he finds it ; they do not take a big boy, because it disturbs the seat. — Lords' Minutes, p. 38. The bed of these poor little wretches is often the soot they have swept in the day. 1 How are the boys generally lodged ; where do they sleep at night ? Some masters may be better than others, but I know I have slept on the soot that was gathered in the day myself.— Where do boys generally sleep ? Never on a bed ; I never slept on a bed myself while I was apprentice. — Do they sleep in cellars'? Yes, very often ; I have slept in the cellar myself on the sacks I took out. — What had you to cover you ? The same — Had you any pillow ? No further than my breeches and jacket under my head. — How were you clothed ? When I was apprentice we had a pair of leather breeches and a small flannel jacket. — Any shoes and stockings ? Oh dear no ; no stockings. — Had you any other clothes for Sunday ? Sometimes we had an old bit of a jacket, that we might wash out ourselves, and a shirt.' — Lords' Minutes, p. 40. Girls are occasionally employed as chimney sweep- ers. * Another circumstance, which has not been mentioned to the committee, is, that there are several little girls employed ; there are two of the name of Morgan at Windsor, daughters of the chimney-sweeper who is employed to sweep the chim- neys of the Castle ; another instance at Uxbridge, and at Brighton, and at Whitechapel, (which was some years ago,) and at Hadley near Barnet, and Witham in Essex, and else- where. — Commons' Report, p. 71. Another peculiar danger to which chimney sweepers are exposed, is the rottenness of the pots at the top of chimneys ; for they must ascend to the very sum- mit, and show their brushes above them, or there is no proof that the work is properly completed. These chimney-pots, from their exposed situation, are very subject to decay ; and when the poor little wretch has worked his way up to the top, pot and boy give way together, and are both shivered to atoms. There are many instances of this in the evidence before both Houses. When they outgrow the power of going up a chimney, they are fit for nothing else. The mise- ries they have suffered lead to nothing. They are not I only enormous, but unprofitable : having suffered, in what is called the happiest part of his life, every misery which an human being can suffer, they are then cast out to rob and steal, and given up to the law. Not the least of their miseries, while their trial en- dures, is their exposure to cold. It will easily be be* lieved that much money is not expended on the clothes of a poor boy stolen from his parents, or sold by them for a few shillings, and constantly occupied in dirty work. Yet the nature of their occupations renders chimney sweepers peculiarly susceptible of cold. And as chimneys must be swept very early, at four or five o'clock of a winter morning, the poor boys are shiver- ing at the door, and attempting by repeated ringings to rouse the profligate footman; but the more they ring the more the footman does not come. ' Do they not go out in the winter without stockings ? Oh, yes. — Always? I never saw one go out with stockings; I have known masters make their boys pull off" their leggins, and cut off the feet, to keep their feet warm when they have chilblains. — Are chimney-sweepers' boys particularly subject to chilblains ? Yes ; I believe it is owing to the weather : they often go out at two or three in the morning, and their shoes are generally very bad.Q-Do they go out at that hour at Christmas? Yes; a man will have twenty jobs at four, and twenty more at five or six. — Are chimneys generally swept much about Christmas time ? Yes ; they are in general ; it is left to the Christmas freek. — Do you suppose it is frequent that, in the Christmas week, boys are out from three o'clock in the morning to nine or ten ? Yes, further than that ; I have known that a boy has been only in and out again directly all day till five o'clock in the evening. — Do you consider the journeymen and masters treat those boys generally with greater cruelty than other apprentices in other trades are treated ? They do, most horrid and shocking.' — Lords' Mi nutes, p. 33. The following is the reluctant evidence of a master. • At what hour in the morning did your boys go out upon their employment ? According to orders. — At any time ? To be sure ; suppose a nobleman wished to have his chimney done before four or five o'clock in the morning, it was done, or how were the servants to get their things done? — Supposing you had an order to attend at four o'clock in the month of Decem- ber, you sent your boy? I was generally with him, or had a careful follower with him. — Do you think those early hours beneficial for him ? I do ; and I have heard that " early to bed and early to rise, is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise." — Did they always get in as soon as they knocked ? No ; it would be pleasant to the profession if they could. — How long did they wait ? Till the servants please to rise. — How long might that be? According how heavy they were to sleep. — How long was that ? It is impossible to say ; ten minutes at one house, and twenty at another. — Perhaps half an hour? We cannot see in the dark how the minutes go. — Do you think it aealthy to let them stand there twenty minutes at four o'clock in the morning in the winter time? He has a cloth to wrap himself in like a mantle, and keep himself warm.' — Lords' Minutes, pp. 138, 139. We must not forget sore eyes. Soot lodges on their eyelids, produces irritability, which requires friction ; and the friction of dirty hands of course increases the disease. The greater proportion of chimney sweepers are in consequence blear-eyed. The boys are very small, but they are compelled to carry heavy loads of soot. 'Are you at all lame yourself? No : but I am " knapped- kneed" with carrying heavy loads when I was an apprentice. — That was the occasion of it? It was. — In general, are per- sons employed in your trade either stunted or knock-kneed by carrying heavy loads during their childhood? It is owing to their masters a great deal ; and when they climb a great deal it makes them weak.' — Commons' Report, p. 58. In climbing a chimney, the great hold is by the knees and elbows. A young child of six or seven years old, working with knees and elbows against hard bricks, soon rubs off the skin from these bony projections, and is forced to climb high chimneys with raw and bloody knees and elbows. ' Are boys' knees and elbows rendered sore when they first begin to learn to climb ? Yes, they are, and pieces out of them. — Is that almost generally the case ? It is ; there is not one out of twenty who is not ; and they are sure to take the scars to their grave : I have some now. — Are they usually compelled to continue climbing while those sores are open ? Yes ; the way they use to make them hard is that way. — Might not this severity be obviated by the use of pads in learning to climb ? Yes ; but they consider in the business, learning a boy, that he is never thoroughly learned until the boy's knees are hard after Deing sore ; then they consider it necessary to put a pad on, from seeing the boy have bad knees J WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. the children generally walk stiff-kneed. — Is it usual among the chimney-sweepers to teach their boys to learn by means of pads? No ; they learn them with nearly naked knees.— Is it done in one instance in twenty ? No, nor one in fifty.' — Lords' Minutes, p. 32. According to the humanity of the master, the soot remains upon the bodies of the children, unwashed off, for any time from a week to a year. •Are the boys generally washed regularly? No, unless they wash themselves. — Did not your master take care you were washed ? No. — Not once in three months ? No, not once a year. — Did not he find you soap? No ; I can take my oath on the Bible that he never found me one piece of soap during the time I was apprentice.' — Lords 7 Minutes, p. 41. The life of these poor little wretches is so miserable, that they often lie sulking in the flues unwilling to come out. 'Did you ever see severity usedio boys that were not obsti- nate and perverse ? Yes. — Very often ? Yes, very often. The boys are rather obstinate ; some of them are ; some of them will get half-way up the chimney, and will not go any further, and then the journeymen will swear at them to come down, or go on ; but the boys are too frightened to come down ; they halloo out, we cannot get up, and they are afraid to come down ; sometimes they will send for another boy, and drag them down ; sometimes get up to the top of the chimney, and throw down water, and drive them down ; then, when they get them down, they will begin to drag, or beat, or kick them about the house ; then, when they get home, the master will beat them all round the kitchen afterwards, and give them no breakfast, perhaps.' — Lords' Minutes, pp. 9, 10. When the chimney boy has done sufficient work for the master he must Avork for the man ; and he thus becomes for several hours after his morning's work a perquisite to the journeyman. * It is frequently the perquisite of the journeyman, when the first labour of the day on account of the master is finished, to "call the streets," in search of employment on their own account, with the apprentices, whose labour is thus unreasonably extended, and whose limbs are weakened and distorted by the weights which they have to carry, and by the distance which they have to walk. John Lawless says; " I have known a boy to climb from twenty to thirty chimneys for his master in the morning ; he has then been sent out instantly with the journeyman, who has kept him out till three or lour o'clock, till he has accumulated from six to eight bushels of soot."' — Lords' Report, p. 24. The sight of a little chimney sweeper often excites pity : and they have small presents made to them at the houses where they sweep. These benevolent alms are disposed of in the following manner : 1 Do the boys receive little presents of money from people often in your trade? Yes, it is in general the custom. — Are they allowed to keep that for their own use? Not the whole of it, — the journeymen take what they think proper. They journeymen are entitled to half by the master's orders ; and whatever a boy may get, if two boys and one journey- man are sent to a large house to sweep a number of chim- neys, and after they have done, there should be a shilling, or eighteen pence given to the boys, the journeyman has his full half, and the two boys in general have tne other. — Is it usual or customary for the journeymen to play at chuck farthing or other games with the boys? Frequently. — Do they win the money from the boys? Frequently; the children give their money to the journeymen to screen for them. — What do you mean by screening? Such a thing as sifting the soot. The child is tired, and he says, " Jem, I will give you two-pence if you will sift my share of the soot;" there is sometimes twenty or thirty bushels to sift. Do you think the boys retain one quarter of that given them for their own use ? No.' — Lords' Minutes, p. 35. To this most horrible list of calamities is to be added the dreadful deaths by which chimney sweep- ers are often destroyed. Of these we once thought of giving two examples ; one from London, the other from our own town of Edinburgh ; but we confine our- selves to the latter. James Thomson, chimney sweeper. — One day in the begin- ning of June, witness and panel (that is, the master, the party accused) had been sweeping vents together. About four o'clock in the afternoon, the panel proposed to go to Albany fltreet, where the panel's brother was cleaning a vent, with the assistance of Fra6er, whom he had borrowed from the Eanel for the occasion. When witness and panel got to the ouse in Albany street, they found Fraser, who had gone uo the vent between eleven and twelve o'clock, not yet come down. On entering the house they found a mason making a hole in the i wall. Panel said, what was he doing ? I suppose he has taken . a lazy fit. The panel called to the boy, " What are you doing? what's keeping you?" The boy anwered that he could not come. The panel worked a long while, sometimes persuading him, sometimes threatening and swearing at the boy to get him down. Panel then said, " I will go to a hardware shop and I get a barrel of gunpowder, and blow you and the vent to the devil, if you do not come down." Panel then began to slap at the wall — witness then went up a ladder, and spoke to the boy through a small hole in the wall previously made by the mason — but the boy did not answer. Panel's brother told witness, to come down, as the boy's master knew best how to manage him. Witness then threw off his jacket, and put a handker- chief about his head, and said to the panel, let me go up the chimney to see what's keeping him. The panel made no an- swer, but pushed witness away from the chimney, and con- tinued bullying the boy. At this time the panel was standing on the grate, so that witness could not go up the chimney ; witness then said to panel's brother, there is no use for me here, meaning that panel would not permit him to use his • services. He prevented the mason making the hole larger, saying, Stop, and I'll bring him down in five minutes' time. Witness then put on his jacket, and continued an hour in the room, during all which time the panel continued bullying the boy. Panel then desired witness to go to Reid's house to get I the loan of his boy Alison. Witness went to Reid's house, and I asked Reid to come and speakjo panel's brother. Reid asked j if panel was there? Witness answered he was; Reid said he would send his boy to the panel, but not to the panel's brother. Witness and Reid went to Albany street ; and when they got into the room, panel took his head out of the chimney and asked Reid if he would lend him his boy ; Reid agreed ; wit- ness then returned to Reid's house for his boy, and Reid called after him, " Fetch down a set of ropes with you." By this time witness had been ten minutes in the room, during which time panel was swearing, and asking what's keeping you, you scoun- drel? When witness returned with the boy and the ropes, Reid took hold of the rope, and having loosed it, gave Alison one end, and directed him to go up the chimney, saying, do not go farther than his feet, and when 3'ou get there fasten it to his foot. Panel said nothing all this time. Alison went up, and having fastened the rope, Reid desired him to come down ; Reid took the rope and pulled, but did not bring down the boy ; the rope broke ! Alison was sent up again with the other end of the rope, which was fastened to the boy's foot. When Reid was pulling the rope, panel said, "You have not the strength of a cat;" he took the rope into his own hands, pulling as strong as he could. Having pulled about a quarter of an hour, panel and Reid fastened the rope round a crow bar, which they applied to the wall as a lever, and both pulled with all their strength for about a quarter of an hour longer, when it broke. During this time witness heard the boy cry, and say, " My God Almighty ! " Panel said, " If I had you here, I would God Almighty you." Witness thought the cries were in agony. The master of the house brought a new piece of rope, and the panel's brother spliced an eye on it. Reid expressed a wish to have it fastened on both thighs, to have greater purchase. Alison was sent up for this purpose, but came down and said he could not get it fastened. Panel then began to slap at the wall. After striking a long while at the wall, he got out a large stone ; he then put in his head and called to Fraser, "Do you hear, you sir?" but got no answer: he then put in his hands, and threw down deceased's breeches. He then came down from the ladder. At this time the panel was in a state of perspiration : he sat down on a stool, and the master of the house gave him a dram. Witness did not hear panel make any remarks as to the situa- tion of the boy Fraser. Witness thinks that, from panel's appearance, he knew that the boy was dead." — Commons' Re port, pp. 136—138. We have been thus particular in stating the case of the chimney sweepers, and in founding it upon the basis of facts, that we may make an answer to those profligate persons who are always ready to fling an air of ridicule upon the labours ol humanity, because - they are desirous that what they have not virtue to do i themselves, should appear to be foolish and romantic when done by others. A still higher degree of depra- • vity than this, is to want every sort of campassion for i human misery, when it is accompanied by filth, po- verty, and ignorance — to regulate humanity by the income tax, and to deem the bodily wretchedness and the dirty tears of the poor a fit subject for pleasantry and contempt. We should have been loath to believe, that such deep-seated and disgusting immorality ex- isted in these days ; but the notice of it is forced upon us. Nor must wepass over a set of marvellously weak gentlemen, who disepver democracy and revolution in every effort to improve the condition of the lower or AMERICA. 93 ders, and to take off a little of the load of misery from those points where it presses the hardest. Such are the men into whose heart Mrs. Fry has struck the deepest terror ; who abhor Mr. Bentham and his peni- tentiary ; Mr. Bennet and his hulks ; Sir James Mack- intosh and his bloodless assizes ; Mr. Tuke and his sweeping machines ; and every human being who is great and good enough to sacrifice his quiet to his love for his fellow creatures. Certainly we admit that hu- manity is sometimes the veil of ambition or of faction ; but we have no doubt that there are a great many ex- cellent persons to whom it is misery to see misery, and pleasure to lessen it ; and who, by calling the public attention to the worst cases, and by giving birth to judicious legislative enactments for their improve- ment, have made, and are making, the world some- what happier than they found it. Upon these princi- ples we join hands with the friends of the chimney sweepers, and most heartily wish for the diminution of their numbers, and the limitation of their trade. We are thoroughly convinced, there are many re- spectable master chimney sweepers ; though we sus- pect their numbers have been increased by the alarm which their former tyranny excited, and by the severe laws for their coercion : but even with good masters the trade is miserable — with bad ones it is not to be endured ; and the evidence already quoted, shows us how many of that character are to be met with in the occupation of sweeping chimneys. After all, we must own that it was quite right to throw out the bill for prohibiting the sweeping of chimneys by boys — because humanity is a modern in- vention ; and there are many chimneys in old houses, which cannot possibly be swept in any other manner. But the construction of chimneys should be attended to in some new building act ; and the treatment of boys be watched over with the most severe jealousy of the law. Above all, those who have chimneys ac- cessible to machinery, should encourage the use of machines,* and not think it beneath their dignity to take a little trouble, in order to do a great deal of good. We should have been very glad to have second- ed the views of the Climbing Society, and to have pleaded for the complete abolition of climbing boys, if we could have done so. But such a measure, Ave are convinced from the evidence, could not be carried into execution without great injury to property, and great increased risk of fire. The lords have investi- gated the matter with the greatest patience, humani- ty, and good sense ; and they do not venture, in their report, to recommend to the house the abolition of climbing boys. AMERICA. (Edinburgh Review, 1820.) Statistical Annals of the United States of America. By Adam Seybert. 4to. Philadelphia, 1818. This is a book of character and authority ; but it is a very large book ; and therefore we think we shall do an acceptable service to our readers, by presenting them with a short epitome of its contents, observing the same order which has been chosen by the author. The whole, we conceive, will form a pretty complete picture of America, and teach us how to appreciate that country, either as a powerful enemy or a profit- able friend. The first subject with which Mr. Seybert begins, is the population of the United States. Population. — As representatives and direct taxes are apportioned among the different states in propor- tion to their numbers, it is provided for in the Ameri- can constitution, that there shall be an actual enumera- tion of the people every ten years. It is the duty of the marshals in each state to number the inhabitants of their respective districts : and a correct copy of the lists, containing the names of the persons returned, must be set up in a public place within each district, before they are transmitted to the secretary of state : — they are then laid before Congress by the President. Under this act three census, or enumerations of the people, have been already laid before Congress — for The price of a machine is fifteen shillings. the years 1790, 1800, and 1810. In the year 1790, the population of America was 3,921 ,326 persons, of whom 697,697 were slaves. In 1800, the numbers were 5,319,762, of which 896,849 were slaves. In 1810, the numbers were 7,239,903, of whom 1,191,364 were slaves ; so that at a rate at which free population has proceeded between 1790 and 1810, it doubles itself, in the United States, in u very little more than 22 years. The slave population, according to its rate of proceed- ing in the same time, would be doubled in about 2Q years. The increase of the slave population in this statement is owing to the importation of negroes be tween 1S00 and 1808, especially in lS06and 1807, from the expected prohibition against importation. The number of slaves was also increased by the acquisi tions of territory in Louisiana, where they constituted nearly half the population. From 1801 to 1811, the inhabitants of Great Britain acquired an augmenta- tion of 14 per cent ; the Americans, within the same period were augmented 36 per cent. Emigration seems to be of very little importance to the United States. In the year 1817, by far the most considerable year of emigration, there arrived in ten of the principal ports of America, from the Old World, 22,000 persons as passengers. The number of emi- grants, from 1790 to 1810, is not supposed to have ex- ceeded 6000 per annum. None of the separate States- have been retrogade during these three enumerations, though some have been nearly stationary. The most remarkable increase is that of New York, which has risen from 340,120 in the year 1790, to 959,049 in the year 1810. The emigration from the Eastern to the Western States is calculated at 60,000 persons per annum. In all the American enumerations, the males uniformly predominate in the proportion of about 100 to 92. We are better off in Great Britain and Ireland, — where the women were to the men, by the census of 1811, as 110 to 100. The density of population in the United States is less than 4 persons to a square mile; that of Holland, in 1803, was 275 to the square mile ; that of England and Wales, 169. So that the fifteen provinces which formed the Union in 1810. would contain, if they were as thickly peopled as Holland, 135 millions souls. The next head is that of Trade and Commerce. — In 1790, the Exports of the United States were above 19 millions of dollars; in 1791, above 20 millions; in 1792, 26 millions ; in 1793, 33 millions of dollars Prior to 1795, there was no discrimination, in the American treasury accounts, between the exportation of domestic, and the re-exportation of foreign articles. In 1795, the aggregate value of the merchandise ex- ported was 67 millions of dollars, of which the foreign produce re-exported was 26 millions. In 1800, the total value of exports was 94 millions ; in 1805, 101 millions; and in 1808, when they arrived at their maximum, 108 millions dollars. In the year 1809, from the effects of the French and English Orders in Council, the exports fell to 52 millions of dollars ; in 1810 to 66 millions; in 1811, to 61 millions. In the first year of the war with England, to 38 millions ; in the second to 27 ; in the year 1814, when peace was made, to 6 millions. So that the exports of the re- public, in six years, had tumbled down from 108 to 6 millions of dollars: after the peace, in the years 1815-16-17, the exports rose to 52, 81, 87 millions dollars. In 1817, the exportation of cotton was 85 millions pounds. In 1815, the sugar made on the banks of the Mississippi was 10 millions pounds. In 1792, when the wheat trade was at the maximum, a million and a half of bushels were exported. The proportions of the exports to Great Britain, Spain, France, Holland, and Portugal, on an average of ten years ending 1812, are as 27, 16, 13, 12, and 7; the actual value of exports to the dominions of Great Britain, in the three years ending 1804, were consecutively, in millions of dollars, 16, 17, 13. Imports. — In 1791, the imports of the United States were 19 millions ; on an average of three consecutive years, ending 1804 inclusive, they were 68 millions , in 1806-7, they were 138 millions ; and in 1815, 133 millions of dollars. The annual value of the imports. 94 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. on an average of three years ending 1804, was 75,000- 000, of which the dominions of Great Britain furnished nearly one half. On an average of three years ending in 1804, America imported from Great Britain to the amount of about 30 millions, and returned goods to the amount of about 23 millions. Certainly these are countries that have some better employment for their time and energy than cutting each other's throats, nd may meet for more profitable purposes. — The American imports from the dominions of Great Britain, before the great American war, amounted to about 3 millions sterling ; soon after the war, to the same. From 1805 to 1811, both inclusive, the average annual exportation of Great Britain to all parts of the world, in real value, was about 43 millions sterling, of which one fifth, or nearly 9 millions, was sent to America. Tonnage and Navigation. — Before the revolutionary war, the American tonnage, whether owned by British or American subjects, was about 127,000 tons ; im- mediately after that war, 108,000. In 1789, it had amounted to 437,733 tons, of which 279,000 was American property. In 1790, the total was 605,825, of which 354,000 was American. In 1816, the ton- nage, all American, was 1,300,000. On an aver- age of three years, from 1810 to 1812, both inclu- sive, the registered tonnage of the British empire was 2,459,000 ; or little more than double the American. Lands. — All public lands are surveyed before they are offered for sale ; and divided into townships of six miles square, which are subdivided into thirty-six sec- tions of one mile square, containing each 640 acres. The following lands are excepted from the sales. — One thirty-sixth part of the lands, or a section of 640 acres in each township, is uniformly reserved for the support of schools ; seven entire townships, contain- ing each 23,000 acres, have been reserved in perpetuity for the support of learning : all salt springs and lead mines are also reserved. The Mississippi, the Ohio, and all the navigable rivers and waters leading into either, or into the river St. Lawrence, remain com- mon highways, and for ever free to all the citizens of the United States, without payment of any tax. All the other public lands, not thus excepted, are offered for public sale in quarter sections of 160 acres, at a price not less than two dollars per acre, and as much more as they will fetch by public auction. It was formerly the duty of the secretary of the treasury to superintend the sale of lands. In 1812, an office, de- nominated the General Land Office, was instituted. The public lands sold prior to the opening of the land- offices, amounted to one million and a half of acres. The aggregate of the sales since the opening of the land-offices, N. W. of the river Ohio, to the end of September, 1817, amounted to 8,469,644 acres ; and the purchase money to 18,000,000 dollars. The lands sold since the opening of the land-offices in the Mis- sissippi territory, amount to 1,600,000 acres. The stock of unsold land on hand is calculated at 400,000,- 000 acres. In the year 1817, there were sold above two millions acres. Post Office. — In 1789, the number of post offices in the United States was seventy-five ; the amount of postage 38,000 dollars ; the miles of post-road 1800. In 1817, the number of post offices was 3,459 ; the amount of postage 961 ,000 dollars ; and the extent of post-roads 51,600 miles. Revenue. — The revenues of the United States are derived from the customs ; from duties on distilled spirits, carriages, snuff, refined sugar, auctions, stamped paper, goods, wares, and merchandise manu- factured within the United States, household furniture, gold and silver watches, and postage of letters ; from moneys arising from the sale of public lands, and from fees on letters patent. The following are the duties paid at the custom house for some of the principal articles of importation: — 7 1-2 per cent, on dyeing drugs, jewellery, and watchwork ; 15 per cent, on hempen cloth, and on all articles manufactured from iron, tin, brass, and lead — on buttons, buckles, china, earthenware, and glass, except window glass ; 25 per cent, on cotton and woollen goods, and cotton twist ; 30 per cent, on carriages, leather, and leather manu- factures, &c. The average annual produce of the customs, between 1801 and 1810, both inclusive, was about twelve mil- lions dollars. In the year 1814, the customs amounted only to four millions ; and in the year 1815, the first year after the war, rose to thirty-seven miUions. From 1789 to 1814, the customs have constituted 65 per cent, of the American revenues ; loans 26 per cent. ; and all other branches 8 to 9 per cent. They collect their customs at about 4 per cent.; the English expense of collection is 61. 2s. 6d. per cent. The duty upon spirits is extremely trifling to the consumer — not a penny per gallon. The number of distilleries is about 15,000. The licences produce a very inconsiderable sum. The tax laid upon carriages in 1814, varied from fifty dollars to one dollar, accord- ing to the value of the machine. In the year 1801 there were more than fifteen thousand carriages of dif- ferent descriptions paying duty. The furniture-tax seems to have been a very singular species of tax, laid on during the last war. It was an ad valorem duty upon all the furniture in any man's possession, the value of which exceeded 600 dollars. Furniture can- not be estimated without domiciliary visits, nor domi- ciliary visits allowed without tyranny and vexation. An information laid against a 'new arm-chair, or a clandestine sideboard — a search-warrant and a convic- tion consequent upon it — have much more the appear- ance of English than American liberty. The license for a watch, too, is purely English. A truly free Eng lishman walks out covered with licences. It is impos- sible to convict him. He hag paid a guinea for his powdered head — a guinea for the coat of arms upon his seals — a three guinea license for the gun he car- ries upon his shoulder to shoot game ; and is so forti- fied with permits and official sanctions, that the most eagle-eyed informer cannot obtain the most trifling ad- vantage over him. America has borrowed, betwern 1791 and 1815, one hundred and seven millions of dollars, of which forty- nine millions were borrowed in 1813 and 1814. The internal revenue in the year 1815 amounted to eight millions dollars ; the gross revenue of the same year, including the loan, to fifty-one millions dollars. Army. — During the late war with Great Britain, Congress authorized the raising of 62,000 men for the armies of the United States, — though the actual num- ber raised never amounted to half that force. In Feb- ruary, 1815, the army of the United States did not amount to more than 32,000 men ; in January, 1S14, to 23,000.* The recruiting service, as may be easily conceived, where the wages of labour are so high, goes on very slowly in America. The military peace estab- lishment was fixed in 1815 at 10,000 men. The Amer- icans are fortunately exempt from the insanity of gar- risoning little rocks and islands all over the world ; nor would they lavish millions upon the ignoble end of the Spanish Peninsula — the most useless and ex- travagant possession with which any European power was ever afflicted. In 1812, any recruit honourably discharged from the service was allowed three months' pay, and 160 acres of land. In 1S14, every non-commissioned officer, musician, and private, who enlisted and was afterwards honourably discharged,was allowed, upon such discharge, 320 acres. The enlist- ment was for five years, or during the war. The wid- ow, child, or parent of any person enlisted, who was killed or died in the service of the United States, was entitled to receive the same bounty in land. Every free white male between eighteen and forty- five, is liable to be called out in the militia, which is stated, in official papers, to amount to 748,000 per- sons. Navy. — On the 8th of June, 1781, the Americans had only one vessel of war, the Alliance; and that was thought to be too expensive, it was sold ! The at- tacks of the Barbary powers first roused them to form a navy ; which, in 1 797, amounted to three frigates. In 1814, besides a great increase of frigates, four seventy-fours were ordered to be built. In 1816, in consequence of some brilliant actions of their frigates, * Peace with Great Britain was signed in December, 1814, at Ghent. AMERICA. 95 the naval service had become very popular through- out the United States. One million of dollars were appropriated annually, for eight years, to the gradual increase of the navy ; nine seventy-fours,* and twelve forty-four gun ships were ordered to be built. Vacant and unappropriated lands belonging to the United States, fit to produce oak and cedar, were to be select- ed tor the use of the navy. The peace establishment of the marine corps was increased, and six navy yards were established. We were surprised to find Dr. Sey- bert complaining of a want of ship timber in America. ' Many persons (he says) believe that our stock of live oak is very considerable ; but upon good authority we have been told, in 1801, that supplies of live oak from Georgia will be obtained with great difficulty, and that the larger pieces are very scarce.' In treat- ing of naval affairs, Dr. Seybert, with a very different purpose in view, pays the following involuntary trib- ute to the activity and effect of our late naval warfare against tbe Americans. ' For a long time the majority of the people of the United States was opposed to an extensive and permanent naval establishment; and the force authorised by the legislature, until very lately, was intended for temporary purposes. A navy was considered to be beyond the financial means of our country ; and it was supposed the people would not submit to be taxed for its support. Our brilliant success in the late war has changed the public sentiment on this subject ; many per- sons who formerly opposed the navy, now consider it an essen- tial means for our defence. The late transactions on the bor- ders of the Chesapeak bay, cannot be forgotten ; the extent of that immense estuary enabled the enemy to sail triumphant into the interior of the United States For hundreds of miles along the shores of that great bay, our people were insulted ; our towns ravaged and destroyed ; a considerable population was teased and irritated ; depredations were hourly committed by an enemy who could penetrate into the bosom of the country, without our being able to molest him whilst he kept on the water. By the time a sufficient force was collected, to check his operations in one situation, his ships had already trans- ported him to another, which was feeble, and offered a booty to him. An army could make no resistance to this mode of warfare ; the people were annoyed ; and they suffered in the field only to be satisfied of their inability to check those who had the dominion upon our waters. The inhabitants who were in the immediate vicinity, were not alone affected by the enemy; his operations extended their influence to our great towns on the Atlantic coast; domestic intercourse and inter- nal commerce were interrupted, whilst that with foreign nations was, in some instances entirely suspended. The treasury documents for 1814 exhibit the phenomenon of the state of Pennsylvania not being returned in the list of the exporting states. We were not only deprived of revenue, but our expenditures were very much augmented. It is probable the amount of the expenditures incurred on the borders of the Chesapeak, would have been adequate to pro- vide naval means for the defence of those waters : the people might then have remained at home, secure from depredation, in the pursuit of their tranquil occupations. The expenses of the government, as well as of individuals, were very much augmented for every species of transportation. Everything had to be conveyed by land carriage. Our communication with the ocean was cut off. One thousand dollars were paid for the transportation of each of the thirty-two pounder can- non from Washington city to Lake Ontario, for the public service. Our roads became almost impassable from the heavy loads which were carried over them. These facts should in- duce us, in times of tranquillity, to provide for the national defence, and execute suce internal improvements as cannot be effected during the agitations of war.' — (p. 679.) Expenditure. — The President of the United States receives about 6000Z. a year ; the Vice President about 600Z.; the deputies to Congress have 8 dollars per day, and 8 dollars for every 20 miles of journey. The first clerk of the House of Representatives receives about 750Z. per annum ; the Secretary of State, 1200Z. ; the Postmaster-General, 750Z. ; the Chief Justice of the United States, 1000Z. ; a Minister Plenipotentiary, 2200Z. per annum. There are, doubtless, reasons why there should be two noblemen appointed in this coun- try as Postmasters-General, with enormous salaries, neither of whom know a twopenny post letter from a general one, and where further retrenchments are sta- ted to be impossible. This is clearly a case to which that impossibility extends. But these are matters * The American seventy-four gun ships are as big as our first-rates, and their frigates nearly as big as ships of the line. where a prostration of understanding is called for; and good subjects are not to reason, but to pay. If, how- ever, we were ever to indulge in the Saxon practice of looking into our own affairs, some important docu- ments might be derived from these American salaries. Jonathan, for instance, sees no reason why the first clerk of his House of Commons should derive emolu- ments from his situation to the amount of 6000Z. or 7000Z. per annum ; but Jonathan is vulgar and arith- metical. The total expenditure of the United States varied, between 1799 and 1811, both inclusive, from 1J to 17 million dollars. From 1812 to 1814, both inclu sive, and all these years of war with this country, the expenditure was consecutively 22, 29, and 38 millions dollars. The total expenditure of the United States, for 14 years, from 1791 to 1814, was 333 millions dol- lars ; of which, in the three last years of war with this country, from 1812 to 1814, there were expended 100 millions of dollars, of which only 35 were supplied by revenue, the rest by loans and government paper. The sum total received by the American treasury from the 3d of March, 1789, to the 31st of March, 1816, is 354 millions dollars; of which 107 millions have been raised by loan, and 222 millions by the customs and tonnage : so that, exclusive of the revenue derived from loans, 222 parts out of 247 of the American rev- enue have been derived from foreign commerce. In the mind of any sensible American, this consideration ought to prevail over the few splendid actions of their half dozen frigates, which must, in a continued war, have been, with all their bravery and activity, swept from the face of the ocean by the superior force and equal bravery of the English. It would be the height of madness in America to run into another naval war with this country, if it could be averted by any other means than a sacrifice of proper dignity and charac- ter. They have, comparatively, no land revenue ; and in spite of the Franklin and Guerriere, though lined with cedar and mounted with brass cannon, they must soon be reduced to the same state which has been de- scribed by Dr. Seybert, and from which they were so opportunely extricated by the treaty of Ghent. David Porter and Stephen Decatur are very brave men ; but they will prove an unspeakable misfortune to their country, if they inflame Jonathan into a love of naval glory, and inspire him with any other love of war than that which is founded upon a determination not to sub- mit to serious insult and injury. We can inform Jonathan what are the inevitable con- sequences of being too fond of glory ; — Taxes upon every article which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot — taxes upon every thing which it is pleasant to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste — taxes upon warmth, light, and locomotion — taxes on every thing on earth, and the waters under the earth — on every thing that comes from abroad, or is grown at home — taxes on the raw material — taxes on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man — taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to health — on the ermine which deco- rates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal — on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice — on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribands of the bride — at bed or board, couchant or levant, we must pay. — The schoolboy whips his taxed top — the beardless youth manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle, on a taxed road : — and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid Iper cent., into a spoon that has paid lb per cent., flings himself back upon his chintz bed, which has paid 22 per cent., — and expires in the arms of an apothecary who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privilege of putting him to death. His whole property is then immediately taxed from 2 to 10 per cent. Besides the probate, large fees are demanded for burying him in the chancel ; his virtues are handed down to pos- terity on taxed marble ; and he is then gathered to his fathers,— to be taxed no more. In addition to all this, the habit of dealing with large sums will make the government avaricious and profuse ; and the system itself will infallibly generate the base vermin of spies and informers, and a still more pestilent race of poli- tical tools and retainers of the meanest and most odious description ;— while the prodigious patronage 96 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. which the collecting of this splendid revenue will i the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American throw into the hands of government, will invest it book? or goes to an American play? or looks at an with so vast an influence, and hold out such means | American picture or statue ? What does the world and temptations to corruption, as all the virtue and yet owe to American physicians or surgeons? What public spirit, even of republicans, will be unable to new substances have their chemists discovered? or resist. Every wise Jonathan should remember this, when he sees the rabble huzzaing at the heels of the truly respectable Decatur, or inflaming the vanity of that still more popular leader, whose justification has lowered the character of his government with all the civilized nations of the world. Debt. — America owed 42 millions dollars after the Re- volutionary war ; in 1790, 79 millions ; in 1803,70 mil- lions ; and in the beginning of January, 1812, the public debt was diminished to 45 millions dollars. After the last war with England, it had risen to 123 millions ; and so it stood on the 1st of January, 1816. The total amount carried to the credit of the commissioners of the sinking fund, on the 31st of December, 1816, was about 34 millions of dollars. Such is the land of Jonathan — and thus has it been governed. In his honest endeavours to better his situ- ation, and in his manly purpose of resisting injury and insult, we most cordially sympathize. We hope he will always continue to watch and suspect his govern- ment as he now does — remembering, that it Ls the constant tendency of those entrusted with power, to conceive that they enjoy it by their own merits, and for their own use, and not by delegation, and for the benefit of others. Thus far we are the friends and admirers of Jonathan. But he must not grow vain and ambitious ; or allow himself to be dazzled by that galaxy of epithets by which his orators and news- paper scribblers endeavour to persuade their sup- porters that they are the greatest, the most refined, the most enlightened, and most moral people upon earth. The effect of this is unspeakably ludicrous on this side of the Atlantic — and, even on the other, we shall imagine, must be rather humiliating to the rea- sonable part of the population. The Americans are a brave, industrious, and acute people ; but they have hitherto given no indications of genius, and made no approaches to the heroic, either in their morality or character. They are but a recent offset indeed from England ; and should make it their chief boast, for many generations to come, that they are sprung from the same race with Bacon and Shakspeare and New- ton. Considering their numbers, indeed, and the favourable circumstances in which they have been placed, they have yet done marvellously little to assert the honour of such a descent, or to show that their English blood has been exalted or refined by their re- publican training and institutions. Their Franklins and Washingtons, and all the other sages and heroes of their Revolution, were born and bred subjects of the King of England, — and not among the freest or most valued of his subjects. And since the period of their separation, ft far greater proportion of their statesmen and artists and political writers have been foreigners, than ever occurred before in the history of any civilized and educated people. During the thirty or forty years of their independence, they have done absolutely nothing for the Sciences, for the Arts, for Literature, or even for the statesman-like studies of Politics or Political Economy. Confining our selves to our own country, and to the period that has elapsed since they had an independent existence, we would ask, Where are their Foxes, their Burkes, their Sheridans, their Windhams, their Homers, their Wilberforces ? — where their Arkwrights, their Watts, their Davys? — their Robertsons, Blairs, Smiths, Stewarts, Paleys, and Malthuses ? — their Porsons, Parrs, Burneys, or Bloomfields ?— their Scotts, Rogers's, Campbells, Byrons, Moores, or Crabbes ? — their Siddons's, Kembles, Keans, or O'Neils !— their Wilkes, Lawrences, Chantrys? — or their parallels to the hundred other names that have spread themselves over the world from our little island in the course of the last thirty years, and blest or delighted mankind by their works, inventions, or examples ? In so far as we know, there is no such parallel to be produced lrom the whole annals of this self-adulating race. In what old ones have they analyzed? What new con- stellations have been discovered by the telescopes of Americans ? What have they done in mathematics ? Who drinks out of American glasses ? or eats from American plates ? or wears American coats or gowns ? or sleeps in American blankets ? Finally, under which of the old tyrannical governments of Europe is every sixth man a slave, whom his fellow-creatures may buy and sell and torture ? When these questions are fairly and favourably an- swered, their laudatory epithets may be aUowed : but till that can be done, we would seriously advise them to keep clear of superlatives. IRELAND. (Edinburgh Review, 1820.) Whitelaw's History of the City of Dublin, tto. and Davies. Cadell 2. Observations on the State of Ireland, principally directed to its Agriculture and Rural Population ; in a Series of Let- ters written on a Tour through that Country. In 2 vols. By J. C. Curwen, Esq., M. P. London, 13 IS. 3. Gamble's Views of Society in Ireland. These are all the late publications that treat of Irish interests in general, — and none of them are of first-rate importance. Mr. Gamble's travels in Ireland are of a very ordinary description — low scenes and low humour making up the principal part of the nar- rative. There are readers, however, whom it will amuse ; and the reading market becomes more and more extensive, and embraces a greater variety of persons every day. Mr. Whitelaw's History of Dub- lin is a book of great accuracy and research, highly creditable to the industry, good sense, and benevo- lence of its author. Of the travels of Mr. Christian Curwen, we hardly know what to say. He is bold and honest in his politics — a great enemy to abuses — va- pid in his levity and pleasantry, and infinitely too much inclined to declaim upon commonplace topics of mor- ality and benevolence. But, with these draw-backs, the book is not ill written; and may be advantageous- ly read by those who are desirous of information upon the present state of Ireland. So great, and so long has been the misgovernment of that country, that we verily believe the empire would be much stronger, if every thing was open sea between England and the Atlantic, and if skates and codfish swam over the fair land of Ulster. Such job- bing, such profligacy — so much direct tyranny and op- pression — such an abuse of God's gifts — such a pro- fanation of God's name for the purposes of bigotry and party spirit, cannot be exceeded in the history of civilized Europe, and will long remain a monument of infamy and shame to England. But it will be more useful to suppress the indignation which the very name of Ireland inspires, and to consider impartially those causes which have marred this fair portion of the creation, and kept it wild and savage in the midst of improving Europe. The great misfortune of Ireland is, that the mass of the people have been given up for a century to a hand- ful of Protestants, by whom they have been treated as Helots, and subjected to every species of persecution and disgrace. The sufferings of the Catholics have been so loudly chanted in the very streets, that it is almost needless to remind our readers that, during the reigns of George I. and George the II., the Irish Ro- man Catholics were disabled from holding any civil or military office, from voting at elections, from admis- sion into corporations, from practising law or physic. A younger brother, by turning Protestant, might de- prive his elder brother of his birth-right : by the same process, he might force his father, under the name of a liberal provision, to yield up to him a part of his landed property; and, if an eldest son, he might, in the same way, reduce his father's fee-simple to a life estate. A Papist was disabled, from purchasing free- IRELAND. 97 hold lands — and even from holding long leases — and any person might take his Catholic neighbour's house by paying £5 for it. If the child of a Catholic father turned Protestant, he was taken away from his father and put into the hands of a Protestant relation. No Papist could purchase a free-hold, or lease for more than thirty years — or inherit from an intestate Protes- tant — nor from an intestate Catholic — nor dwell in Li- merick or Galway — nor hold an advowson, nor buy an annuity for life. j£50 was given for discovering a po- pish archbfshop — £30 for a popish clergyman — and 10$. for a schoohnaster. No one was allowed to be trustee for Catholics ; no Catholic was allowed to take more than two apprentices ; no Papist to be solicitor, sheriff, or to serve on grand juries. Horses of Papists might be seized for the militia ; for which militia Pa- pists were to pay double, and to find Protestant sub- stitutes. Papists were prohibited from being high or petty constables ; and, when resident in towns, they were compelled to find Protestant watchmen. Barris- ters and solicitors marrying Catholics, were exposed to the penalties of Catholics. Persons plundered by privateers during a war with any Popish prince, were reimbursed by a levy on the Catholic inhabitants where they lived. All popish priests celebrating mar- riages contrary to 12 Geo. 1. cap. 3, were to be hanged. The greater part of these incapacities are removed, •hough many of a very serious and oppressive nature still remain. But the grand misfortune is, that the spirit which these oppressive laws engendered still remains. The Protestant still looks upon the Catho- lic as a degraded being. The Catholic does not yet consider himself upon an equality with his former tyrant and taskmaster. That religious hatred which -equired all the prohibiting vigilance of the law for its "estraint, has* found in the law its strongest support ; and the spirit which the law first exasperated and embittered, continues to act long after the original stimulus is withdrawn. The law which prevented Catholics from serving on grand juries is repealed ; but Catholics are not called upon grand juries in the pro- portion in which they are entitled, by their rank and fortune. The Duke of Bedford did all he could to give them the benefit of those laws which are already pas- sed in their favour. But power is seldom entrusted in this country to one of the Duke of Bedford's liberality ; and every thing has fallen back in the hands of his successors into the ancient division of the privileged and degraded castes. We do' not mean to cast any reflection upon the present Secretary for Ireland, whom we believe to be on this subject a very liberal politi- cian, and on all subjects an honourable and excellent man. The government under which he serves allows him to indulge in a little harmless liberality ; but it is perfectly understood that nothing is intended to be done for the Catholics ; that no loaves and fishes will be lost by indulgence in Protestant insolence and tyran- ny ; and therefore, among the generality of Irish Pro- testants, insolence, tyranny, and exclusion continue to operate. However eligible the Catholic may be, he is not elected ; whatever barriers may be thrown down, he does not advance a step. He was first kept out by law ; he is now kept out by opinion and habit. They have been so long in chains, that nobody believes them capable of using their hands and feet. It is not however the only or worst misfortune of the Catholics, that the relaxations of the law are hith- erto of little benefit to them; the law is not yet suffi- ciently relaxed. A Catholic, as every body knows, cannot be made sheriff; cannot be in Parliament ; can- not be a director o*f the Irish Bank ; cannot fill the great departments of the law, the army, and the navy ; is cut off from all the objects of human ambition, and treated as a marked and degraded person. The common admission now is, that the Catholics are to the Protestants in Ireland as about 4 to 1 — of which Protestants, not more than one half belong to the Church of Ireland. This, then, is one of the most striking features in the state of Ireland. That the great mass of the population is completely subjugated and overawed by a handful of comparatively recent settlers,— in whom all the power and patronage of the country is vested,— who have been reluctantly com- pelled to desist from still greater abuses of a lUority, —and who look with trembling apprehension to the increasing liberality of the Parliament and the country towards these unfortunate persons whom they have always looked upon as their property and their prey. Whatever evils may result from these proportions between the oppressor and the oppressed — to whatever dangers a country so situated may be considered to be exposed — these evils and dangers are rapidly increa- sing in Ireland. The proportion of Catholics to Pro- testants is infinitely greater now than it was thirty years ago, and is becoming more and more favourable to the former. By a return made to the Irish House of Lords in 1732, the proportion of Catholics to Pro- testants was not 2 to 1. li is now (as we have already observed) 4 to 1 ; and the causes which have thus alter- ed the proportion in favour of the Catholics, are suffi- ciently obvious to any one acquainted with the state of Ireland. The B,oman Catholic priest resides ; his income entirely depends upon the number of his flock ; and he must exert himself, or he starves. There is some chance of success, therefore, in his efforts to convert; but the Protestant clergyman, if he were equally eager, has little or no probability of persuading so much larger a proportion of the population to come over to his church. The Catholic clergyman belongs to a religion that has always been more desirous of gaining proselytes than the Protestant church ; and he is animated by a sense of injury and a desire of re> venge. Another reason for the disproportionate in- crease of Catholics is, that the Catholics will marry upon means which the Protestant considers as insuffi- cient for marriage. A few potatoes and a shed of turf, are all that Luther has left for the Romanist ; and, when, the latter gets these, he instantly begins upon the great Irish manufacture of children. But a Pro- testant belongs to the sect that eats the fine flour, and leaves the bran to others ; he must have comforts, and he does not marry till he gets them.' He would be ashamed, if he were seen living as a Catholic lives. This is the principal reason why the Protestants who remain attached to their church do not increase so fast as the Catholics. But in common minds, daily scenes, the example of the majority, the power of imitation, decide their habits, religious as well as civil. A Pro- testant labourer who works among Catholics, soon learns to think and act and talk as they do — he is not proof against the eternal panegyric which he hears of Father O'Leary. His Protestantism is rubbed away , and he goes at last, after some little resistance, to the chapel, where he sees every body else going. These eight Catholics not only hate the ninth man, the Protestant of the Establishment, for the unjust privileges he enjoys— not only remember that the lands of their father were given to his father — but they find themselves forced to pay for the support of his religion. In the wretched state of poverty in which the lower orders of Irish are plunged, it is not without considera- ble effort they can pay the few shillings necessary for the support of their Catholic priest ; and when this is effected, a tenth of the potatoes in the garden are to be set out for the support of a persuasion, the intro- duction of which into Ireland they consider as the great cause of their political inferiority, and all their mani- fold wretchedness. In England, a labourer can procure constant employment — or he can, at the worst, obtain relief from his parish. Whether tithe operates as a tax upon him, is known only to the political economist : if he does pay it, he does not know that he pays it; and the burthen of supporting the clergy is at least kept out of his view. But in Ireland, the only method in which a poor man lives, is by taking a small portion of land, in which he can grow potatoes : seven or eight months out of the twelve, in many parts of Ireland, there is no constant employment of the poor: and the potato farm is all that shelters them from absolute fa- mine. If the pope were to come in person, and seize upon every tenth potato, the poor peasant would scarcely endure it. With what patience, then, can he see it tossed into the cart of the heretic Rector, who has a church without a congregation, and a revenue without duties ? We do not say whether these things axe right or WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. wrong — whether they want a remedy at all — or what remedy they want ; but we paint them in those colours in which they appear to the eye of poverty and igno-' ranee, without saying whether those colours are false or true. Nor is the case at all comparable to that of Dissenters paying tithe in England ; which case is pre- cisely the reverse of what happens in Ireland, for it is the contribution of a very small minority to the reli- gion of a very large majority; and the numbers on either side make all the difference in the argument. — To exasperate the poor Catholic still more, the rich graziers of the parish — or the squire in his parish — pay no tithe at ill for their grass land. Agistment tithe is abolished in Ireland ; and the burthen of supporting two churches seems to devolve upon the poorer Cath- olics, struggling with plough and spade in small scraps of dearly-rented land. Tithes seem to be collected in a more harsh manner than they are collected in Eng- land. The minute subdivisions of land in Ireland — the little connection which the Protestant clergyman commonly has with the Catholic population of his parish, have made the introduction of tithe proctors very general — sometimes as the agent of the clergy- man — sometimes as the lessee or middleman between the clergyman and the cultivator of the land ; but, in either case, practised, dexterous estimators of tithe. The English clergymen, in general, are far from ex- acting the whole of what is due to them, but sacrifice a little to the love of popularity, or to the dread of odium. A system of tithe-proctors established all over England (as it is in Ireland,) would produce gen- eral disgust and alienation from the Established Church. 'During the administration of Lord Halifax,' says Mr. Hardy, in quoting the opinion of Lord Charlemont upon tithes paid by Catholics, ' Ireland was dangerously disturbed in its southern and northern regions. In the south princi- pally, in the counties of Kilkenny, Limerick, Cork, and Tipperary, the White Boys now made their first appear- ance ; those White Boys, who have ever since occasionally disturbed the public tranquillity, without any rational meth- od having been as yet pursued to eradicate this disgraceful evil. When we consider, that the very same district has been for the long space of seven-and-twenty years liable to frequent returns of the same disorder into which it has con- tinually relapsed, in spite of all the violent remedies from time to time administered by our political quacks, we can- not doubt but that some real, peculiar, and topical cause must exist ; and yet, neither the removal, nor even the in- vestigation of this cause, has ever once been seriously at- tempted. Laws of the most sanguinary and unconstitution- al nature have been enacted ; the country has been dis- graced, and exasperated by frequent and bloody executions; and the gibbet, that perpetual resource of weak and cruel legislators, has groaned under the multitude of starving criminals ; yet, while the cause is suffered to exist, the ef- fects will ever follow. The amputation of limbs will never eradicate a prurient humour, which must be sought in its source, and there remedied.' « I wish,' continues Mr. Wakefield, < for the sake of hu- manity, and for the honour of the Irish character, that the gentlemen of that country would take this matter into their serious consideration. Let them only for a moment place themselves in the situation of the half-famished cotter, sur- rounded by a wretched family, clamorous for food ; and judge what his feelings must be, when he sees the tenth part of the produce of his potatoe garden exposed at harvest time to public cant ; or, if he have given a promissary note for the payment of a certain sum of money, to compensate for such tithe when it becomes due, to hear the heart-rend- ing cries of his offspring clinging around him, and lament- ing for the milk of which they are deprived, by the cows Deing driven to the pound, to be sold to discharge the debt. Such accounts are not the creation of fancy; the facts do exist, and are but too common in Ireland. Were one of them transferred to canvass by the hand of genius, and ex- hibited to English humanity, that heart must be callous in- deed that could refuse its sympathy. I have seen the cow, the favourite cow, driven away, accompanied by the sighs, the tears, and the imprecations of a whole family, who were paddling after, through wet and dirt, to take their last affectionate farewell of this their only friend and benefac- tor, at the pound gate. I have heard with emotions which I can scarcely describe, deep curses repeated from village to village as the cavalcade proceeded. I have witnessed the gTOup pass the domain walls of the opulent grazier, whose herds were cropping the most luxuriant pastures, while he was secure from any demand for the tithe of their food, looking on with the most unfeeling indifference.'— Wake- field, p. 486. In Munster, where tithe 01 p rt « oes is exacted, risings against the system have constantly occurred during the last forty years. In Ulster, where no such ; tithe is required, these insurrections are unknown. — , The double church which Ireland supports, and that | painful visible contribution towards it which the poor j Irishman is compelled to make from his miserable pit- j tance, is one great cause of those never ending insur- rections, burnings, murders, and robberies, which I have laid waste that ill-fated country for so many ! years. The unfortunate consequence of the civil disa- i bilities, and the church payments under which the J Catholics labor, is a'rooted antipathy to this country. They hate the English government from historical recollection, actual suffering, and disappointed hope ; and till they are better treated, they will continue to hate it. At this moment, in a period of the most pro- found peace, there are twenty-five thousand of the best disciplined and best appointed troops in the world in Ireland, with bayonets fixed, presented arms, and in the attitude of present war : nor is there a man too much — nor would Ireland be tenable without them. — When it was necessary last year (or thought neces- sary) to put down the children of reform, we were forced to make a new levy of troops in this country — not a man could be spared from Ireland. The mo. ment they had embarked, Peep-of-day Boys, Heart-of- Oak Boys, Twelve-o'clock Boys, He art- of- flint Boys and all the bloody boyhood of the Bog of Allen would have proceeded to the ancient work of riot, ra- pine, and disaffection. Ireland, in short, till her wrongs are redressed, and a more liberal policy is adopted towards her, will always be a cause of anxiety and suspicion to this country ; and, in some moment of our weakness and depression, will forcibly extor* what she would now receive with gratit»de and exul tation. Ireland is situated close to another island of greater size, speaking the same language, very superior in civilization, and the seat of government. The conse- quence of this is the emigration of the richest and most powerful part of the community — a vast drain of wealth — and the absence of all that wholesome influ- ence which the representatives of ancient families residing upon their estates, produce upon their tenant- ry and dependants. Can any man imagine that the scenes which have been acted in Ireland within these last twenty years, would have taken place, if such vast proprietors as the Duke of Devonshire, the Marquis of Hertford, the Marquis of Lansdown, Earl Fitzwilliam, and many other men of equal wealth, had been in the constant habit of residing upon their Irish, as they are upon their English estates ? Is it of no consequence to the order, and the civilization of a large district, whether the great mansion is inhabited by an insigni- ficant, perhaps a mischievous, attorney, in the shape of agent, or whether the first and greatest men of the United Kingdoms, after the business of Parliament is over, come with their friends and families, to exercise hospitality, to spend large revenues, to diffuse infor- mation, and to improve manners ? This evil is a very serious one to Ireland ; and, as far as we see, incura- ble. For if the present large estates were, by the dilapidation of families, to be broken to pieces and sold, others equally great would, in the free circula- tion of property, speedily accumulate ; and the mo- ment any possessor arrived at a certain pitch of for- tune, he would probably choose to reside in the better country, near the Parliament or the court. This absence of great proprietors in Ireland neces- sarily brings with it, or if not necessarily, has actually brought with it, the employment of middlemen, which forms one other standing and regular Irish grievance. We are well aware of all that can be said in defence of middlemen ; that they stand between the little farmer and the great proprietor, as the shopkeeper does between the manufacturer and consumer ; and, in fact, by their intervention, save time, and therefore exj f»nse. This maybe true enough in the abstract ; but tl e particular nature of land must be attended to The object of the man who makes cloth is to sell his cloth at the present market, for as high a price as he can obtain. If that price is too high, it soon falls ;- IRELAND. 9^ but no injury is done to his machinery by the superior price he has enjoyed for a season — he is just as able to produce cloth with it, as if the profits he enjoyed had always been equally moderate ; he has no fear, — therefore, of the middleman, or of any species of moral machinery which may help to obtain for him the greatest present prices. The same would be the feel- ing of any one who let out a steam engine, or any other machine, for the purposes of manufacture ; he would naturally take the highest price he could get : for he might either let his machine for a price proportionate to the work it did, or the repairs, estimable with the greatest precision, might be thrown upon the tenant ; in short, he could hardly ask any rent too high for his machine which a responsible person would give ; — dilapidation would be so visible, and so calculable in such instances, that any secondary lease, or subletting, would be rather an increase of security than a source of alarm. Any evil from such a practice would be improbable, measurable, and remediable. In land, on the contrary, the object is not to get the highest prices absolutely, but to get the highest prices which will not injure the machine. One tenant may offer and {>ay double the rent of another, and in a few years eave the land in a state which will effectually bar all future offers of tenancy. It is of no use to fill a lease full of clauses and covenants ; a tenant who pays more than he ought to pay, or who pays even to the last farthing which he ought to pay, will rob the land, and injure the machine, in spite of all the attorneys in England. He will rob it even if he means to remain upon it — driven on by present distress, and anxious to put off the day of defalcation and arrear. The dam- age is often difficult of detection, not easily calculated, not easily to be proved ; such for which juries (them- selves perhaps farmers) will not willingly give suffi- cient compensations And if this is true in England, it is much more strikingly true in Ireland, where it is extremely difficult to obtain verdicts for breaches of covenant in leases. The only method then of guarding the machine from real injury is, by giving to the actual occupier such advantage in his contract, that he is unwilling to give it up — that he has a real interest in retaining it, and is not driven by the distresses of the present mo- ment to destroy the future productiveness of the soil. Any rent which the landlord accepts more than this, or any system by which more, rent than this is obtain- ed, is to borrow money upon the most usurious and profligate interest— to increase the revenue of the pre- sent day by the absolute ruin of the property. Such is the effect produced by a middleman : he gives high prices that he may obtain higher from the occupier ; more is paid by the actual occupier than is consistent with the safety and preservation of the machine ; the land is run out, and, in the end, that maximum of rent we have described is not obtained ; and not only is the property injured by such a system, but in Ireland the most shocking consequences ensue from it. There is little manufacture in Ireland ; the price of labour is low, the demand for labour irregular. If a poor man is driven, by distress of rent, from his potato garden, he has no other resource— all is lost : he will do the impossible (as the French say) to retain it ; and sub- scribe any bond, and promise any rent. The middle- man has no character to lose ; and he knew, when he took up the occupation, that it was one with which pity had nothing to do. On he drives ; and backward the poor peasant recedes, losing something at every step, till he comes to the very brink of despair ; and then he recoils and murders his oppressor, and is a White Boy or a Right Boy;— the soldier shoots him, and the judge hangs him. m _ In the debate which took place in the Irish House of Commons, upon the bill for preventing tumultuous risings and assemblies, on the 31st of January, 1787, the Attorney-General submitted to the House the fol- lowing narrative of facts. «The commencement,' said he, 'was in one or two pa- rishes in the county of Kerry; and they proceeded thus. The people assembled in a Catholic chapel, and there took an oatb to obey the laws of Captain Right, and to starve the clergy. They then proceeded to the next parishes, on the following Sunday, and there swore the people in the same manner; with this addition, that they (the people last sworn) should on the ensuing Sunday proceed to the chapels of their next neighbouring parishes, and swear the inhabi- tants of those parishes in like manner. Proceeding in this manner, they very soon went through the province of Mun- ster. The first object was, the reformation of tithes. They swore not to give more than a certain price per acre; not to assist, or to allow them to be assisted, in drawing the tithe, and to permit no proctor. They next took upon them to prevent the collection of parish cesses; next to nominate parish clerks, and in some cases curates : to say what church should or should not be repaired ; and in one case to threaten that they would burn a new church, if the old one were not given for a mass-house. At last they proceeded to regulate the price of lands; to raise the price of labour; and to oppose the collection of the hearth money, and other taxes. Bodies cf 5000 of them have been seen 'to march through the country unarmed, and if met by any magistrate, they never offered the smallest rudeness or offence; on the con- trary, they had allowed persons charged with crimes to be taken from amongst them by the magistrate alone, unaided by any force.' ' The Attorney-General said he was well acquainted with the province of Munster, and that it was impossible for human wretchedness to exceed that of the peasantry of that province. The unhappy tenantry were ground to powder by relentless landlords; that, far from being able to give the clergy their just dues, they had not food or raiment for themselves — the landlord grasped the whole; and sorry was he to add, that, not satisfied with the present extortion, some landlords had been so base as to instigate the insurgents to rob the clergy of their tithes, not in order to alleviate the distresses of the tenantry, but that they might add the clergy's share to the cruel rack-rents they already paid. The poor people of Munster lived in a more abject state of poverty than human nature could be supposed equal to bear.' — Grattan's Speeches, vol. i. 292. We are not, of course, in such a discussion, to be governed by names. A middleman might be tied up, by the strongest legal restriction, as to the price he was to exact from the under-tenants, and then he would be no more pernicious to the estate than a steward. A steward might be protected in exactions as severe as the most rapacious middleman ; and then, of course, it would be the same thing under another name. The practice to which we object is, the too common method in Ireland of extorting the last far- thing which the tenant is willing to give for land, ra- ther than quit it : and the machinery by which such practice is carried into effect, is that of the middle- man. It is not only that it ruins the land ; it ruins the people also. They are made so poor — brought so near the ground — that they can sink no lower : and burst out at last into all the acts of desperation and revenge, for which Ireland is so notorious. Men who have money in their pockets and find that they are improving in their circumstances, don't do these things. Opulence, or the hope of opulence or com- fort, is the parent of decency, order, and submission to the laws. A landlord in Ireland understands the luxury of carriages and horses ; but has no Telish for the greater luxury of surrounding himself with a mor- al and grateful tenantry. The absent proprietor looks only to revenue, and cares nothing for the disorder and degradation of a country which he never means to visit. There are very honourable exceptions to this charge : but there are too many living instances that it is just. The rapacity of the Irish landlord in- duces him to allow of" the extreme division of his lands. When the daughter marries, a little portion of the little farm is broken off— another corner for Pat- rick, and another for Dermot — till the land is broken into sections, upon one of which an English cow could not stand. Twenty mansions of misery are thus rear- ed instead of one. A louder cry of oppression is lift- ed up to heaven; and fresh enemies to the English name and power are multiplied on the earth. The Irish gentlemen, too, extremely desirous of paJitical influence, multiply freeholds, and split votes; and this propensity tends of course to increase the miser- able redundance of living beings, under which Ireland is groaning. Among the manifold wretchedness to which the poor Irish tenant is liable, we must not pass over the practice of driving for rent. A lets land to B, who lets it to C, who lets it again to D. D pays C 100 WORKS OF THE REV SIDNEY SMITH. his rent, and C pays B. But if B fails to pay A, the I cattle of B, C, D are all driven to the pound, and, af- ter the interval of a few days, sold by auction. A | general driving of this kind very frequently leads to a bloody insurrection. It may be ranked among the classical grievances of Ireland. Potatoes enter for a great deal into the present con- dition of Ireland. They are much cheaper than wheat ; and it is so easy to rear a family upon them, that there is no check to population from the difficul- ty of procuring food. The population therefore goes oh with a rapidity approaching almost to that of new countries, and in a much greater ratio than the im- proving agriculture and manufactures of the country can find employment for it. All degrees of all nations begin with living in pig-styes. The king or the priest first gets out of them ; then the noble, then the pau- per, in proportion as each class becomes more and more opulent. Better tastes arise from better cicum- stances : and the luxury of one period is the wretch- edness and poverty of another. English peasants, in the time of Henry the Seventh, were lodged as badly as Irish peasants now are ; but the population was limited by the difficulty of procuring a corn subsis- tence. The improvements of this kingdom were more rapid ; the price of labour rose ; and, with it, the lux- ury and comfort of the peasant, who is now decently lodged and clothed, and who would think himself in the last stage of wretchedness, if he had nothing but an iron pot in a turf house, and plenty of potatoes in it. The use of the potato was introduced into Ire- land when the wretched accommodation of her own peasantry bore some proportion to the state of those accommodations all over Europe. But they have in- creased their population so fast, and, in conjunction with the oppressive government of Ireland retarding improvement, have kept the price of labour so low, that the Irish poor have never been able to emerge from their mud cabins, or to acquire any taste for cleanliness and decency of appearance. Mr. Curwen has the following description of Irish cottages. 'These mansions of miserable existence, for so they may truly be described, conformably to our general estimation of those indispensable comforts requisite to constitute the hap- piness of rational beings, are most commonly composed of two rooms on the ground floor, a most appropriate term, for they are literally on the earth ; the surface of which is not unfrequently reduced a foot or more, to save the ex- pense of so much outward walling. The one is a refectory, the other the dormitory. The furniture of the former, if the owner ranks in the upper part of the scale of scanti- ness, will consist of a kitchen dresser, well provided and highly decorated with crockery — not less apparently the pride of the husband than the result of female vanity in the wife: which, with a table, a chest, -a few stools, and an iron pot, complete the catalogue of conveniences generally found, as belonging to the cabin; while a spinning-wheel, furnish- ed oy the Linen Board, and a loom, ornament vacant spaces, that otherwise would remain unfurnished. In fitting up the latter, which cannot, on any occasion, or by any display, 'add a feather to the weight or importance expected to be excited by the appearance of the former, the inventory is limited to one, and sometimes two beds, serving for the repose of the whole family! However downy these may be to limbs impatient for rest, their coverings appeared to be very slight; and the whole of the apartment created re- flections of a very painful nature. Under such privations, with a wet mud floor, and a roof in tatters, how idle the search for comforts!'— Curwen, I, 112, 113. To this we shall add one more on the same sub- ject. « The gigantic figure, bare- headed before me, had a heard that would not have disgraced an ancient Israelite — he was without shoes or stockings — and almost a sans-culotte — with a coat or rather a jacket, that appeared as if the first blast of wind would tear it to tatters. Though his garb was thus tattered, he had a manly commanding countenance. I asked permission to see the inside of his' cabin, to which I received his most courteous assent. On stooping to enter at the door I was stopped, and found that permission from another was necessary before I could be admitted. A pig, which was fastened to a stake driven into the floor, with length of rope sufficient to permit him the enjoyment of gun and air, demanded some courtesy, which I showed him, and was suffered to enter. The wife was engaged in boiling Iferead; and by her side, near the fixe, a lovely infant was sleeping, without any covering, on bare board. Whether the fire gave additional glow to the countenance of the babe, or that nature impressed on its unconscious cheek a blush that the lot of man should be exposed to such priva- tions, I will not decide ; but if the cause be referable to the latter, it was in perfect unison with my own feelings. Two or three other children crowded round the mother: on their rosy countenances health seemed established in spite of filth and ragged garments. The dress of the poor woman was barely sufficient to satisfy decency. Her countenance bore the impression of a set melancholy, tinctured with an appearance of ill health. The hovel, which did not exceed twelve or fifteen feet in length, and ten in breadth, was half obscured by smoke — chimney or window I saw none; the door served the various purposes of an inlet to light, and the outlet to smoke. The furniture consisted of two stools, an iron pot, and a spinning-wheel — while a sack stuffed with straw, and a single blanket laid on planks, served as a bed for the repose of the whole family. Need I attempt to describe my sensations? The statement alone cannot fail of conveying, to a mind like yours, an adequate idea of them— I could not long remain a witness to this acme of human misery. As I left the deplorable habitation, the mistress followed me to repeat her thanks for the trifle I had bestowed. This gave me an opportunity of observing her person more particularly. She was a tall figure, her countenance composed of interesting features, and witr every appearance of having once been handsome. < Unwilling to quit the village without first satisfying my- self whether what I had seen was a solitary instance, or a sample of its general state ; or whether the extremity of poverty I had just beheld had arisen from peculiar improvi- dence and want of management in one wretched family ; I went into an adjoining habitation, where I found a poor old woman of eighty, whose miserable existence was pain- fully continued by the maintenance of her grand-daughter. Their condition, if possible, was more deplorable.' — Cur-, wen, 1, 181, 183. This wretchedness, of which all strangers who visit Ireland are so sensible, proceeds certainly, in great measure, from their accidental use of a food so cheap ? that it encourages population to an extraordinary de- gree, lowers the price of labour, and leaves the multi- tudes which it calls into existence almost destitute of every thing but food. Many more live, in conse- quence of the introduction of potatoes; but all live in greater wretchedness. In the progress of population, the potato must of course become at last as difficult to be procured as any other food ; and then let the po- litical economist calculate what the immensity and wretchedness of a people must be, where the farther progress of population is checked by the difficulty of procuring potatoes. The consequence of the long mismanagement and oppression of Ireland, and of the singular circumstanc- es in which it is placed, is, that it is a semibarbarous country: — more shame to those who have thus ill treated a fine country, and a fine people ; but it is part of the present case of Ireland. The barbarism of Ire- land is evinced by the frequency and ferocity of du- els, — the hereditary clannish feuds of the common people, — and the fights to which they give birth, — the atrocious cruelties practised in the insurrections of the common people — and their proneness to insur- rection. The lower Irish live in a state of greater wretchedness than any other people in Europe, in- habiting so fine a soil and climate. It is difficult, of- ten impossible, to execute the process of law. In cases where gentlemen are concerned, it is often not even attempted. The conduct of under-sheriffs is of- ten very corrupt.* We are afraid the magistracy of Ireland is very inferior to that of this country ; the spirit of jobbing and bribery is very widely diffused, and upon occasions when the utmost purity prevails in the sister kingdom. Military force is necessary all over the - country, and often for the most common and just operations of government. The behaviour of the higher to the lower orders is much less gentle and de- cent than in England. Blows from superiors to infe- riors are more frequent, and the punishment for such aggression more doubtful. The word gentleman seems, in Ireland, to put an end to most processes of law. Arrest a gentleman ! ! ! ! — take out a warrant against a gentleman — are modes of operation not very com- mon in the administration of Irish justice. If a man * The difficulty often is to catch the sheriff. IRELAND. 101 strikes the meanest peasant in England, he is either knocked down in his turn, or immediately taken be- fore a magistrate. It is impossible to live in Ireland, "without perceiving the various points in which it is in- ferior in civilization. Want of unity in feeling and interest among the people, — irritability, violence, and revenge, — want of comfort and cleanliness in the low- er orders, — habitual disobedience to the law, — want of confidence in magistrates, — corruption, venality, the perpetual necessity of recurring to military force, — all carry back the observer to that remote and early con- dition of mankind, which an Englishman can learn only in the pages of the antiquary or the historian. We do not draW this picture for censure, but for truth. We admire the Irish, — feel the most sincere pity for the state' of Ireland, and think the conduct of the English to that country to have been a system of cru- elty and contemptible meanness. With such a cli- mate, such a soil, and such a people, the inferiority of Ireland to the rest of Europe is directly chargeable to the long wickedness of the English Government. A direct consequence of the present uncivilized state of Ireland is, that very little English capital tra- vels there. The man who deals in steam-engines, and warps and wools, is naturally alarmed by Peep-of-Day Boys, and nocturnal Carders ; his object is to buy and sell as quickly and quietly as he can ; and he will na- turally bear high taxes and rivalry in England, or em- igrate to any part of the Continent, or to America, ra- ther than plunge into Irish politics and passions. There is nothing which Irelaud wants more than large manufacturing towns, to take off its superfluous popu- lation. But internal peace must come first, and then the arts of peace will follow. The foreign manufactu- rer will hardly think of embarking his capital, where he cannot be sure that his existence is safe. Another check to the manufacturing greatness of Ireland, is the scarcity — not of coal — but of good coal, cheaply raised ; an article in which (in spite of papers in the Irish Transactions) they are lamentably inferior to the English. Another consequence from some of the causes we have stated, is the extreme idleness of the Irish la- bourer. There is nothing of the value of which the Irish seem to have so little notion as that of. time. They .scratch, pick, daudle, stare, gape, and do any thing but strive and wrestle with the task before them. The most ludicrous of all human objects, is an Irishman ploughing. — A gigantic figure — a seven foot machine for turning potatoes into human nature, wrapt up in an immense great coat ; and urging on two starved ponies, with dreadful imprecations, and up- lifted shillala. The Irish crow discerns a coming per- quisite, and is not inattentive to the proceedings of the steeds. The furrow which is to be the depository of the future crop, is not unlike, either in depth or regularity, to those domestic furrows which the nails of the meek and much-injured wife plough, in some family quarrel, upon the cheeks of the deservedly punished husband. The weeds seem to fall content- edly, knowing that they have fulfilled their destiny, and left behind them, for the resurrection of the ensu- ing spring, an abundant and healthy progeny. The whole is a scene of idleness, laziness, and poverty, of which it is impossible, in this active and enterprizing country, to form the most distant conception ; but strongly indicative of habits, whether secondary or original, which will long present a powerful impedi- ment to the improvement of Ireland. The Irish character contributes something to retard the improvements of that country. The Irishman has many good qualities : he is brave, witty, generous, eloquent, hospitable, and open-hearted ; but he is vain, ostentatious, extravagant, and fond of display — light in counsel — deficient in perseverance — without skill in private or public economy — an enjoyer, not an acquirer — one who despises the slow and patient virtues — who wants the superstructure without the foundation — the result without the previous operation — the oak without the acorn and the three hundred years of expectation. The Irish are irascible, pron^ to debt, and to fight, and very impatient of the re- straints of law. Such a people are not likely to keep their eyes steadily upon the main chance, like the Scotch or the Dutch. England strove very hard, at one period, to compel the Scotch to pay a double Church ; — but Sawney took his pen and ink ; and find- ing what a sum it amounted to, became furious, and drew his sword. God forbid the Irishman should do the same ! the remedy, now, would be worse than the disease ; but if the oppressions of England had been more steadily resisted a century ago, Ireland would not have been the scene of poverty, misery, and distress which it now is. The Catholic religion, among other causes, contri- butes to the backwardness and barbarism of Ireland. Its debasing superstition, childish ceremonies, and the profound submission to the priesthood which it teaches, all tend to darken men's minds, to impede the progress of knowledge and inquiry, and to prevent Ireland from becoming as free, as powerful, and as rich as the sister kingdom. Though sincere friends to Catholic emancipation, we are no advocates for the Catholic religion. We should be very glad to see s, general conversion to Protestantism among the Irish ; but we do not think that violence, privations, and in- capacities, are the proper methods of making prose- lytes. Such, then, is Ireland, at this period. — a land more barbarous than the rest of Europe, because it has been worse treated and more cruelly oppressed. Ma- ny of the incapacities and privations to which the Catholics were exposed, have been removed by law ; but, in such instances, they are still incapacitated and deprived by custom. Many cruel and oppressive laws are still enforced against them. A ninth part of the population engrosses all the honours of the country ; the other nine pay a tenth of the product of the earth for the support of a religion in which they do not be- lieve. There is little capital in the country. The great and rich men are called by business, or allured by pleasure, into England ; their estates are given up to factors, and the utmost farthing of rent extorted from the poor, who, if they give up the land, cannot get employment in manufactures, or regular employ- ment in husbandry. The common people use a sort of food so very cheap, that . they can rear families, who cannot procure employment, and who have little more of the comforts of life than food. The Irish are light-minded — want of employment has made them idle — they are irritable and brave — have a keen re- memberance of the past wrongs they have suffered, and the present wrongs they are suffering from Eng- land. The consequence of all this is, eternal riot and insurrection, a whole army of soldiers in time of pro- found peace, and general rebellion wmenever England is busy with other enemies, or off her guard ! And thus it will be while the same causes continue to ope- rate, for ages to come, — and worse and worse as the rapidly increasing population of the Catholics be- comes more and more numerous. The remedies are. time and justice ; and that jus- tice consists in repealing all laws which make any distinction between the two religions ; in placing over the government of Ireland, not the stupid, amiable, and insignificant noblemen who have too often been sent there, but men who feel deeply the wrongs of Ireland, and who have an ardent wi'sh to heal them ; who will take care that Catholics, when eligible, shall be elected ;* who will share the patronage of Ireland proportionally among the two parties, and give to just and liberal laws the same vigour of execution which has hitherto been reserved only for decrees of tyranny, and the enactments of oppression. The in- justice and hardship of supporting two churches must "be put out of sight, if it cannot or ought not to be cured. The political economist, the moralist, and the satirist, must combine to teach moderation and superintendence to the great Irish proprietors. Pub- lic talk and clamour may do something for the poor Irish, as it did for the slaves in the West Indies. Ire- land will become more quiet under such treatment, and then more rich, more comfortable, and more civi- * Great merit is due to the Whigs for tke patronage b» stowed on Catholics. 102 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. ized ; and the horrid spectacle of folly and tyranny, which it at present exhibits, may in time be removed torn the eyes of Europe. There are two eminent Irishmen now in the House *f Commons, Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Canning, who will subscribe to the justness of every syllable we have said upon this subject ; and who have it in their power, by making it the condition of their remaining in office, to liberate their native country, and raise it to its just rank among the nations of the earth. Yet the court buys them over, year after year, by the pomp and perquisites of office, and year after year they come into the House of Commons, feeling deep- ly, and describing powerfully, the injuries of five mil- lions of their countrymen, — and continue members of a government that inflicts those evils, under the piti- ful delusion that it is not a cabinet question, — as if the scratchings and quarrellings of kings and queens could alone cement politicians together in indissoluble unity, while the fate and fortune of one-third of the empire might be complimented away from one minister to another, without the smallest breach in their cabinet alliance. Politicians, at least honest politicians, should be very flexible and accommodating in little things, very rigid and inflexible in great things. And is this not a great thing ? Who has painted it in finer and more commanding eloquence than Mr. Canning ? Who has taken a more sensible and statesman-like view of our miserable and cruel policy, than Lord Castlereagh? You would think, to hear them, that the same planet could not contain them and the op- pressors of their country, — perhaps not the same solar system. Yet for money, claret, and patronage, they lend their countenance, assistance, and friendship, to the ministers who are the stern and inflexible enemies to the emancipation of Ireland ! Thank God that all is not profligacy and corruption in the history of that devoted people — and that the name of Irishman does not always carry with it the idea of the oppressor or the oppressed — the plunderer or the plundered — the tyrant or the slave. Great men hallow a whole people, and lift up all who live in their time. What Irishman does not feel proud that he has lived in the days of Grattan ? who has not turned to him for comfort, from the false friends and open ene- mies of Ireland ? who did not remember him in the days of its burnings and wastings and murders ? No government ever dismayed him — the world could not bribe him — he thought only of Ireland — lived for no other object — dedicated to her his beautiful fancy, his elegant wit, his manly courage, and all the splendour of his astonishing eloquence. He was so born, and so gifted, that poetry, forensic skill, elegant literature, and all the highest attainments of human genius, were within his reach ; but he thought the noblest occupa- tion of a man was to make other men happy and free ; and in that straight line he went on for fifty years, without one side-look, without one yielding thought, without one motive in his heart which he might not have laid open to the view of God and man. He is gone .'—but there is not a single day of his honest life of which every good Irishman would not be more proud, than of the whole political existence of his countrymen, — the annual deserters and betrayers of their native land. SPRING GUNS. (Edinburgh Review, 1821.) The Shooter's Guide. By J. B.Johnson. 12ino. Edwards and Knibb. 1819. When Lord Dacre (then Mr. Brand) brought into the House of Commons his bill for the amendment of the game laws, a system of greater mercy and humanity was in vain recommended to that popular branch of the legislature. The interests of humanity, and the interests of the lord of the manor, were not, however, opposed to each other ; nor any attempt made to deny the superior importance of the last. No such bold or alarming topics were agitated ; but it was contended that, if laws were less ferocious, there would be more partridges — if the lower orders of mankind were not torn from their families and banished to Botany Bay, hares and pheasants would be increased in number, or, at least, not diminished. It is not, however, till after long experience, that mankind ever think of re- curring to humane expedients for effecting their ob- jects. The rulers who ride the people never think of coaxing and patting till they have worn out the lashes of their whips, and broken the rowels of their spurs. The legislators of the trigger replied, that two laws had lately passed which would answer their purpose of preserving game : the one, an act for transporting men found with arms in their hands for the purposes of killing game in the night ; the other, an act for rendering the buyers of the game equally guilty with the seller, and for involving both in the same penalty. Three seasons have elapsed since the last of these laws was passed ; and we appeal to the experience of all the great towns in England, whether the difficulty of procuring game in the slightest degree increased? — whether hares, partridges, and pheasants are not purchased with as much facility as before the passing this act ? — whether the price of such unlawful com- modities is even in the slightest degree increased ? Let the Assize and Sessions' calendars bear witness, whether the law for transporting poachers has not had the most direct tendency to encourage brutal as- saidts and ferocious murders. There is hardly now a jail-delivery in which some gamekeeper has not mur- dered a poacher — or some poacher a gamekeeper. If the question concerned the payment of five pounds, a poacher would hardly risk his life rather than be taken ; but when he is to go to Botany Bay for seven years, he summons together his brother poachers — they get brave from rum, numbers, and despair — and a bloody battle ensues. Another method by which it is attempted to defeat the depredations of the poacher, is by setting spring guns to murder any person who comes within their reach ; and it is to this last new feature in the sup- posed game laws, to which, on the present occasion, we intend principally to confine our notice. We utterly disclaim all hostility to the game laws in general. Game ought to belong to those who feed it. All the landowners in England are fairly entitled to all the game in England. These laws are con- structed upon a basis of substantial justice ; but there is a great deal of absurdity and tyranny mingled with them, and a perpetual and vehement desire on the part of the country gentlemen to push the provi- sions of these laws up to the highest point of tyranni- cal severity. ' Is it lawful to put to death by a spring gun, or any other machine, an unqualified person trespassing upon your Avoods or fields in pursuit of game, and who has received due notice of your intention, and of the risk to which he is exposed V This, we think, is stating the question as fairly as can be stated. We purposely exclude gardens, orchards, and all contiguity to the dwelling-house. We exclude, also, all felonious in- tention on the part of the deceased. The object of his expedition shall be proved to be game ; and the notice he received of his danger shall be allowed to be as complete as possible. It must also be part of the case, that the spring gun was placed there for the ex- press purpose of defending the game, by killing or wounding the poacher, or spreading terror, or doing any thing that a reasonable man ought to know would happen from such a proceeding. Suppose any gentleman were to give notice that all other persons must abstain from his manors ; that he himself and his servants paraded the woods and fields with loaded pistols and blunderbusses, and would shoot any body who fired at a partridge ; and suppose he were to keep his word, and shoot through the head some rash trespasser who defied this bravado, and was determined to have his sport : — Is there doubt that he would be guilty of murder? We suppose no resist- ance on the part of the trespasser ; but that, the mo- ment he passes the line of demarcation with his dogs and gun, he is shot dead by the proprietor of the land from behind a tree. If this is not murder, what is murder ? We will make the case a little better for SPRING GUNS AND MAN TRAPS. 103 the homicide squire. It shall he night ; the poacher, an unqualified person, steps over the line of demarca- tion with his nets and snares, and is instantly shot through the head by the pistol of the proprietor. We have no doubt that this would be murder — that it ought to be considered as murder, and punished as murder. We think this so clear, that it would be a waste of time to argue it. There is no kind of resistance on the part of the deceased; no attempt to run away; he is not even challenged : but instantly shot dead by the proprietor of the wood, for no other crime than the intention of killing game unlawfully. We do not suppose that any man, possessed of the elements of law and common sense, would deny this to be a case of murder, let the previous notice to the deceased have been as perfect as it could be. It is true, a tres- Easser in a park may be killed ; but then it is when e will not render himself to the keepers, upon an hue and cry to stand to the king's peace. But deer are property, game is not ; and this power of slaying deer-stealers is by the 21st Edward I„ de Malifac.tori- bus in Parcis, and by 3d and 4th William & Mary, c. 10. So rioters may be killed, house-burners, ravishers, felons refusing to be arrested, felons escaping, felons breaking jail, men resisting a civil process — may all be put to death. All these cases of justifiable homi- cide are laid down and admitted in our books. But whoever heard, that to pistol a poacher was justifi- able homicide ? It has long been decided, that it is unlawful to kill a dog who is pursuing game in a manor. ' To decide the contrary,' says Lord Ellen- borough, l would outrage reason and sense.' (Vere v. Lord Cawdor and King, 11 East, 3S6.) Pointers have always been treated by the legislature with great de- licacy and consideration. To ' wish to be a dog and to bay the moon, 1 is not quite so mad a wish as the poet thought it. If these things are so, what is the difference be- tween the act of firing yourself, and placing an engine which does the same thing? In the one case your hand pulls the trigger ; in the other, it places the wire which communicates with the trigger, and causes the death of the trespasser. There is the same intention of slaying in both cases — there is precisely the same human agency in both cases ; only the steps are rather more numerous in the latter case. As to the bad effects of allowing proprietors of game to put tres- passers to death at once, or to set guns that will do it, we can have no hesitation in saying, that the first method, of giving the power of life and death to esquires, would be by far the most humane. For, as we have observed in a previous Essay on the Game laws, a live armigeral spring gun would distinguish an accidental trespasser from a real poacher — a woman or a boy from a man — perhaps might spare a friend or an acquaintance — or a father of a family with ten children — or a small freeholder who voted for admin- istration. But this new rural artillery must destroy, without mercy and selection, every one who ap- proaches it. In the case of Hot versus Wilks, Esq., the four judges, Abbot, Bailey, Holroyd, and Best, gave their opinions seriatim on points connected with this ques- tion. In this case, as reported in Chetwynd's edition of Burn's Justice, 1820, vol. ii. p. 500, Abbot C. J. ob- serves as follows : — 1 1 cannot say that repeated and increasing acts of aggression may not reasonably call for increased means of defence and protection. I believe that many of the persons who cause en- gines of this description to be placed in their grounds, do not do so with an intention to injure any person, but resdly believe that the publication of notices will prevent any person from sustaining an injury; and that no person having the notice given him, will be weak and foolish enough to expose himself to the perilous consequences of his trespass. Many persons who place such engines in their grounds, do so for the purpose of preventing, by means of terror, injury to their property, rather than from any motive of doing malicious injury.' ' Increased means of defence and protection,' but in- creased (his lordship should remember,) from the pay- ment of five pounds to instant death — and instant death inflicted, not by the arm of law, but by the arm of the proprietor; could the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench intend to say, that the impossibility of putting an end to poaching by other means, would justify the infliction of death upon the offender ? Is he so igno- rant of the philosophy of punishing, as to imagine he has nothing to do but to give ten stripes instead of two, an hundred instead of ten, and a thousand, if an hun-' dred will not do ? to substitute the prison for pecuniary fines, and the gallows instead of the jail? It is im- possible so enlightened a judge can forget, that the sympathies of mankind must be consulted ; that it would be wrong to break a person upon the wheel for stealing a penny loaf, and that gradations in punish- ments must be carefully accommodated to gradations in crime ; that if poaching is punished more than man- kind in general think it ought to be punished, the fault will either escape with impunity, or the delinquent be driven to desperation ; that if poaching and murder are punished equally, every poacher will be an assassin. Besides, too, if the principle is right in the unlimited and unqualified manner in which the Chief Justice puts it — if defence goes on increasing with aggression, the legislature at least must determine upon their equal pace. If an act of Parliament made it a capital of- fence to poach upon a manor, as it is to commit a bur- glary in a dwelling-house, it might then be as lawful to shoot a person for trespassing upon your manor, as it is to kill a thief for breaking into your house. But, the real question is — and so in sound reasoning his lordship should have put it — ' If the, law at this mo- ment determines the aggression to be in such a state, that it merits only a pecuniary fine after summons and proof, has any sporadic squire the right to say, that it shall be punished with death, before any summons and without any proof ?' It appears to us, too, very singular to say, that many persons who cause engines of this description to be placed in their ground, do not do so with an intention of injuring any person, but really believe that the pub- lication of notices will prevent any person from sus- taining an injury, and that no person, having the no- tice given him, will be weak and foolish enough to ex- pose himself to the perilous consequences of his tres- pass. But if this is the real belief of the engineer — if he thinks the mere notice will keep people away — then he must think it a mere inutility that the guns should be placed at all ; if he thinks that many will be de- terred, and a few come, then he must mean to shoot those few. He who believes his gun will never be called upon to do its duty, need set no gun, and trust to rumour of their being set, or being loaded, for his protection. Against the gun and the powder we have no complaint ; they are perfectly fair and admissible : our quarrel is with the bullets. He who sets a loaded gun, means it should go off if it is touched. But what signifies the mere empty wish that there may be no mischief, when I perform an action which my common sense tells me may produce the worst mischief? If I hear a great noise in the street, and fire a bullet to keep people quiet, I may not perhaps have intended to kill ; I may have wished to have produced quiet by mere terror, and I may have expressed a strong hope that my object has been effected without the destruction of human life. Still I have done that which every man of sound intellect knows is likely to kill ; and if any one falls from my act, I am guilty of murder. ' Fur- ther,' (says Lord Coke,) c if there be an evil intern, though that intent extendeth not to death, it is murder. Thus, if a man, knowing that many people are in the street, throw a stone over the wall, intending only to frighten them, or to give them a little hurt, and there- upon one is killed — this is murder — for he hath an ill intent ; though that intent extended not to death, and though he knew not the party slain.' (3 Inst. 57.) If a man is not mad, he must be presumed to foresee common consequences if he puts a bullet into a spring gun — he may be supposed to foresee that it will kill any poacher who touches the wire — and to that conse- quence he must stand. We do not suppose all preser- vers of game to be so bloodily inclined that they would prefer the death of a poacher to his staying away. Their object is to preserve game ; they have no objection to preserve the lives of their fellow-crea- tures also, if both can exist at the same time ; if Hot 104 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. the least worthy of God's creatures must fall — the rustic without a soul — not the Christian partridge— not the immortal pheasant — not the rational woodcock, or the accountable hare. The Chief Justice quotes the instance of glass and spikes fixed upon walls. He cannot mean to infer from this, because the law connives at the infliction of such small punishments for the protection of pro- perty, that it does allow, or ought to allow, proprie- tors to proceed to the punishment of death. Small means of annoying trespassers may be consistently admitted by the law, though more severe ones are forbidden, and ought to be forbidden ; unless it fol- lows, tbat what is good in any degree, is good in the highest degree. You may correct a servant boy with a switch ; but if you bruise him sorely, you are to be indicted — if you kill him, you are hanged. A black- smith corrected his servant with a bar of iron; the boy died, and the blacksmith was executed. (Grey's Case, Kel. 64, 65.) A woman kicked and stamped on the belly of her child — she was found guilty of mur- der. (1 East, JP. C. 261.) Si immoderate suo jure utatur, tunc reus homicidii sit. There is, besides, this additional difference in the two cases put by the Chief Justice, that no publication of notices can be so plain, in the case of the guns, as the sight of the glass or the spikes ; for a trespasser may not believe in the notice which he receives, or he may think he shall see a gun, and so avoid it, or that he may have the good luck to avoid it, if he does not see it ; whereas, of the presence of the glass or the spikes he can have no doubt ; and he has no hope of placing his hand in any spot where they are not. In the one case, he cuts his ringers upon full and perfect notice, the notice of his own senses ; in the other case, he loses his life after a notice which he may disbelieve, and by an engine which he may hope to escape. Mr. Justice Bailey observes, in the same case, that it is not an indictable offence to set spring guns : per- haps not. It is not an indictable offence to go about with a loaded pistol, intending to shoot anybody who grins at you : but, if you do it, you are hanged : many inchoate acts are innocent, the consummation of which is a capital offence. This is not a case where the motto applies of Vo- lenti non fit injuria. The man does not will to be hurt, but he wills to get the game ; and, with that rash confidence natural to many characters, believes he shall avoid the evil and gain the good. On the contrary, it is a case which exactly arranges itself under the maxim, Quando aliquid prohibetur ex directo, prohibetur et per obiiquum. Give what notice he may, the proprietor cannot lawfully shoot a trespasser (who neither runs nor resists) with a loaded pistol ; he can- not do it ex directo • how then can he do it per obii- quum, by arranging on the ground the pistol which commits the murder ? Mr. Justice Best delivers the following opinion. His lordship concluded as follows : ' This case has been discussed at the bar, as if these engines were exclusively resorted to for the protection of game; but I consider them as lawfully applicable to the protection of every species of property against unlawful trespassers. But if even they might not lawfully be used for the protection of game, I, for one, should be extremely glad to adopt such means, if they were found sufficient for that purpose ; be- cause I think it a great object that gentlemen should have a temptation to reside in the country, amongst their neighbours and tenantry, whose interests must be materially advanced by such a circumstance. The links of society are thereby better preserved, and the mutual advantage and dependence of the higher classes of society, existing between each other, more beneficially maintained. We have seen, in a neighbouring country, the baneful consequences of the non-residence of the landed gentry ; and in an ingenious work, lately published by a foreigner, we learn the fatal effects of a like system on the Continent. By preserving game, gentlemen are tempted to reside in the country; and, considering that the diversion of the field is the only one of which they can partake on the estates, I am of opinion that, for the purpose I have stated, it is of essential importance that this species of property should be inviolably protected.' If this speech of Mr. Justice Best is correctly re- ported, it follows, that a man may put his fcllow- Cieatures to death for any infringement of his proper- ty — for picking the sloes and blackberries off hi» hedges — 'for breaking a few dead sticks out of them by night or by day — with resistance or without resist- ance — with warning or without warning ; a strange method this of keeping up the links of society, and maintaining the dependence of the lower upon the higher classes. It certainly is of importance that gentlemen should reside on their estates in the coun- try ; but not that gentlemen with such opinions as these should reside. The more they are absent from the country, the less strain will there be upon those links to which the learned judge alludes — the more firm that dependence upon which he places so just a value. In the case of Dean versus Ckiyton,Bart., the Court of Common Pleas were equally divided upon the lawfulness of killing a dog coursing a hare by means of a concealed dog-spear. We confess that we cannot see the least difference between transfixing with a spear, or placing a spear so that it will transfix ; and, therefore, if Vere versus Lord Cawdor and King, is good law, the action could have been maintained in Dean versus Clayton ; but the solemn consideration concerning the life of the pointer is highly creditable to all the judges. They none of them say that it is lawful to put a trespassing pointer to death under any circumstances, or that they themselves would be glad to do it ; they all seem duly impressed with the recol lection that they are deciding the fate of an animal faithfully ministerial to the pleasures of the uppei classes of society : there is an awful desire to do thcii duty, and a dread of any rash and intemperate deci- sion. Seriously speaking, we can hardly believe this report of Mr. Justice Best's speech to be correct ; ye« Ave take it from a book which guides the practice of nine-tenths of all the magistrates in England. Does ;i judge — a cool, calm man, in whose kands are the issues of life and death, from whom so many miserable trem- bling human beings await their destiny — docs he tell us, and tell us in a court of justice, that lie places such little value on the life of man, that he would plot the destruction of his fellow-creatures for the preservation of a few hares and partridges ? i Nothing which falls from me' (says Mr. Justice Bailey) < shall have a ten- dency to encourage the practice.' ' I consider them,' (says Mr. Justice Best) ' as lawfully applicable to the protection of every species of property; but even if they might not lawfully be used for the protection of game, I, for one, should be extremely glad to adopt than, if they were found sufficient for that purpose.' Can any man doubt to which of these two magistrates he would rather entrust a decision on his fife, his liberty, and his possessions ? We should be very sorry to mis- represent Mr. Justice Best, and will give to his disa- vowal of such sentiments, if he does disavow them, all the publicity in our poAver ; but Ave have cited his very words conscientiously and correctly, as they are given in the LaAV Report. We have no doubt he meant to do his duty ; we blame not his motives, but his feelings and his reasoning. Let it be observed, that in the whole of this case, we have put every circumstance in favour of the mur- derer. We have supposed it to be in the night time ; but a man may be shot in the day* b) r a spring gun. We have supposed the deceased to be a poacher ; but he may be a very innocent man, who has missed his way — an unfortunate botanist, or a lover. We have supposed notice ; but it is a very possible event that the dead man may have been utterly ignorant of the notice. This instrument, so highly approved of by Mr. Justice Best — this knitter together of the different orders of societjr — is levelled promiscuously against the guilty or the innocent, the ignorant and the informed. No man who sets such an infernal machine, believes that it can reason or discriminate ; it is made to mur- der all alike, and it does murder all alike. Blackstone says, that the law of England, like that of every other well regulated community, is tender of the public peace, and careful of the lives of the sub- jects ; that it Avill not suffer with impunity any crime * Large damages have been given for wounds inflicted by spring guns set in a garden in the day-time, where the party wounded had no notice. SPRING GUNS AND MAN TRAPS. 105 to be prevented by death, unless the same, if committed, would also be punished by death? {Commentaries, vol. iv. 182.) < The law sets so high a value upon the life of a man, that it always intends some misbehaviour in the person who take* it away, unless by the command or express permission of the law.' ' And as to the necessity which excuses a man who kills another se defendendo, Lord Bacon calls even that necessitas cul- pabilis.' (Commentaries, vol. iv. p. 187.) So far this luminary of the law. But the very amusements of the " rich are, hi the estimation of Mr. Justice Best, of so great importance, that the poor are to be exposed to sudden death who interfere with them. There are other persons of the same opinion with this magistrate respecting the pleasures of the rich. In the last ses- sion of Parliament a bill was passed, entitled l An act for the summary punishment, in certain cases, of per- sons wilfully or' maliciously damaging, or committing trespasses on public or private property.' Anno primo, — (a bad specimen of what is to happen,) — Georgii IV. Regis, cap. 56. In this act it is provided, that < if any person shall wilfully, or maliciously, commit any da- mage, injury, or spoil, upon any building, fence, hedge, gate, style, guide-post, mile-stone, tree, wood, under- wood, orchard, garden, nursery-gTound, crops, vegeta- bles, plants, land, or other matter or thing growing or being therein, or to or upon any real or personal pro- perty of any nature or kind soever, he may be imme- diately seized by any body, without a warrant, taken before a magistrate, and hned (according to the mis- chief he has done) to the extent of bl. ; or, in default of payment, may be committed to the jail for three months.' And at the end comes a clause, exempting from the operation of this act all mischief done in hunting, and by shooters who are qualified. This is surely the most impudent piece of legislation that ever crept into the statute book ; and, coupled with Mr. Justice Best's declaration, constitutes the following affectionate relation between the different orders of society. Says the higher link to the lower, i If you meddle with my game, I will immediately murder you ; if you commit the slightest injury upon my real or personal property, I will take you before a magis- trate and fine you five pounds. I am in Parliament, and you are not ; and I have just brought in an act of Parliament for that purpose. But so important is it to you that my pleasures should not be interrupted, that I have exempted myself and friends from the opera- tion of this act ; and Ave claim the right (without al- lowing you any such summary remedy) of riding over your fences, hedges, gates, stiles, guide-posts, mile- stones, woods, underwoods, orchards, gardens, nurse- ry grounds, crops, vegetables, plants, lands, or other matters or things, growing or being thereupon — inclu- ding your children and yourselves, if you do not get out oif the way.' Is there, upon earth, such a mockery of justice as an act of Parliament, pretending to pro- tect property, sending a poor hedge-breaker to jail, and specially exempting from its operation the accu- sing and the judging squire, who, at the tail of the hounds, have that morning, perhaps, ruined as much wheat and seeds as would purchase fuel a whole year for a whole village ? It cannot be urged, in extenuation of such a murder as we have described, that the artificer of death had no particular malice against the deceased ; that his ob- ject was general, and his indignation levelled against offenders in the aggregate. Every body knows that there is a malice by implication of law. ' In general, any formal design of doing mischief may be called malice ; and therefore, not such killing only as proceeds from premeditated hatred and re- venge against the person killed, but also, in many other cases, such as is accompanied with those cir- cumstances that show the heart to be preversely wicked, is adjudged to be of malice prepense.' — 2 Haw. c. 31. 1 For, where the law makes use of the term, malice aforethought, as descriptive of the crime of murder, it is not to be understood in that narrow restrained sense in which the modern use of the word malice is apt to lead one, a principle of malevolence to particulars : for the law, by the term malice, malitia, in this in- stance, meaneth, that the fact hath been attended with such circumstances as are the ordinary symp- toms of a wicked heart, regardless of social duty, and fatally bent on mischief.' — Fost. 256, 257. Ferocity is the natural weapon of the common peo- ple. If gentlemen of education and property contend with them at this sort of warfare, they will probably be defeated in the end. If spring guns are generally set — if the common people are murdered by them, and the legislature do not interfere, the posts of game- keeper and lord of the manor will soon be posts of honour and danger. The greatest curse under heaven (witness Ireland) is a peasantry demoralized by the barbarity and injustice of their rulers. It is expected by some persons, that the severe operation of these engines will put an end to the trade of a poacher. This has always been predicated of every fresh operation of severity, that it was to put an end to poachnig. But if this argument is good for one thing, it is good for another. Let the first pick- pocket who is taken be hung alive by the ribs, and let him be a fortnight in wasting to death. Let us seize a little grammar boy, who is robbing orchards, tie his arms and legs, throw over him a delicate puff-paste, and bake him in a bun-pan in an oven. If ^u^ciung can be extirpated by intensity of punishment, why not all other crimes f If racks and gibbets and ten- ter-hooks are the best method of bringing back the golden age, why do we refrain from so easy a receipt for abolishing every species of wickedness ? The best way of answering a bad argument is not to stop it, but to let it go on in its course till it leaps over the boundaries of common sense. There is a little book called Beccaria on Crimes and Punishments, which we strongly recommend to the attention of Mr. Justice Best. He who has not read it, is neither fit to make laws, nor to administer them when made. As to the idea of abolishing poaching altogether, we will believe that poaching is abolished when it is found impossible to buy game; or when they have risen so greatly in price, that none but people of for- tune can buy them. But we are convinced this never can, and never will happen. All the traps and guns in the world will never prevent the wealth of the mer- chant and manufacturer from commanding the game of the landed gentleman. You may, in the pursuit of this visionary purpose, render the common people sa- vage, ferocious, and vindictive ; you may disgrace your laws by enormous punishments, and the national character by these new secret assassinations ; but you will never separate the wealthy glutton from the phea- sant. The best way is, to take what you want, and to sell the rest fairly and openly. This is the real spring gun and steel trap which will annihilate, not the unlawful trader, but the unlawful trade. There is a sort of horror in thinking of a whole land filled with lurking engines of death — machinations against human life under every green tree — traps and guns in every dusky dell and bosky bourn — the ferce naturd, the lords of manors eyeing their peasantry as so many butts and marks, and panting to hear the click of the trap, and to see the flash of the gun. How any human being, educated in liberal knowledge and Christian feeling, can doom to certain destruction a poor wretch, tempted by the sight of animals that naturally appear to him to belong to one person as well as another, we are at a loss to conceive. We cannot imagine how he could live in the same village, and see the widow and orphans of the man whose blood he had shed for such a trifle. We consider a person who could do this, to be deficient in the very elements of morals— to want that sacred regard to hu- man fife which is one of the corner stones of civil so- ciety. If he sacrifices the life of man for his mere pleasures, he would do so, if he dared, for the lowest and least of his passions. He maybe defended, per- haps, by the abominable injustice of the game laws — though we think and hope he is not. But there rests upon his head, arid there is marked in his account, the deed and indelible sin of blood-guiltiness. 106 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. PRISONS. (Edinburgh Review, 1821.) * Thoughts on the Criminal Prisons of this Country, occa- sioned by the Bill now in the House of Commons, for Con- solidating and Amending the Laws relating to Prisons ; with some Remarks on the Practice of looking to the Task- Master of the Prison rather than to the Chaplain for the Re- formation of Offenders ; and of purchasing the Work of those whom the Law has condemned to Hard Labour as a Punishment, by allowing them to spend a Portion of their Earnings during their Imprisonment. By George Holford, Esq. M.°P. Rivington. 1821. 2. Gurney on Prisons. Constable and Co. 1819. 3. Report of Society for bettering the Condition of Prisons. JBensley. 1820. There are, in every county in England, large pub- lic schools, maintained at the expense of the county, for the encouragement of profligacy and vice, and for providing a proper succession of housebreakers, prof- ligates, and thieves. They are schools, too, conduct- ed without the smallest degree of partiality or favour; there being no man (however mean his birth, or ob- scure his situation,) who may not easily procure ad- mission to them. The moment any young person evinces the slightest propensity for these pursuits, he is provided with food, clothing, and lodging ; and put to his studies under the most accomplished thieves and cut-throats the county can supply. There is not, to be sure, a formal arrangement of lectures, after the manner of our universities ; but the petty larcenous strippling, being left destitute of every species of em- ployment, and locked up with accomplished villains as idle as himself, listens to their pleasant narrative of successful crimes, and pants for the hour of free- dom, that he may begin the same bold and interesting career. This is a perfectly true picture of the prison estab- lishments of many counties in England, and was so, till very lately, of almost all ; and the effects so com- pletely answered the design, that in the year 1818, there were committed to the jails of the United King- dom more than one hundred and seven thousand per- sons !* a number supposed to be greater than that of all the commitments in the other kingdoms of Europe put together. The bodily treatment of prisoners has been greatly improved since the time of Howard. There is still, however, much to do ; and the attention of good and humane people has been lately called to their state of moral discipline. It is inconceivable to what a spirit of party this has given birth ; — all the fat and sleek people, — the enjoy- ers, — the mumpsimus, and l well as we are ' people, are perfectly outrageous at being compelled to do their duty : and to sacrifice time and money to the lower or- ders of mankind. Their first resource was, to deny all the facts which were brought forward for the purposes of amendment ; and the alderman's sarcasm of the Turkey carpet in jails was bandied from one hard- hearted and fat-witted gentleman to another : but the advocates of prison-improvement are men in earnest — not playing at religion, but of deep feeling, and of in- defatible industry in charitable pursuits. Mr. Buxton went in company with men of the most irreproachable veracity ; and found, in the heart of the metropolis, and in a prison of which the very Turkey carpet alder- man was an official visitor, scenes of horror, filth, and cruelty, which would have disgraced even the interior of a slave-ship. This dislike of innovation proceeds sometimes from the disgust excited by false humanity, canting hypoc- risy, and silly enthusiasm. It proceeds also from a stupid and indiscriminate horror of change, whether of evil for good, or good for evil. There is also much party spirit in these matters. A good deal of these humane projects and institutions originates from Dis- senters. The plunderers of the public, the jobbers, and those who sell themselves to some great man, who sells himself to a greater, all scent from afar, the danger of political change — are sensible that the cor- * Report of Prison Society, xiv. rection of one abuse may lead to that of another — feel uneasy at any visible operation of public spirit and justice — hate and tremble at a man who exposes and rectifies abuses from a sense of duty — and think, if such things are suffered to be, that their candle- ends and cheese-parings are no longer safe : and these sagacious persons, it must be said for them, are not very wrong in this feeling. Providence, which has de- nied to them all that is great and good, has given them a fine tact for the preservation of their plunder : their real enemy is the spirit of inquiry — the dislike of wrong — the love of right — and the courage and dil- igence which are the concomitants of these virtues. — When once this spirit is up, it maybe as well directed to one abuse as another. To say you must not torture a prisoner with bad air and bad food, and to say you must not tax me without my consent, or that of my representative, are both emanations of the same prin- ciple, occurring to the same sort of understanding, congenial to the same disposition, published, protect- ed, and enforced by the same qualities. This it is that really excites the horror against Mrs. Fry, Mr. Gur- ney, Mr. Bennet, and Mr. Buxton. Alarmists such as we have described have no particular wish that prisons should be dirty, jailers cruel, or prisoners wretched ; they care little about such matters either way ; but all their malice and meanness are called up into action when they see secrets brought to light, and abuses giving way before the diffusion of intelligence, and the aroused feelings of justice and compassion. As for us, we have neither love of change, nor fear of it ; but a a love of what is just and wise, as far as we are able to find it out. In this spirit we shall offer a few obser- vations upon prisons, and upon the publications before us. The new law should keep up the distinction between jails and houses of .correction. One of each should exist in every county, either at a distance from each other, or in such a state of juxtaposition that they might be under the same governor. To the jail should be committed all persons accused of capital offences, whose trials would come on at the Assizes ; to the house of correction, all offenders whose cases would be cognizable at the Quarter Sessions. Sentence of im- prisonment in the house of correction, after trial, should cary with it hard labour ; sentence of impris- onment in the jail, after trial, should imply an exemp- tion from compulsory labour. There should be no compulsory labour in jails — only in houses of correc- tion. In using the terms Jail and House of Correction, we shall always attend to these distinctions. Prison- ers for trial should not only not be compelled to labour, but they should have every indulgence shown to them compatible with safety. No chains— much better diet than they commonly have — all possible access to their friends and relations — and means of earning money if they choose it. The broad and obvious distinction between prisoners before and after trial should con- stantly be attended to ; to violate it is gross tyranny and cruelty. The jails for men and women should be so far sepa- rated, that nothing could be seen or heard from one to the other. The men should be divided into two class- es : 1st, those who are not yet tried ; 2d, those who are tried and convicted. The first class should be divided into those who are accused as misdemeanants and as felons ; and each of these into first misdemeanants and second misdemeanants, men of better and worse character ; and the same with fehms. The second class should be divided into, 1st, persons condemned to death ; 2dly, persons condemned for transportation : 3dly, first class of confined, or men of the best char- acter under sentence of confinement ; Athly, second confined, or men of worse character under sentence of confinement. To these are to be added separate places for king's evidence, boys, lunatics, and places for the reception of prisoners, before they can be examined and classed : — a chapel, hospital, yards, and work- shops for such as are willing to work. The classifications in jails will then be as follows: — STATE OF PRISONS. 107 Men before Trial Men after Trial. 1st Misdemeanants Sentenced to death. 2d Ditto. Ditto transportation. 1st Felons. 1st Confined. 2d Ditto. 2d Confined. Other Divisions in a Jail • King's Evidence. Criminal Lunatics. Boys. Prisoners on their first reception. And the same divisions for Women. But there is a division still more important than any of these; and that is, a division into much smaller numbers than are gathered together in prisons : — 40, 50, and even 70 and 80 felons, are often placed togeth- er in one yard, and five together for months previous to iheir trial. Any classification of offences, while there is such a multitude living together of one class, is perfectly nugatory and ridiculous ; no character can escape from corruption and extreme vice in such a school. The law ought to be peremptory against the confinement of more than fifteen persons together of the same class. Unless some measure of this kind is resorted to, all reformations in prisons is impossible.* A very great, and a very neglected object in prisons, V+ diet. There should be, in every jail and house of ..orrection, four sorts of diet ; — 1st, Bread and water ; *dly, Common prison diet, to be settled by the magis- rates ; 3dly, Best prison diet, to be settled by ditto ; \thly, Free diet, from which spirituous liquors alto- gether, and fermented liquors in excess, are excluded. All prisoners, before trial, should be allowed best pri- son diet, and be upon free diet if they could afford it. Every sentence for imprisonment should expressly mention to which diet the prisoner is confined ; and ao other diet should be, on any account, allowed to mch prisoner after his sentence. Nothing can be so preposterous, and criminally careless, as the way in Vhich persons confined upon sentence are suffered to ive in prison. Misdemeanants, who have money in iheir pockets, may be seen in many of our prisons with fish, buttered veal, rump steaks, and every other Kind of luxury ; and as the practice prevails of allow- ing them to purchase a pint of ale each, the rich pri- soner purchases many pints of ale in the name of his poorer brethren, and drinks them himself. A jail should be a place of punishment, from which men re- coil with horror — a place of real suffering, painful to the memory, terrible to the imagination ; but if men can live idly, and live luxuriously, in a clean, well- aired, well- warmed, spacious habitation, is it any won- der that they set the law at defiance, and brave that magistrate who restores them to their former luxury and ease ? There are a set of men well known to jail- ers, called Family-men, who are constantly returning to jail, and who may be said to spend the greater part of their life there, — up to the time when they are hanged. Minutes of Evidence taken before Select Committee on Gaols' 1 Mr. William Beeby, Keeper of the New Clerkenwell Prison.— Have you many prisoners that return to you on re-commitment ? A vast number ; some of them are fre- quently discharged in the morning, and I have them back again in the evening : or they have been discharged in the evening, and I have had them back in the morning.' — Evi- dence beforethe Committee of the House of Commons in 1819, p. 278. 'Francis Const, Esq., Chairman of the Middlesex Quarter Sessions. — Has that opinion been confirmed by any conduct you have observed in prisoners that have come before you for trial ? I only judge from the opposite thing, that, going into a place where they can be idle, and well protected from any inconveniences of the weather, and other things that poverty is open to, they are not amended at all ; they laugh at it frequently, and desire to go to the House of Cor- rection. Once or twice, in the early part of the winter, upon sending a prisoner for two months, he has asked whether he could not stay longer, or words to that effect. It i* an insulting way of saying they like it.' — Evidence be- fore the Committee of the House of Commons in 1819, p. 285. * We should much prefer solitary imprisonment ; but are at present speaking of the regulations in jails where that system is excluded. The fact is, that a thief is a very dainty gentleman. Male parta cito dilabuntur. He does not rob to lead a life of mortification and self-denial. The difficulty of controlling his appetites, in all probability, first led him to expenses, which made him a thief to support them. Having lost character, and become desperate, he orders crab and lobster and veal cutlets at a public house, while a poor labourer is refreshing himself with bread and cheese. The most vulnerable part of a thief is his belly ; and there is nothing he feels more bitterly in confinement than a long course of water- gruel and flour-puddings. It is a mere mockery of punishment to say, that such a man shall spend his money hi luxurious viands, and sit down to dinner with fetters on his feet, and fried pork in his stomach. Restriction to diet in prisons is still more necessary, when it is remembered that it is impossible to avoid making a prison, in some respects, more eligible than the home of a culprit. It is almost always more spa- cious, cleaner, better ventilated, better warmed. All these advantages are inevitable on the side of the pri- son. The means, therefore, that remain of making a prison a disagreeable place, are not to be neglected ; and of these, none are more powerful than the regula- tion of diet. If this is neglected, the meaning of sen- tencing a man to prison will be this — and it had better be put in these words — ' Prisoner at the bar, you are fairly convicted, by a jury of your country, of having feloniously stolen two pigs, the property of Stephen Muck, farmer. The court having taken into consideration the frequency and enormity of this offence, and the necessity of re- straining it with the utmost severity of punishment, do order and adjudge that you be confined for six months in a house larger, better, better aired, and warmer than your own, in company with 20 or 30 young per- sons in as good health and spirits as yourself. You need do no work, and you may have any thing for breakfast, dinner, and supper you can buy. In pass- ing this sentence, the court hope that your example will be a warning to others; and that evil-disposed persons will perceive, from your suffering, that the laws of their country are not to be broken with impu- nity.' As the diet, according to our plan, is always to be a part of the sentence, a judge will, of course, consi- der the nature of the offence for which the prisoner is committed, as well as the quality of the prisoner: and we have before stated, that all prisoners, before trial, should be upon the best prison diet, and unrestricted as to what they could purchase, always avoiding in- temperance. These gradations of diet being fixed in all prisons, and these definitions of Jail and House of Correction being adhered to, the punishment of imprisonment may be apportioned with the greatest nicety, either by the statute, or at the discretion of the judge, if the law chooses to give him that discretion. There will be — Imprisonment for different degress of time. Imprisonment solitary, or in company, or in darkness. In jails without labour. In houses of correction with labour. Imprisonment with diet on bread and water. Imprisonment with common prison diet. Imprisonment with best prison diet. Imprisonment with free diet. Every sentence of the judge should state diet, as well as light or darkness, time, place, solitude, society, labour or ease ; ahd we are strongly of opinion, that the punishment in prisons shoidd be sharp and short. We would, in most cases, give as much of solitary confinement as would not injure men's minds, and as much bread and water diet as would not injure their bodies. A return to prison should be contemplated with horror — horror, not excited by the ancient filth, disease, and extortion of jails ; but by calm, well-re- gulated, weU-watched austerity — by the gloom and sadness wisely and intentionally thrown over such an abode. Six weeks of such sort of imprisonment would be much more efficacious than as many months of jolly company and veal cutlets. 108 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. It appears by the Times newspaper of the 24th of June, 1821, that two persons, a man and his wife, were committed at the Surrey Sessions for three years. If this county jail is bad, to three years of idleness and good living — if it is a manufacturing jail, to three years of regular labour, moderate living, and accumulated gains. They are committed principally for a warning to others, partly for their own srood. Would not these ends have been much more effectu- ally answered, if they had been committed, for nine months, to solitary cells, upon bread and water ; the first and last month in dark cells ? If this is too se- vere, then lessen the duration still more, and give them more light days and fewer dark ones ; but we are convinced the whole good sought may be better obtained in much shorter periods than are now resort- ed to. For the purpose of making jails disagreeable, the prisoners should remain perfectly alone all night, if it is not thought proper to render their confinement en- tirely solitary during the whole period of their im- prisonment. Prisoners dislike this— and therefore it should be done ; it would make their residence in jails more disagreeable, and render them unwilling to return there. At present, eight or ten women sleep in a room with a good fire, pass the night in sound sleep or pleasant conversation ; and this is called con- finement in a prison. A prison is a place where men, after trial and sentence, should be made unhappy by public lawful enactments, not so severe as to injure the soundness of mind or body. If this is not done, prisons are a mere invitation to the lower classes to wade, through felony and larceny, to better accom- modations than they can procure at home. And here, as it appears to us, is the mistake of the many excel- lent men who busy themselves (and wisely and hu- manely busy themselves) about prisons. Their first object seems to be the reformation of the prisoners, not the reformation of the public ; whereas the first object should be, the discomfort and discontent of their prisoners ; that they should become a warning, feel unhappy, and resolve never to act so again as to put themselves in the same predicament ; and then as much reformation as is compatible with this the better. If a man says to himself, this prison is a comfortable place, While he says to the chaplain or the visitor that he will come there no more, we confess we have no great confidence in his public declaration ; but if he says, < this is a place of misery and sorrow, you shall not catch me here again,' there is reason to believe he will be as good as his word ; and he then becomes (which is of much more consequence than his own reformation) a warning to others. Hence it is we object to that spectacle of order and decorum — car- penters iu one shop, tailors in another, weavers in a third, sitting down to a meal by ring of bell, and re- ceiving a regular portion of their earnings. We are afraid it is better than real life on the other side of the wall, or so very little worse that nobody will have any fear to encounter it. In Bury jail, which is consider- ed as a pattern jail, the prisoners under a sentence of confinement are allowed to spend their weekly earn- ings (two, three, and four shillings per week) in fish, tobacco, and vegetables ; so states the jailer in his examination before the House of Commons — and we have no doubt it is well meant ; but is it punishment ? We were more struck, in reading the evidence of the jail commitree before the House of Commons, with the opinions of the jailer of the Devizes jail, and with the practice of the magistrates who superintend it.* 'Mr. T. Brutton, Governor of the Gaol at Devizes. — Does this confinement in solitude make prisoners more adverse to return to prison ? I think it does. — Does it make a strong impression upon them? I have no doubt of it. — Does it make them more obedient and orderly while in gaol ? I have no doubt it does.— Do you consider it the most effectu- al punishment you can make use of ? I do. — Do you think it has a greater effect upon the minds of prisoners than any apprehensions of personal punishment ? I have no doubt of it.— Have you any dark cells for the punish- * The Winchester and Devizes jails seem to us to be con- ducted upon better principles than any other, though even thesfc are by no means what jails should be. ment of refractory prisoners ? I have. — Do you find it necessary occasionally to use them ? Very seldom. — Have you, in any instance, been obliged to use the dark cell, in the case of the same prisoner, twice ? Only on one occa- sion, I think. — What length of time is necessary to confine a refractory prisoner to bring him to his senses ? Less than one day.— Do you think it essential, for the purpose of keeping up the discipline of the prison, that you should have it in your power to have recourse to the punishment of dark cells ? I do ; I consider punishment in a dark cell for one day, has a greater effect upon a prisoner than to keep him on bread and water for a month.' — Evidence be- fore the Committee of the House of Commons in 1819, p 359. The evidence of the governor of Gloucester jail is to the same effeet. ' Mr. Thomas Cunningham, Keeper of the Gloucester Gaol. — Do you attribute the want of those certificates en- tirely to the neglect of enforcing the means of solitary con- finement ? I do most certainly. Sometimes, where a cer- tificate has not been granted, and a prisoner has brought a certificate of good behaviour for one year, Sir George and the committee ordered one pound or a guinea from the charity. — Does that arise from your apprehension that the prisoners have not been equally reformed, or only from the want of the means of ascertaining such reformation ? It is for want of not knowing ; and we cannot ascertain it, from their working in numbers. — They may be reformed ? Yes, but we have not the means or ascertaining it. There is one thing I do which is not provided for by the rules, and which is the only thing in which I deviate from the rules. When a man is committed for a month, I never give him any work; he sits in solitude, and walks in the yard by him- self for air ; he has no other food but his bread and water, except twice a week a pint of peas soup. I never knew an instance of a man coming in a second time, who had been committed for a month. I have done that for these seven- teen or eighteen years. — What has been the result ? They dread so much coming in again. If a man is committed for six weeks, we give him work. — Do you apprehend that solitary confinement for a month, without employment, is the most beneficial means of working reform ? I conceive it is. — Can it operate as the means of reform, any more than it operates as a system of punishment ? It is only for small offences they commit for a month. — Would not the same effect be produced by corporal punishment ? Corpo- ral punishment may be absolutely necessary sometimes ; but I do not think corporal punishment would reform them so much as solitary confinement. — Would. not severe cor- poral punishment have the same effect? No, it would harden them more than anything else. — Do you think ben- efit is derived from the opportunity of reflection afforded by solitary confinement? Yes — And very low diet also ? Yes.' — Evidence before the Committee of the House of Com- mons in 1819, p. 391. We must quote also the the evidence of the gover- nor of Horsley jail. ' Mr. William Stokes, Governor of the House of Correc- tion at Horsley. — Do you observe any difference in the conduct of prisoners who are employed, and those who have no em- ployment ? Yes, a good deal ; I look upon it, from what judgment I can form, and I have been a long while in it, that to take a prisoner and discipline him according to the rules as the law allows, and if he have no work, that that man goes through more punishment in one month, than a man who is employed and receives a portion of his labour three months ; but still I should like to have employment, because a great number of times I took men away who have been in the habit of earning sixpence a-week to buy a loaf, and put them in soli- tary confinement : and the punishment is a great deal more without work. — Which of the prisoners, those that have been employed, or those unemployed, do you think would go out of the prison the better men t I think, that let me have a prison- er, and I never treat any one with severity, any further than that they should be obedient, and to let them see that I will do my duty, I have reason to believe, that, if a prisoner is Commit- ted under my care, or any other man's care, to a house of cor- rection, and he has to go under the discipline of the law, if he is in for the value of a month or six weeks, that a man is in a great deal better state than though he stays for six mouths ; he gets hardened by being in so long, from one month to another. — You are speaking now of solitude without labour; do you think he would go out better if he had been employed during the month you speak of? No, nor half; because I never task those people, in order that they should not say I force them to do more than they are able, that they should not slight it ; for if they perforin anytliing in the bounds of reason, I never find fault with them. The prisoner who is employed, his time passes smooth and comlortable, and he has a proportion of his earnings, and he can buy additional diet; but if he has no labour, and kept under the discipline of the prison, it is u tight piece of punishment to go through.— Which of the two STATE OF PRISONS. 109 should you think most likely to return immediately to habits of k;/our on their own account ? The dispositions of all men are pot alike ; but my opinion is this, if they are kept and disci- plined according to the rules of the prison, and have no labour, that one month will do more than six ; I am certain, that a man who is kept here without labour once, will not be very ready to come here again.' — Evidence before the Committee of the House of Commons, pp. 398, 399. Mr. Gumey and Mr. Buxton both lay a great stress upon the quiet and content of prisoners, upon their subordination and the absence of all plans of escape ; but, where the happiness of prisoners is so much con- sulted, we should be much more ajtprehensive of a conspiracy to break into, than to break out of, prison. The mob outside may, indeed, envy the wicked ones within ; but the felon who has' left, perhaps, a scold- ing wife, a battered cottage, and six starving children, has no disposition to escape from regularity, sufficient food, employment which saves him money, warmth, ventilation, cleanliness, and civil treatment. These symptoms, upon which these respectable and excellent men lay so much stress, are by no means proofs to us that prisons are placed upon the best possible footing. The governor of Bury jail, as well as Mr. Gumey, insist much upon the few prisoners who return to the jail a second time, the manufacturing skill which they acquire there, and the complete reformation of man- ners, for which the prisoner has afterwards thanked him the governor. But this is not the real criterion of the excellence of a jail, nor the principal reason why jails were instituted. The great point is, not the average recurrence of the same prisoners ; but the paucity or frequency of commitments, upon the whole. You may make a jail such an admirable place of edu- cation, that it may cease to be infamous to go there. Mr. Holford tells us (and a very curious anecdote it is), that parents actually accuse their children falsely of crimes, in order to get them into the Philanthropic Charity ! and that it is consequently a rule with the governors of that Charity never to receive a child up- on the accusation of the parents alone. But it is quite obvious what the next step will be, if the parents cannot get their children in by fibbing. They will take good care that the child is really qualified lor the Philanthropic, by impelling him to those crimes which are the passport to so good an education. ' If, on the contrary, the offender is to be punished simply by being placed in a prison, where he is to be well lodged, well clothed, and well fed, to be instructed in reading and writing, to receive a moral and religious education, and to be brought up to a trade ; and if this prison is to be within the reach of the parents, so that they may occasionally visit their child, and have the satisfaction of knowing, from time to time, that all these advantages are conferred upon him, and that he is exposed to no hardships, although the confinement and the discipline of the prison may be irksome to the boy; yet the parents may be apt to congratulate themselves on having got him off their hands into so good a berth, and may be considered by other parents as having drawn a prize in the lottery of human life by their son's conviction. This reasoning is not theoretical, but is founded in some degree upon experience. Those who have been in the habit of attending the committee of the Philanthropic Society know, that parents have often ac- cused their children of crimes falsely, or have exaggerated their real offences, for the sake of inducing that society to take them ; and so frequent has been this practice, that it is a rule with those who manage that institution, never to receive an object upon the representation of its parents, unless sup- ported by other strong testimony.' — Holford, pp. 44,45. It is quite obvious that, if men were to appear again, six months after they were hanged, handsomer, richer, and more plump than before execution, the gallows would cease to be an object of terror. But here are men who come out of jail, and say, a Look at us, — we can read and write, we can make baskets and shoes, and we went in ignorant of every thing : and we have learnt to do without strong liquors, and have no longer any objection to work ; and we did work in the jail, and have saved money, and here it is." What is there of terror and detriment in all this? and how are crimes to be lessened if they are thus re- warded? Of schools there cannot be too many. Pe- nitentiaries, in the hands of wise men, may be ren- dered excellent institutions ; but a prison must be a prison— a place of sorrow and wailing ; which should. be entered with horror, and quitted with earnest reso- lution never to return to such misery ; with that deep impression, in short, of the evil which breaks out into perpetual warning and exhortation to others. This great point effected, all other reformation must do the greatest good. There are some very sensible observations upon this point in Mr. Holford's book, who upon the whole has, we think, best treated the subject of prisons, and best understands them. ' In former times, men were deterred from pursuing the road that led to a prison, by the apprehension of encountering there disease and hunger, of being loaded with heavy irons, and of remaining without clothes to cover them, or a bed to lie on; we have done no more than what justice required in relieving the inmates of a prison from these hardships ; but there is no reason that they should be freed from the fear of all other suf- ferings and privations. And I hope that those whose duty it is to take up the consideration of these subjects, will see, that in Penitentiaries, offenders should be subjected to separate con- finement, accompanied by such work as may be found consis- tent with that system of imprisonment; that in jails or houses of correction, they should perform that kind of labour which the law has enjoined; and that, in prisons of both descriptions, instead of being allowed to cater for themselyes, they should be sustained by such food as the rules and regulations of the establishment should have provided for them; in short, that prisons should be considered as places of punishment, and not as scenes of cheerful industry, where a compromise must be made with the prisoner's appetite to make him do the common work of a journeyman or manufacturer, and the labours of the spinning-wheel and the loom must be alleviated by indul- gence.'* This is good sound sense ; and it is a pity that it is preceded by the usual nonsense about t the tide of blas- phemy and sedition? If Mr. Holford is an observer of tides and currents, whence comes it that he observes only those which set one way ? Whence comes it that he says nothing of the tides of canting and hypo- crisy, which are flowing with such rapidity ? — of ab- ject political baseness and sycophancy — of the dispo- sition so prevalent among Englishmen, to sell their conscience and their country to the Marquis of Lon- donderry for a living for the second son — or a silk gown for the nephew — or for a frigate for my brother the * ' That I am guilty of no exaggeration in thus describing a prison conducted upon the principles now coming int^fashion, will be evident to any person who will turn to the latter part of the article, "Penitentiary, Millbank," in Mr. Buxton's Book on Prisons. He there states what passed in conversa- tion between himself and the governor of Bury jail, (which jail, by the bye, he praises as one of the three best prisons he has ever seen, and strongly recommends to our imitation at Millbank). Having observed, that the governor of Bury jail had mentioned his having counted 34 spinning-wheels in full activity when he left that jail at 5 o'clock in the morning on the preceding day, Mr. Buxton proceeds as follows : — " After he had seen the Millbank Penitentiary, I asked him what would be the consequence, if the regulations there used were adopted by him?" " The consequence would be," he replied, " that every wheel would be stopped." Mr. Buxton then adds, "I would not be considered as supposing that the prisoners will altogether refuse to work at Millbank — they will work during the stated hours, but the present incentive being want- ing, the labour will, I apprehend, be languid and desultory." I shall not, on my part, undertake to say that they will do as much work as will be done in those prisons in which work is the primary object ; but, besides the encouragement of the portion of earnings laid up for them, they know that diligence is among the qualities that will recommend them to the mercy of the crown, and that the want of if is, by the rules and regu- lations of the prison, an offence to be punished. The governor of Bury jail, who is a very intelligent man, must have spoken hastily, in his eagerness to support his own system, and did not, I conceive, give himself credit for as much power and au- thority in his prison as he really possesses. It is not to be wondered at, that the keepers of prisons should like the new system: there is less trouble in the care of a manufactory than in that of a jail ; but I am surprised to find that so much reli- ance is placed in argument on the declaration of some of these officers, that the prisoners are quieter where their work is en- couraged, by allowing them to spend a portion of their earn- ings. It may naturally be expected, that offenders will be least discontented, and consequently least turbulent, where their punishment is lightest, or where, to use Mr. Buxton's own words, " by making labour productive of comfort or conven ience, you do much towards rendering it agreeable ;" but must be permitted to doubt, whether these are the prisons of which men will live in most dead.'— Holford, pp. 7B— 80 110 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. captain ? How comes our loyal careerist to forget all these sorts of tides? There is a great confusion, as the law now stands, in the government of jails. The justices are empow- ered, by several statutes, to make subordinate regula- tions for the government of the jails ; and the sheriff supersedes those regulations. Their respective juris- dictions and powers should be clearly arranged. The female prisoners should be under the care of a matron, with proper assistants. Where this is not the case, the feriiale part of the prison is often a mere brothel for the turnkeys. Can any thing be so repug- nant to all ideas of reformation, as a male turnkey visiting a solitary female prisoner ? Surely, women can take care of women as effectually as men can take care of men ; or, at least, women can do so properly, assisted by men. This want of a matron is a very scandalous and immoral neglect in any prison system. The presence of female visitors, and instructors for the women, is so obviously advantageous and proper, that the offer of forming such an institution must be gladly and thankfully received by any body of magis- trates. That they should feel any jealousy of such interference, is too absurd a supposition to be made or agreed upon. Such interference may not effect all that zealous people suppose it will effect ; but, if it does any good, it had better be. Irons should never be put upon prisoners before trial; after trial, we cannot object to the humiliation and disgrace which irons and a particoloured prison dress occasion. Let them be a part of solitary con- finement, and let the words s Solitary Confinement,' in the sentence, imply permission to use them. The judge then knows what he inflicts. We object to the office of prison inspector, for rea- sons so very obvious, that it is scarcely necessary to enumerate them. The prison inspector would, of course, have a good salary; that in England is never omitted. It is equally matter of course that he would be taken from among treasury retainers ; and that he never would look at a prison. Every sort of attention should be paid to the religious instruction of these nnhappy people ; but the poor chaplain should be paid a little better ; — every possible duty is expected from him — and he has one hundred per annum. Whatever money is given to prisoners, should be lodged with the governor for their benefit, to be ap- plied as the visiting magistrates point out — no other donations should be allowed or accepted. If voluntary work before trial, or compulsory work after trial, is the system of a prison, there should be a task-master ; and it should be remembered, that the principal object is not profit. Wardsmen, selected in each yard among the best of the prisoners, are very serviceable. If prisoners work, they should work in silence. At all times, the restrictions upon seeing friends should be very severe ; and no food should be sent from friends. Our general system then is — that a prison should be a place of real punishment ; but of known, enacted, measurable, and measured punishment. A prisoner (not for assault, or refusing to pay parish dues, but a bad felonious prisoner) , should pass a part of his three months in complete darkness ; the rest in complete solitude, perhaps in complete idleness, (for solitary idleness leads to repentance, idleness in company to vice). He should be exempted from cold, be kept perfectly clean, have food sufficient to prevent hunger or illness, wear the prison dress and moderate irons, have no communication with any body but the officers of the prison and the magistrates, and remain other- wise in the most perfect solitude. We strongly sus- pect this is the way in which a bad man is to be made afraid of prisons ; nor do we think that he would be less inclined to receive moral and religious instruction, than any one of seven or eight carpenters in jail, working at a common bench, receiving a part of their earnings, and allowed to purchase with them the deli- cacies of the season. If this system is not resorted to the next best system is severe work, ordinary diet, no indulgences, and as much seclusion and solitude as are compatible with work ; — always remarking, that perfect sanity of mind and body are to be preserved. To this system of severity in jails there is but one objection. The present duration of punishments was calculated for prisons conducted upon very different principles ; — and if the discipline of prisons was ren- dered more strict, we are not sure that the duration of imprisonment would then be quite atrocious and dis- proportioned. There is a very great disposition, both in judges and magistrates to increase the duration of imprisonment ; aid if that is done, it will be dreadful cruelty to increase the bitterness as well as the time. We should think, for instance, six months' solitary imprisonment to be a punishment of dreadful severity ; but we find, from the House of Commons' report, that prisoners are sometimes committed by county magi- strates for two years* of solitary confinement. And so it may be doubted, whether it is not better to wrap up the rod in flannel, and make it a plaything, as it really now is, than to show how it may be wielded with effectual severity. For the pupil, instead of giv- ing one or two stripes, will whip his patient to death. But if this abuse were guarded against, the real way to improve would be, now we have made our prisons healthy and airy, to make them odious and austere — engines of punishment, and objects of terror. In this age of charity and of prison improvement, there is one aid to prisoners which appears to be wholly overlooked ; and that is, the means of regula- ting their defence, and providing them witnesses for their trial. A man is tried for murder, or for house- breaking, or robbery, without a single shilling in his pocket. The nonsensical and capricious institutions of the English law prevent him from engaging counsel to speak in his defence, if he had the wealth of Croesus ; but he has no money to employ even an attorney, or to procure a single witness, or to take out a subpse- na. The judge, we are told, is his counsel ; — this is sufficiently absurd ; but it is not pretended that the judge is his witness. He solemnly declares that he has three or four witnesses who could give a com- pletely different colour to the transaction ; but they are sixty or seventy miles distant, working for their daily bread, and have no money for such a journey, nor for the expense of a residence of some days in an assize town. They do not know even the time of the assize, nor the modes of tendering their evi- dence if they should come. When everything is so well marshalled against him on the opposite side, it would be singular if an innocent man, with such an absence of all means of defending himself, should not occasionally be hanged or transported: and ac- cordingly we believe that such things have happened.! Let any man, immediately previous to the assizes vi- sit the prisoners for trial, and see the many wretches who are to answer to the most serious accusations, without one penny to defend themselves. If it ap- peared probable, upon inquiry, that these poor crea- tures had important evidence which they could not bring into court for want of money, would it not be a wise application of compassionate funds, to give them this fair chance of establishing their innocence ? It seems to us no bad finale of the pious labours of those who guard the poor from ill treatment during their imprisonment, to take care that they are not unjustly hanged at the expiration of the term. * House of Commons' Report, 355. t From the Cromwell Advertiser it appears, that John Brien, alias Captain Wheeler, was found guilty of murder at the late assizes for the county of Waterford. Previous to his execution he made the following confession : — ' I now again most solemnly aver, in the presence of that God by whom 1 will soon be judged, and who sees the secrets of my heart, that only three, viz. Morgan Brien, Patrick Brien, and my unfortunate self, committed the horrible crimes of murder and burning at Ballygarron, and the four unfortu- nate men who have before suffered for them, were not in the smallest degree accessary to them. I have been the cause for which they have innocently suffered death. I have contracted a death of justice with them — and the only and least restitu tion I can make them is, thus publicly, solemnly, and with death befor my eyes, to acqu.t their memory of any guilt in the crimes for which I deservedly suffer! ! ! '—Philanthropist No. 6. 208. Pereunt et imputantur. PRISONS. Ill PRISONS. (Edinburgh Review, 1822.) 1. The Third Report of the Committee of the Society for tlie Improvement of Prison Discipline, and for the Reformation of Juvenile Offenders. London, 1821. 3. Remarks upon Prison Discipline, fyc, ifC, in a Letter ad- dressed to the Lord Lieutenant and Magistrates of the County of Essex. By C. C. Western, Esq., M. P. London, 1821. There never was a society calculated, upon the whole, to do more good than the Society for the Im- provement of Prison Discipline ; and, hitherto, it has been conducted with equal energy and prudence. If now, or hereafter, therefore, we make any criticisms on their proceedings, these must not be ascribed to any deficiency of good will or respect. We may dif- fer from the society in the means — our ends, we are proud to say, are the same. In the improvement of prisons, they consider the small number of recommitments as the great test of amelioration. Upon this subject we have ventured to differ from them in a late number ; and we see no rea- son to alter our opinion. It is a mistake, and a very serious and fundamental mistake, to suppose that the principal object in jails is the reformation of the of- fender. The principal object undoubtedly is, to pre- vent the repetition of the offence by the punishment of the offender ; and, therefore, it is quite possible to conceive that the offender himself may be so kindly, gently, and agreeably led to reformation, by the ef- forts of good and amiable persons, that the effect of the punishment may be destroyed, at the same time that the punished may be improved. A prison may lose its terror and discredit, though the prisoner may return from it a better scholar, a better artificer, and a better man. The real and only test, in short, of a good prison system is, the diminution of offences by the terror of the punishment. If it can be shown that, in proportion as attention and expense have been employed upon the improvement of prisons, the num- ber of commitments has been diminished, — this in- deed would be a convincing proof that such care and attention were well employed. But the very reverse is the case ; the number of commitments within these last ten years having nearly doubled all over Eng- land. The following are stated to be the committals in Norfolk county gaol. From 1796 to 1815, the number averaged about 80. In 1816 it was 134 1817 - 142 1818 - 159 1819 - 161 1820 - 223.- -Report, p. 57 In Staffordshire, the commitments have gradually increased from 195 in 1815, to 443 in 1820— though the jail has been built since Howard's time, at an expense of 30,000Z. — (Report, p. 67.) In Wiltshire, in a pri- son which has cost the county 40,000?., the commit- ments have increased from 207 in 1817, to 504 in 1821. Within this period, to the eternal scandal and disgrace of our laws, 378 persons have been committed for Game offences — constituting a sixth part of all the persons committed : — so much for what our old friend, Mr. Justice Best, would term the unspeakable advan- tages of country gentlemen residing upon their own property ! When the Committee was appointed in the county of Essex, in the year 1818, to talce into consideration the state of the jail and house of correction, they found that the number of prisoners annually commit- ted had increased, within the ten preceding years, from 559 to 1993 ; and there is little doubt (adds Mr. Western) of this portion being a tolerable specimen of the whole kingdom. We are far from attributing this increase solely to the imperfection of prison dis- cipline. Increase of population, new statutes, the ex- tension of the breed of pheasants, landed and mercan- tile distress, are very operative causes. But the in- crease of commitments is a stronger proof against the present state of prison discipline, than the decrease of recommitments is in its favour. We may possibly have made some progress in the art of teaching him wbo has done wrong, to do so no more ; but there is no proof that we have learnt the more important art, of deterring those from doing wrong who are doubt- ing whether they shall do it or not, and who, of course, will be principally guided in their decision by the sufferings of those who have previously yielded to temptation. There are some assertions in the Report of the So- ciety, to which we can hardly give credit, — not that we have the slightest suspicion of any intentional misrepresentation, but that we believe there must be some unintentional error. ' The Ladies' Committees visiting Newgate and the Bo- rough Compter, have continued to devote themselves to the improvement of the female prisoners, in a spirit worthy of their enlightened zeal and Christian charity. The beneficial effects of their exertions have been evinced by the progressive decrease in the number of female prisoners recommitted, which lias diminished, since the visits of the ladies to Newgate, no less than 40 per cent.' That is, that Mrs. Fry and her friends have re- claimed forty women out of every hundred, who, but for them, would have reappeared in jails. Nobody admires and respects Mrs. Fry more than we do ; but this fact is scarcely credible : and, if accurate, ought, injustice to the reputation of the Society and its real interests, to have been thoroughly substantiated by names and documents. The ladies certainly lay claim to no such extraordinary success in their own Report quoted in the Appendix ; but speaking with becoming modesty and moderation of the result of their labours. The enemies of all these reforms accuse the reformers of enthusiasm and exaggeration. It is of the greates-t possible consequence, therefore, that their state- ments should be correct, and their views practical ; and that all strong assertions should be supported by strong documents. The English are a calm, reflect- ing people ; they will give time and money when they are convinced ; but they love dates, names, and certi- ficates. In the midst of the most heart-rending narra- tives, Bull requires the day of the month, the year of our Lord, the name of the parish, and the counter- sign of three or four respectable householders. Af- ter these affecting circumstances, he can no longer hold out ; but gives way to the kindness of his na- ture — puffs, blubbers, and subscribes ! A case is stated in the Hertford house of correction, which so much more resembles the sudden conver- sions of the Methodist Magazine, than the slow and uncertain process by which repentance is produced in real life, that we are a little surprised the society should have inserted it. ' Two notorious poachers, no less than bad men, were com- mitted for three months, for not paying the penalty after con- viction, but who, in consequence of extreme contrition and good conduct, were, at the intercession of the clergyman of the parish, released before the expiration of tluir term of punish- ment. Upon leaving the house of correction, they declared that they had been completely brought to their senses — spoke with gratitude of the benefit they had derived from the advice of the chaplain, and promised, upon their return to the parish, that they would go to their minister, express their thanks for his interceding for them ; and moreover that they would for the future attend their duty regularly at church. It is plea- sing to add, that these promises have been faithfully fulfilled.' —App. to Third Report, pp. 29, 30. Such statements prove nothing, but that the clergy- man who makes them is an amiable man, and proba- bly a college tutor. Their introduction, however, in the Report of a society depending upon public opinion for success, is very detrimental. It is not fair to state the recommitments of one pri- son, and compare them with those of another, perhaps very differently circumstanced, — the recommitments, for instance, of a county jail, where offences are gene- rally of serious magnitude, with those of a borough, where the most trifling faults are punished. The im- portant thing would be, to give a table of recommit- ments, in the same prison, for a series of years, — the average of recommitments, for example, every five years in each prison for twenty years ^past. If the society can obtain this, it will tie a document of some 112 WORKS" OF THE REV SIDNEY SMITH. importance, (though of less perhaps than they would consider it to be). At present they tell us, that the average of recommitments in certain prisons is 3 per cent. : in certain other prisons 5 per cent. : but what were they twenty years ago in the same prison? — what were they five years ago ? If recommitments are to be the test, we must know whether these are becoming, in any given prison, more or less frequent, before we can determine whether that prison is better or worse governed than formerly. Recommitments will of course be more numerous where prisoners are received from large towns, and from the resorts of soldiers and sailors ; because it is in these situations that we may expect the most hardened offenders The different nature of the two soils which grow the crimes, must be considered before the produce gath sred into prisons can be justly compared. The quadruple column of the state of prisons for each year, is a very useful and important document and we hope, in time, the society will give us a gene- ral and particular table of commitments and recom mitments carried back for twenty or thirty years ; so that the table may contain (of Gloucester jail, for in- stance), 1st, the greatest number it can contain ; 2dly. the greatest number it did contain at any one period in each year ; 3dly, its classification ; 4thly, the great- est number committed in any given year ; 5thly, four averages of five years each, taken Irom the twenty years preceding, and stating the greatest number of commitments ; 6thly, the greatest number of recom- mitments in the year under view ; and four averages of recommitments, made in the same manner as trie average of the commitments ; and then totals at the bottom of the columns. Tables so constructed would throw great light upon the nature and efficacy of im- prisonment. We wish the society would pay a little more atten- tion to the question of solitary imprisonment, both in darkness and in light ; and to the extent to which it may be carried. Mr. Western has upon this subject some ingenious ideas. 'It appears to me, that, if relieved from these impediments, and likewise from any idea of the necessity of making the labour of prisoners profitable, the detail of corrective prison discipline would not be difficult for anybody to chalk out. I would first premise, that the only punishment for refractory conduct, or any misbehaviour in the gaol, should, in my opinion, be solitary confinement; and that, instead of being in a dark hole, it should be in some part of the house where they could fully see the light of, day ; and I am not sure that it might not be desirable in some cases, if possible, that they should see the surrounding country and moving objects at a distance, and everything that man delights in, removed at the same time from any intercourse or word or look with any human being, and quite out of the reach of being themselves seen. I consi- der such confinement would be a punishment very severe, and calculated to produce a far better effect than darkness. All the feelings that are good in men would be much more likely to be kept alive ; the loss of liberty, and all the blessings of life which honesty will insure, more deeply to be felt. There would not be so much danger of any delinquent sinking into that state of sullen, insensible condition, of incorrigible obsti- nacy, which sometimes occurs. If he does under those circum- stances, we have a right to keep him out of the way of mis- chief, and let him there remain. But I believe such solitary confinements as I have described, with scanty fare, would very rarely fail of its effects.' — Western's Remarks, pp. 59, 60. There is a good deal in this ; it is well worth the trial ; and we hope the society will notice it in their next report. It is very difficult to hit upon degrees ; but we can- not help thinking the society lean too much to a sys- tem of indulgence and education in jails. We shall be very glad to see them more stern and Spartan in their discipline. They recommend work, and even hard work ; but they do not insist upon it, that the only work done in jails by felons should be hard, dull, ana uninteresting ; they do not protest against the conver- sion of jails into schools and manufactories. Look, for example, to l Preston house of correction.' 'Preston house of correction is justly distinguished by the industry which prevails. Here an idle hand is rarely to be found. There were lately 150 looms in full employ, from each of which the average weekly earnings are 55. About 150 pieces of cotton goods am worked off per week. A consider- able portion of the looms are of the prisoners' own manufacture. In one month, an experienced workman will be able to earn the cost of his gaol allowance of food. Weaving has these advantages over other prison labour : the noise of the shuttle prevents conversation, and the progress of the work constantly requires the eye. The accounts of this prison, contained in She. Appendix, deserve particular attention, as there appears to be a balance of clear profit to the county, from the labour of the prisoners, in the year, of 13981. 9s. Id. This sum we, earned by weaving and cleaning cotton only; the prisoners being be sides employed in tailoring, whitewashing, flagging, slating, painting, carpentering, and labourers' work, the earnings of which are not included in the above account.' — Third Report, pp. 21, 22. 'At Worcester county gaol, the system of employment is admirable. Every article of dress worn by the prisoners is made from the raw material: sacking and bags are the only articles made for sale. — lb. p. 23. ' In many prisons, the instruction of the prisoners in reading and writing has been attended with excellent effects. Schools have been formed at Bedford, Durham, Chelmsford, Win- chester, Hereford, Maidstone, Leicester house of correction, Shrewsbury, Warwick, Worcester, &c. Much valuable as- sistance has been derived in this department from the labours of respectable individuals, especially females, acting under the sanction of magistrates, and direction of the chaplain.' — lb. pp. 30, 31. We again enter our decided protest against these modes of occupation in prisons ; they are certainly better than mere idleness spent in society ; but they are not the kind* of occupations which render prisons terrible. We would banish all the looms of Preston jail, and substitute nothing but the tread- wheel, or the capstan, or some other species of labour where the la- bourer could not see the results of his toil, — where it was as monotonous, irksome, and dull as possible, — pulling and pushing, instead of reading and writing, — no share of the profits — not a single shilling. There should be no tea and sugar, — no assemblage of female felons round the washing-tub, — nothing but beating hemp, and pulling oakum, and pounding bricks, — no work but what was tedious, unusual, and unfeminine. Man, woman, boy and girl, should all leave the jail, unimpaired indeed in health, but heartily wearied of their residence ; and taught, by sad experience, to consider it as the greatest misfortune of their lives to return to it. We have the strongest belief that the present lenity of jails, the education carried on there — the cheerful assemblage of workmen — the indul- gence in diet — the shares of earnings enjoyed by pri- soners, are one great cause of the astonishingly rapid increase of commitments. Mr. Western, who entirely agrees with us upon these points, has the following judicious observations upon the severe system : — 'It may be imagined by some persons, that the rules here prescribed, are too severe; but such treatment is, in my opinion, the tenderest mercy, compared with that indulgence which is so much in practice, and which directly tends to ruin, instead of saving its unfortunate victim. This severity it is, which in truth forms the sole effective means which imprison- ment gives ; only one mitigation therefore, if such it may be termed, can be admissible, and that is, simply to shorten the duration of the imprisonment. The sooner the prisoner comes out the better, if fully impressed with dread of what he has suffered, and communicates information to his friends what they may expect if they get there. It appears to me, indeed, that one great and primary object we ought to have in view is, generally to shorten the duration of imprisonment, at the same time we make it such a punishment as is likely to deter, correct, and reform ; shorten the duration of imprisonment before trial, which we are called upon, by every principle of moral and political justice, to do ; shorten also the duration of imprisonment after trial, by the means here described; and I am certain our prisons would soon lose, or rather would never see, half the number of their present inhabitants. The long duration of imprisonment, where the discipline is less severe, renders it perfectly familiar, and, in consequence, not only destitute of any useful influence, but obviously productive of the worst effects ; yet this is the present practice ; and I think, indeed, criminals are now sentenced to a longer period of con- finement than formerly. ' The deprivation of liberty certainly is a punishment under any circumstances ; but the system generally pursued in our gaols might rather be considered as a palliative of that pun- ishment, than to make it effectual to any good purpose. An idle life, society unrestrained, with associates of similar habits, better fare and lodgings in many cases, and in few, if any, worse than falls to the lot of the hard working and industrious PRISONS 113 peasant ; and very often much better than the prisoners were in the enjoyment of before they were apprehended. 'I do not know what could be devised more agreeable to all the different classes of offenders than this sort of treat- ment: the old hardened sinner, the juvenile offender, or the idle vagabond, who runs away and leaves a sick wife and family to be provided for by his parish, alike have little or no apprehension, at present, of any imprisonment to which they may be sentenced; and thus are the most effective means we possess to correct and reform rendered totally unavailable, and even perverted, to the more certain ruin of those who might be restored to society good and valuable members of it. 'There are, it is true, various occupations now introduced into many prisons, but which, I confess, I think of very little use; drawing and preparing straws, platting, knitting, heading pins, &c., weaving, and working at a trade even, as it is generally carried on — prisoners coaled to the per- formance of it, the task easy, the reward immediate — afford rather the means of passing away the time agreeably. These occupations are indeed better than absolute idleness, notwithstanding that imprisonment may be rendered less irksome thereby. I am far from denying the advantage, still less would I be supposed to derogate from the merits of those who, with.every feeling of humanity, and with inde- fatigable pains, in many instances, have established such means of employment; and some of them for women, with washing, &c, amount to hard labour; but I contend that, for men, they are applicable only to a house of industry, and by no means suited to the corrective discipline which should be found in a prison Individuals are sent here to be punished, and for that sole purpose; in many cases for crimes which have induced the forfeiture of life : they are not sent to be educated, or apprenticed to a trade. The horrors of dungeon imprisonment, to the credit of the age, no longer exist. But if no cause of dread is substituted, by what indicatifin of common sense is it that we send crimi- nals there at all ? If prisons are to be made into places in which persons of both sexes and all ages may be well fed, clothed, lodged, educated, and taught a trade, where they may find pleasant society, and are required not to take heed for the morrow, the present inhabitants should be turned out, and the most deserving and industrious of our poorest fellow-subjects should be invited to take their place, which I have no doubt they would be eager to do.' — Western, p. 13—17. In these sentiments we most cordially agree. They are well worth the most serious attention of the so- ciety. The following is a sketch from Mr. Western's book of what a prison life should be. It is impossible to write with more good sense, and a more thorough knowledge of the subject. ' The operations of the day should begin with the greatest punctuality at a given hour; and, as soon as the prisoners have risen from their beds, they should be, according to their several classes, marched to the workhouses, where they should be kept to hard labour two hours at least ; from thence they should be taken back to wash, shave, comb, and clean themselves ; thence to the chapel to hear a short prayer, or the governor or deputy should read to them in their respective day-rooms; and then their breakfast, which may, altogether, occupy an hour and a half or more. I have stated, in a former part of my letter, that the hours of meals and leisure should be in solitude, in the sleeping cells of the prison ; but I presume, for the moment, this may not always be practicable. I will therefore consider the case as if the classes assembled at meal-times in the different day-rooms. After breakfast they should return to hard labour for three or four hours, and then take another hour for dinner; labour after dinner two or three hours, and their supper given them to eat in solitude in their sleeping cells. 'This marching backwards and forwards to chapel and mill-house, &c, may appear objectionable, but it has not been so represented to me in the prisons where it actually now takes place ; and it is, to my apprehension, materially useful in many respects. The object is to keep the prisoners in a state of constant motion, so that there shall be no lounging time or loitering, which is always favourable to mischief or cabal. For the same reason it'is I propose two hours' labour the moment they are up, and before washing, &c, that there may be no time lost, and that they may be- gin the day by a portion of labour, which will tend to keep them quiet and obedient the remainder of it. Each interval for meal, thus occurring between labour hours, has also a tendency to render the mischief of intercourse less pro- bable, and at the same time the evening association, which is most to be apprehended in this respect, is entirely cut off. The frequent moving of the prisoners from place to place keeps the governor and sub-officers of the prison in a simi- lar state of activity and attention, which is likewise of advantage, though their numbers should be such as to pre- vent their duty becoming too arduous or irksome. Their situation is not pleasant, and their responsibility is great. An able and attentive governor, who executes all his ardu- ous duties with unremitting zeal and fidelity, is a most valuable public servant, and entitled to the greatest respect. He must be a man of no ordinary capacity, with a liberal and comprehensive mind, possessing a control over his own passions, firm, and undaunted, a character that commands from those under him, instinctively, as it were, respect and regard. In vain are our buddings, and rules, and regula tions, if the choice of the governor is not made an object of primary and mo»t solicitous attention and consideration. 'It does not appear to me necessary for the prisoners to have more than three hours leisure, inclusive of meal-times ; and I am convinced the close of the day must be in solitude. Eight or ten hours will have passed in company with their fellow prisoners of the same class (for I am presuming that a separate compartment of the workhouse will be allotted to each) where, though they cannot associate to enjoy so ciety as they would wish, no gloom of solitude can oppress them: there is more danger even then of too close an in- tercourse and conversation, though a ready cure is in that case to be found by a wheel put in motion, the noise of which speedily overcomes the voice. Some time after Saturday night should be allowed to them, more particularly to cleanse themselves and their clothes, and they should have a bath, cold or warm, if necessary ; and on the Sun- day they should be dressed in their best clothes, and the day should be spent wholly in the chapel, the cell, and the air- ing-ground; the latter in presence of a day-watchman, as I have described to be in practice at Warwick. I say nothing about teaching to read, write, work, &c. &c. ; any propor- tion of time necessary for any useful purpose may be spar- ed from the hours of labour or of rest, according to circum- stances ; but I do not place any reliance upon improvement in any branch of education : they would not, indeed, be there long enough. All I want them to learn is, that there exists the means of punishment for crime, and be fully im- pressed with dread of repetition of what they have under- gone; and a short time will suffice for that purpose. Now, if each successive day is spent in this manner, can it be doubted that the frequent commission of crime would be checked, and more done to deter, correct, and reform, than could be accomplished by any other punishment ! A pe- riod of such discipline, longer or shorter, according to the nature of the offence, would surely be sufficient for any vi- olation of the law short of wiurder, or that description of outrage which is likely to lead on to the perpetration of it. This sort of treatment is not to be overcome : it cannot be braved, or laughed at, or disregarded by any force of ani- mal spirits, however strong or vigorous of mind or body the individual may be. The dull, unvarying course of hard labour, with hard fare and seclusion, must in time become so painfully irksome, and so wear and distress him, that he will inevitably, in the end, be subdued' — Western, p. 64 —69. There is nothing in the Report of the Prison Society so good as this. The society very properly observe upon the badness of town jails, and the necessity for their suppression. Most towns cannot spare the funds necessary for build- ing a good jail. Shopkeepers cannot spare the time for its superintendence ; and bence it happens that town jails are almost always in a disgraceful state. — The society frequently allude to the diffusion of tracts. If education is to be continued in jails, and tracts are to be dispersed, we cannot help lamenting that the tracts, though full of good principles, are so intolera- bly stupid — and all apparently constructed upon the supposition, that a thief or a peccant ploughman are inferior in" common sense to a boy of five years old. — The story generally is, that a labourer with six chil- dren has nothing to live upon but mouldy bread and dirty water ; yet nothing can exceed his cheerfulness and content — no murmurs — no discontent ; of mutton he has scarcely heard — of bacon he never dreams : — furfurous bread and the water of the pool constitute his food, establish his felicity, and excite his warmest gratitude. The squire or parson of the parish always happens to be walking by, and overhears him praying for the king and the members for the county, and for all in authority ; and it generally ends with their of- fering him a shilling, which this excellent man de- clares he does not want, and will not accept ! These are the pamphlets which Goodies and Noodles are dispersing with unwearied diligence. It would be a great blessing if some genius would arise who had a talent of writing for the poor. He would be of more value than many poets living upon the banks of lakes — or even (though we think highly of ourselves) of 114 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. greater value than many reviewing men living in the garrets of the north. The society offer some comments upon the prison bill now pending, and which, unfortunately* for the cause of prison improvement, has been so long pending in the legislature. In the copy of this bill, as it stands at present, nothing is said of the limitation of num- bers in any particular class. We have seen forty felons of one class in one yard before trial. If this is to continue, all prison improvement is a mere mock- ery. Separate sleeping cells should be enacted posi- tively, and not in words, which leave this improve- ment optional. If any visiting justice dissents from the majority,! it should be lawful for him to give in a separate report upon the state of the prison and pris- oners to the judge or the quarter sessions. All such reports of any visiting magistrate or magistrates, not exceeding a certain length, should be published in the county papers. The chairman's report to the secreta- ry of state should be published in the same manner. — The great panacea is publicity; it is this which se- cures compliance with wise and just laws, more than all the penalties they contain for their own preserva- tion. We object to the reading and writing clause. A poor man, who is lucky enough to have his son com- mitted for a felony, educates him, under such a sys- tem, for nothing ; while the virtuous simpleton on the other side of the Avail is paying by the quarter for these attainments. He sees clergymen and ladies busy with the larcenous pupil 5 while the poor lad, who re- spects the eighth commandment, is consigned, in some dark alley, to the frowns and blows of a ragged peda- gogue. It would be the safest way, where a prisoner is kept upon bread and water alone, to enact that the allowance of bread should not be less than a pound and a half for men, and a pound for women and boys. We strongly recommend, as mentioned in a previous num- ber, that four sorts of diet should be enacted for every prison : 1st, Bread and water ; 2d, Better prison diet ; 3d, Best prison diet ; 4th, Free diet — the second and third to be defined by the visiting magistrates. All sentences of imprisonment should state to which of these diets the prisoner is to be confined ; and all de- viation from it on the part of the prison officers should be punished with very severe penalties. The regula- tion of prison diet in a prison is a point of the very highest importance ; and to ask of visiting magistrates that they should doom to bread and water a prisoner, whom the law has left at liberty to purchase whatever he has the money to procure, is a degree of severity which it is hardly fair to expect from country gentle- men, and, if expected, those expectations will not be fulfilled. The whole system of diet, one of the main- springs of all prison discipline, will get out of order, if its arrangement is left to the interference of magis- trates, and not to the sentence of the judge. Free diet and bread diet need no interpretation ; and the jailer will take care to furnish the judge with the definitions of better prison diet and best prison diet. A knowl- edge of the diet prescribed in a jail is absolutely ne- cessary for the justice of the case. Diet differs so much in different prisons, that six weeks in one prison is as severe a punishment as three months in another. If any country gentleman, engaged in legislation for prisons, is inclined to undervalue the importance of these regulations, let him appeal to his own experi- ence, and remember, in the vacuity of the country, — how often he thinks of his dinner, and of what there will be for dinner ; and how much his amenity and courtesy for the evening depend upon the successful execution of this meal. But there is nobody so glut- tonous and sensual as a thief; and he will feel much more bitterly, fetters on his mouth than his heels. It sometimes happens that a gentleman is sentenced to imprisonment, for manslaughter in a duel, or for a * The county of York, with a prison under presentment, has been waiting nearly three years for this bill, in order to pro- ceed upon the improvement of their county jail. t It would be an entertaining change in human affairs to de- termine every thing by minorities. They are almost always m the right. libel. Are visiting justices to doom such a prisoner to bread and water, or are they to make an invidious distinction between him and the other prisoners ? The diet should be ordered by the judge, or it never will be well ordered — or ordered at all. The most extraordinary clause in the bill is the fol- lowing : — 'And be it further enacted, that in case any criminal prison- er shall be guilty of any repeated offence against the rules of the prison, or shall be guilty of any greater offence which the jailer or keeper is not by this act empowered to punish, the said jailer or keeper shall report the same to the visiting justice, or one of them, for the time being; aud such justices, or one of them, shall have power to inquire upon oath, and de- termine concealing any such offence so reported to him or them, and shall order the offender to be punished, either by moderate whipping, repeated whippings, or by close confine- ment, for any term not exceeding .' — Act, p. 21. Upon this clause, any one justice may order repeated whippings for any offence greater than that which the jailer may punish. Our respect for the committee will only allow us to say, that we hope this clause will be reconsidered. We beg leave to add, that there should be a return to the principal secretary of state of re- commitments as well as commitments. It is no mean pleasure to see this attention to jail discipline travelling from England to the detestable and despotic governments of the continent, — to see the health and life of captives admitted to be of any im- portance, — to perceive that human creatures in dun- geons are of more consequence than rats and black beetles. All this is new — is some little gained upon tyranny ; and for it we are indebted to the labours of the Prison Society. Still the state of prisons, on ma- ny parts of the continent, is shocking beyond all description. It is a most inconceivable piece of cruelty and ab- surdity in the English law, that the prisoners coun- sel, when he is tried for any capital felony, is not al- lowed to speak for him ; and this we hope the new prison bill will correct. Nothing can be more ridicu- lous in point of reasoning, or more atrociously cruel and unjust in point of fact. Any number of counsel may be employed to take away the poor man's life. — They are at full liberty to talk as long as they like ; — but not a syllable is to be uttered in his defence — not a sentence to show why the prisoner is not to be hung. This practice is so utterly ridiculous to any body but lawyers (to whom nothing that is customary is ridic- ulous), that men not versant with courts of justice will not believe it. It is, indeed, so utterly inconsis- tent with the common cant of the humanity of the English law, that it is often considered to be the mis- take of the narrator, rather than the imperfection of the system. We must take this opportunity, there- fore, of making a few observations on this very strange and anomalous practice. The common argument used in its defence is that the judge is counsel for the prisoner. But the defen- ders in this piece of cruel and barbarous nonsense must first make their election, whether they consider the prisoner to be, by this arrangement, in a better, a worse, or an equally good situation as if his counsel were allowed to plead for him. If he is in a worse situation, why is he so pleased? Why is a man, in a solemn issue of life and death, deprived of any fair advantage which any suitor in any court of justice possesses ? This is a plea of guilty to the charge we make against the practice ; and its advocates, by such concession, are put out of court. But, if it is an ad- vantage, or no disadvantage, whence comes it that the choice of this advantage, in the greatest of all hu- man concerns, is not left to the party, or to his friends ? If the question concerns a footpath — or a fat ox — every man may tell his own story, or employ a barris- ter to tell it for him. The law leaves the litigant to decide on the method most conducive to his own in- terest. But, when the question is whether he is to live or die, it is at once decided for him that his coun- sel are to be dumb ! And yet, so ignorant are men of their own interests, that there is not a single man tried who would not think it a great privilege if PRISONS 116 counsel were allowed to speak in his favour, and who would not be supremely happy to lay aside the fancied advantage of their silence. And this is true not merely of ignorant men ; but there is not an Old Bailey barrister who would not rather employ another Old Bailey barrister to speak for him, than enjoy the advantage (as the phrase is) of having the judge for his counsel. But in what sense, after all, is the judge counsel for the prisoner? He states, in his summing up, facts as they have been delivered in evidence ; and he tells the jury upon what points they are to de- cide : he mentions what facts are in favour of the prisoner, and what bear against him ; and he leaves the decision to the jury. Does he do more than this in favour of the prisoner ? Does he misstate ? Does he mislead? Does he bring forward arguments on one side of the question, and omit equally important arguments on the other ? If so, he is indeed counsel for the prisoner ; but then who is judge ? Who takes care of the interests of the public ? But the truth is, he does no such thing ; he does merely what we have stated him to do ; and would he do less, could he do less, if the prisoner's counsel spoke for him? If an argument was just, or an inference legitimate, he would not omit the one, or refute the other, because they had been put or drawn in the speech of the pri- soner's counsel. He would be no more prejudiced against the defendant in a criminal than in a civil 6uit. He would select from the speeches of both counsel all that could be fairly urgeu. for or against the defendant, and he would reply to their fallacious reasonings. The pure administration of justice re- quires of him, in either case, the san\e conduct. Whether the whole bar speak for the prisoner, or whether he was left to defend himself, what can the judge do, or what ought he to do, but to state to the jury the facts as they are given in evidence, and the impression these facts have made upon his own mind ? In the mean time, while the prisoner's counsel have been compelled to be silent, the accuser's, the oppo- sit3 party, have enjoyed an immense advantage. In considering what bears against the prisoner, the judge has heard, not only the suggestions of his own understanding, but he has been exposed to the able and artful reasoning of a practised advocate, who has been previously instructed in the case of which the judge never heard a syllable before he came into court. Suppose it to be a case depending upon cir- cumstantial evidence ; in how many new points of view may a man of genius have placed those circum- stances, which would not have occurred to the judge himself ! How many inferences may he have drawn, which would have been unnoticed, but. for the efforts of a man whose bread and fame depend upon his exer- tions, and who has purposely, and on contract, flung the whole force of his understanding into one scale ! — In the mean time, the prisoner can say nothing, for he has not the gift of learned speech ; his counsel can say nothing, though he has communicated with the prisoner, and could place the whole circumstances, — perhaps, in the fairest and clearest point of view for the accused party. By the courtesy of England this is called justice — we in the north cannot admit of the correctness of the appellation. It seems utterly to be forgotten, in estimating this practice, that two understandings are better than one. The judge must inevitably receive many new views against the prisoner by the speech of one counsel, and lose many views in favour of the prisoner by the si- lence of the other. We are not to suppose (like ladies going into court in an assize town) that the judge would have thought of every thing which the counsel against the prisoner has said, and which the counsel for the prisoner would have said. The judge, wigged and robed as he is, is often very inferior in acuteness to either of the persons who are pleading under him — a cold, slow, parchment and precedent man, without passions or praecordia, — perhaps a sturdy brawler for church and king, — or a quiet man of ordinary abilities, steadily, though perhaps conscientiously, following those in power through thick and thin — through right and wrong. Whence comes it that the method of get- ting at truth, which is so excellent on all common oc- casions, should be considered as so improper on the greatest of all occasions, where th« life of a man is concerned? If an acre of land is to be lost or won, one man says all that can be said on one side of the question — another on the other ; and the jury, aided by the impartiality of the judge, decide. The wit of man can devise no better method of disentangling dif- ficulty, exposing falsehood, and detecting truth. < 7 ell ■me why I am hurried away to a premature death, and no man suffered to speak in my defence, when at this very moment, and in my hearing, all the eloquence of the bar, on the other side of your justice hall, is employed in de- fending a path or a hedge ? Is a foot of land dearer to any man than my life is to me ? The civil plaintiff has not trusted the smallest part of his fate or fortune to his own efforts ; and will you grant me no assistance of su- perior wisdom, who have suffered a long famine to pur- chase it — who am broken by prison — broken by chains — and so shamed by this dress of guilt, and abashed by the presence of my superiors, that I have no words which you could hear without derision — that I could not give way for a moment to the fulness and agitation of my rude heart without moving your contempt V So spoke a wretched creature to a judge in our hearing ! and what answer could be given, but i Jailer, take him away ? ' We are well aware that a great decency of language is observed by the counsel employed against the pri- soner, in consequence of the silence imposed upon the opposite counsel ; but then, though there is a decency, as far as concerns impassioned declamation, yet there is no restraint, and there can be no restraint, upon the reasoning poAvers of a counsellor. He may put toge- ther the circumstances of an imputed crime in the most able, artful, and ingenious manner, without the slightest vehemence or passion. We have no objec tion to this, if any counter statement were permitted. We want only fair play. Speech for both sides, or speech for none. The first would be the wiser sys- tem ; but the second would be clear from the intolera- ble cruelty of the present. We see no harm that would ensue if both advocates were to follow their own plan without restraint. But, if the feelings are to be excluded in all cases of this nature (which seems very absurd), then let the same restraint be exacted from both sides. It might very soon be established, as the etiquette of the bar, that the pleadings on both sides were expected to be calm, and to consist of reasoning upon the facts. In high treason, where the partiality of the judge and power of the court are suspected, this absurd incapacity of being heard by counsel is remo- ved. Nobody pretends to say, in such cases, that the judge would be counsel for the prisoner ; and yet, how many thousand cases are there in a free country which have nothing to do with high treason, and where the spirit of party, unknown to himself, may get possession of a judge ? Suppose any trial for murder to have taken place in the Manchester riots, — will any man say that the conduct of many judges on such a question ought not to have been watched with the most jealous circumspection? Would any prisoner — would any fair mediator between the prisoner and the public — be satisfied at such a period with the axiom that the judge is counsel for the prisoner ? We are not saying that there is no judge who might not be so trusted, but that all judges are not, at all times, to be so intrusted. We are not saying that any judge would wilfully do wrong ; but that many might be led to do wrong by passions and prejudices of which they were unconscious ; and that the rea] safeguard to the prisoner, the best, the only safeguard, is full liberty of speech for the counsel he has employed. What would be the discipline of that hospital where medical assistance was allowed in all trifling com- plaints, and withheld in every case of real danger? — where Bailey and Halford were lavished upon stomach- aches and refused in typhus fever ? where the dying patient beheld the greatest skill employed upon tri- fling evils of others, and was told, because his was a case of life and death, that the cook or the nurse was to be his physician ? Suppose so intolerable an abuse (as the Attorney and Solicitor General would term it) had been esta- blished, and that a law for its correction was now first 116 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. proposed, entitled an Act to prevent the Counsel for Prisoners from being heard in their Defence ! ! ! What evil would result from allowing counsel to be in defence of prisoners ? Would too many people be hung from losing that valuable counsellor, the judge ? or would too few people be hung ? or would things re- main much as they are at present ? We never could get the admirers of this practice to inform us what the results would be of deviating from it ; and we are the more particularly curious upon this point, because our practice is decidedly the reverse, and we find no other results from it than a fair administration of cri- minal justice. In all criminal cases that require the intervention of a jury in Scotland, a prisoner must have, 1st, a copy of the indictment, which must con- tain a minute specification of the offence charged ; 2dly, a list of witnesses ; 3dly, a list of the assize ; and 4thly, in every question that occurs, and in all addresses to the jur}', the prisoner's counsel has the last word. Where is the boasted mercy of the English law after this ( The truth is, it proceeds from the error which, in all dark ages, pervades all codes of laws, of confound- ing the accused with the guilty. In the early part of our state trials, the prisoners were not allowed to briog evidence against the witnesses of the crown. For a long period after this, the witnesses of the priso- ners were not suffered to be examined upon oath. One piece of cruelty and folly has given way after another. Each has been defended by the Attorney and Solicitor General for the time, as absolutely necessary to the existence of the state, and the most perfect perform- ance of our illustrious ancestors. The last grand hope of every foolish person, is the silence of the prisoner's counsel. In the defence of this it will be seen what stupidity driven to despair can achieve. We beg par- don for this digression ; but flesh and blood cannot en- dure the nonsense of lawyers upon this subject. The Society have some very proper remarks upon the religious instructions of the chaplain — an appoint- ment of vast importance and utility; unfortunately very ill paid, and devolving entirely upon the lower clergy. It is said that the present Bishop of Glouces- ter, Dr. Ryder, goes into jails, and busies himself with the temporal wretchedness and the eternal welfare of the prisoners. If this is so, it does him great honour, and is a noble example to all ranks of clergy who are subject to him. Above all, do not let us omit the fol- lowing beautiful anecdote, while we are talking of good and pious men. ' The Committee cannot refrain from extracting from the Report of the Paris Society, the interesting anecdote of the excellent Pere Joussony, who being sent, by the Consul at Algiers, to minister to the slaves, fixed his residence in their prison; and, during a period of thirty years, never quitted his post. Being compelled to repair to France, for a short period, he returned again to the prison, and at length re- signed his breath in the midst of those for whose interests he had laboured, and who were dearer to him than life.' — Re- port, p. 30. It seems to be a very necessary part of the prison system, that any poor person, when acquitted, should be passed to his parish ; and that all who are acquit- ted, should be immediately liberated. At present, a prisoner, after acquittal, is not liberated till the grand jury are dismissed,* in case (as it is said) any more bills should be preferred against him. This is really a considerable hardship ; and we do not see, upon the same principle, why the prisoner may not be detained for another assize. To justify such a practice, notice should, at all events, be given to the jailer of inten- tion to prefer other charges against him. To detain a man, who is acquitted of all of which he has been accused, and who is accused of nothing more, merely because he may be accused of something more, seems to be a great perversion of justice. The greatest of all prison improvements, however, would be, the delivery of jails four times in the year. It would save expen- ses ; render justice more terrible, by rendering it more Erompt ; facilitate classification, by lessening num- ers ; keep constantly alive, in the minds of wicked * This has since been done away with. men, the dread of the law ; and diminish the unjust sufferings of those who, after long imprisonment, are found innocent. < From documents,' says Mr. Western, < upon the table of the House of Commons in 1819, I drew out an account, which I have already adverted to in part, but which I shall restate here, as it places, in a strong point of view, the ex- tent of injustice, and inconsistency too, arising out of the present system. It appeared, that at the Maidstone Lent Assizes of that year there were one hundred and seventy- seven prisoners for trial ; of these, seventeen were in pris- on before the 1st of October, eighty-three before the 1st oi January, the shortest period of confinement before trial be- ing six months of the former, three months of the latter. Nothing can show us more plainly the injustice of such con- finement, than the known fact of six months' imprisonment being considered a sufficient punishment for half the felon- ies that are committed ; but the case is stronger, when we consider the number acquitted ; seventeen of the twenty- seven first mentioned were acquitted, nine of the seven- teen were discharged; not being prosecuted, or having no bill found against them. On the other side it appeared, that twenty-five convicted felons were sentenced to six months' imprisonment, or under, the longest period of whose con finement did not, therefore, exceed the shortest of the sev enteen acquitted, or that of the nine, against whom no charge was adduced ; there were three, who, after being about seven months in prison, were discharged, whilst va- rious convicted felons suffered six-sevenths only of the punishment, including the time before trial as well as after condemnation. By the returns from the Lent Assizes at Chelmsford, the same year, the cases were not less striking than those of Maidstone : the total number was one hun- dred and sixty-six ; of these, twenty-five were in prison be- fore the 1st of October, of whom eleven were acquitted, and of these eleven, six were discharged without any in- dictment preferred ; two were in prison eight months ; three, seven months and fifteen days ; three, six months and fif- teen days. On the other hand, sixteen convicted of felony were considered to be sufficiently punished by imprison- ment under six months. Upon the whole, it appeared that four hundred and five persons had been in the gaol before the 1st of < >ctober, whilst eight hundred convicted felons were sentenced to a lighter punishment, to a shorter dura- tion of imprisonment, than these four hundred and five had actually undergone. ' It is a curious fact, that, upon an average, more than one-third of the total number committed for trial are ac- quitted. In the seven years ending 1819, seventy-two thou- sand two hundred and sixteen persons were committed ; of these, fourteen thousand two hundred and ninety-one were acquitted on trial, eleven thousand two hundred and nine- ty-four were discharged, there being no prosecutions, or no bills found against them. This large proportion of acquit- tals aggravates the evil and injustice of long confinement before trial ; but were it otherwise, what possible right can we have to detain a man in custody six months, upon any charge exhibited against him, before he is brought to trial : What excuse or palliation can be found for so barbarous a violation of all the principles of justice and humanity ? How contemptible it is, by way of defence, to talk of the in- expediency of increasing the number of Judges, the expense, inconvenience, trouble,&c. ! It is wrong to contend with such arguments against the unanswerable claims of justice, as it is only to admit they are entitled to weight. The fact is, we are so completely under the influence of habitual re- spect for established practice, that we do not stop to ques- tion the possibility of the existence of any serious defects in the administration of the law that can be capable of reme- dy. The public attention has never been earnestly and steadily fixed and devoted to the attainment of a better sys- tem.'— Western, pp. 80—83. The public cannot be too grateful to Mr. Western for his labours on this subject. We strongly recom- mend his Tract for general circulation. It is full of stout good sense, without one particle of nonsense or fanaticism ; — good English stuff, of the most improved and best sort. Lord Londonderry has assented to the measure; and his assent does him and the govern- ment very great credit. It is a measure of first-rate importance. The multiplicity of imprisonments is tru- ly awful. Within the distance of ten miles round London, thirty-one fairs are annually held, which continue eighty days within the space of seven months. The effect of these fairs, in filling the prisons of the metro- polis, it is easy to imagine ; and the topic is very wisely and properly brought forward by the Society. Nothing can be so absurd as the reasoning used about flash houses. They are suffered to exist, it seems, because it is easy to the officers of justice to PERSECUTING BISHOPS in find, in such places, the prisoners of whom they are in search J But the very place where the thief is found is most probably the place which made him a thief. If it facilitates the search, it creates the neces- sity for searching, and multiplies guilt while it pro- motes detection. Wherever thieves are known to haunt, that place should be instantly purged of thieves. We have pushed this article to a length which will prevent us from dwelling upon that part of the plan of the Prison Society which embraces the reformation of juvenile delinquents, of whom it is calculated, there are not less than 8000 in London who gain their live- lihood by thieving. To this subject we^nay perhaps refer in some future number. We must content our- selves at present with a glimpse at the youthful cri- minals of the metropolis. 'Upon a late occasion (in company with Mr. Samuel Hoare, the chairman of the Society for the Reform of Juvenile Delin- quents), I visited, about midnight, many of those receptacles of thieves which abound in this metropolis. We selected the night of that day in which an execution had taken place ; and our object was to ascertain whether that terrible demonstra- tion of rigour could operate even a short suspension of iniqui- ty, and keep for a single night the votaries of crime from their accustomed orgies. In one room, I recollect, we found a large number of children, of both sexes, the oldest under eighteen years of age, and in the centre of these a man who had been described to me by the police as one of the largest sellers of forged bank-notes. At another part, we were shown a number of buildings, into which only children were allowed to enter, and in which, if you could obtain admission, which you cannot, you would see scenes of the most flagrant, the most public, and the most shocking debauchery. Have I not, then, a right to say, that you are growing crimes at a terrible rate, and produ- cing those miscreants who are to disturb the public peace, plunder *the public property, and to become the scourge and the disgrace of the country V — Buxton, pp. 66, 67. Houses dedicated to the debauchery of children, where it is impossible to enter ! ! ! Whence comes this impossibility ? To show that their labours are not needlessly conti- nued, the Society make the following statement of the present state of prisons : — ' But although these considerations are highly encouraging, there is yet much to accomplish in this work of national im- provement. So extensive are the defects of classification, that in thirty gaols, constructed for the confinement of 2985 per- sons, there were, at one time in the last year, no fewer than 5837 prisoners ; and the whole number imprisoned in those gaols during that period, amounted to 26,703. There are yet prisons where idleness and its attendant evils reign unre- strained — where the sexes are not separated — where all dis- tinctions of crime are confounded — where few can enter, if uncorrupted, without pollution ; and, if guilty, without incur- ring deeper stains of criminality. There are yet prisons which receive not the pious visits of a Christian minister — which the light of knowledge never enters — and where the truths and consolations of the Gospel are never heard. There are yet prisons where, for the security of the prisoners, measures are resorted to as revolting to British feeling as they arc repug- nant to the letter and spirit of English law.'— Report, pp. 63, 64. With this statement we take our leave of the sub- ject of prisons, thoroughly convinced that, since the days of their cleanliness and salubrity, they have been so managed as to become the great school for crimes and wretchedness ; and I hat the public, though begin- ning to awake, are not yet sufficiently alarmed at it. Mrs. Fry is an amiable excellent woman, and ten thousand times better than the infamous neglect that preceded her; but hers is not the method to stop crimes. In prisons which are really meant to keep tne multitude in order, and to be a terror to evil doers, there must be no sharing of profits— no visiting of friends — no education but religious education — no free- dom of diet— no weavers' looms or carpenters' bench- es. There must be a great deal of solitude ; coarse food; a dress of shame; hard, incessant, irksome, eternal labour ; a planned and regulated and unrelent- ing exclusion of happiness and comfort. PERSECUTING BISHOPS. (Edinburgh Review, 1822.) 1. An Appeal to the Legislature and Public ; or, the Legality of the Eighty-seven Questions proposed by Dr. Herbert Marsh, the Bishop of Peterborough, to Candidates for Holy Orders, and for'Licenses, within that Diocese, considered 2d Edition. London, Seely, 1821. 2. A Speech, delivered in the House of Lords, on Friday, June 7, 1822, by Herbert, Lord Bishop of Peterborough, on the Presentation of a Petition against his Examination Ques- tions ; with Explanatory Notes, a Supplement, and a Copy of the Questions. London, Rivington, 1822. 3. The Wrongs of the Clergy of the Diocese of Peterborough stated and illustrated. By the Rev. T. S. Grimshawe, M. A., Rector of Burton, Northamptonshire 5 and Vicar of Bidden- ham, Bedfordshire. London, Seely, 1822. 4. Episcopal Innovation : or, the Test of Modern Orthodoxy, in Eighty-seven Questions, imposed, as Articles of Faith, upon Candidates for Licenses and for Holy Orders, in the Diocese of Peterborough; with a distinct Answer to each Question, and General Reflections relative to their Illegal Structure and Pernicious Tendency. London, Seely, 1820. 5. Official Correspondence between the Right Reverend Her- bert, Lord Bishop of Peterbor ough, and the Rev. John Green, respecting his Nomination to the Curacy of Blatherwycke, in the Diocese of Peterborough, and County of Northamp- ton : Also, between His Grace Charles, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Rev. Henry William Nevile, M. A., Rector of Blatherwycke, and of Cottesmore in the County of Rutland. 1821. It is a great point in any question to clear away en- cumbrances, and to make a naked circle about the object in dispute, so that there may be a clear view of it on every side. In pursuance of this disencum- bering process, we shall first acquit the bishop of all wrong intentions. He has a very bad opinion of the practical effects of high Calvinistic doctrines upon the common people ; and he thinks it his duty to exclude those clergymen who profess them from his diocese. There is no moral wrong in this. He has accordingly devised no fewer than eighty-seven interrogatories, by which he thinks he can detect the smallest taint of Calvinism that may lurk in the creed of the candidate ; and in this also, whatever we may think of his reason- ing, we suppose his purpose to be blameless. He be- lieves, finally, that he has legally the power so to in- terrogate and' exclude ; and in this perhaps he is not mistaken. His intentions, then, are good, and his conduct, perhaps, not amenable to the law. All this we admit in his favour ; but against him we must maintain, that his conduct upon the points in dispute has been singularly injudicious, extremely harsh, and, in its effects (though not in its intentions), very op- pressive and vexatious to the clergy. We have no sort of intention to avail ourselves of an anonymous publication to say unkind, uncivil, or dis- respectful things to a man of rank, learning, and char- acter — we hope to be guilty of no such impropriety ; — but Ave cannot believe we are doing wrong in ranging ourselves on the weaker side, in the cause of propriety and justice. The mitre protects its wearer from in- dignity ; but it does not secure impunity. It is a strong presumption that a man is wrong, — when all his friends, whose habits naturally lead them to coincide with him, think him wrong. If a man were to indulge in taking medicine till the apothecary, the druggist, and the physician, all called upon him to abandon his philo-cathartic propensities — if he were to gratify his convivial habits till the landlord demur- red and the waiter shook his head — we should natu- rally imagine that advice so wholly disinterested was not given before it was wanted, and that it merited some little attention and respect. Now, though the Bench of Bishops certainly love power, and love the church, as well as the Bishop of Peterborough, yet not one defended him — not one rose to say, ' I have done, or I would do the same thing.' It was impossible to be present at the last debate on this question, without perceiving that his lordship stood alone — and this in a very gregarious profession, that habitually combines and butts against an opponent with a very extended front. If a lawyer is wounded, the rest of the pro- fession pursue him, and put him to death. If a church- man is hurt, the others gather round for his protection 118 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. stamp with their feet, push with their horns, and de- molish the dissenter who did the mischief. The bishop has at least done a very unusual thing in his Eighty-seven Questions. The two archbishops, and we believe every other bishop, and all the Irish hierarchy, admit curates into their dioceses without any such precautions. The necessity of such severe and scrupulous inquisition, in short, has been apparent to nobody but the Bishop of Peterborough ; and the authorities by which he seeks to justify it are any thing but satisfactory. His lordship states, that forty years ago, he was himself examined by written inter- rogatories, and that he is not the only bishop who has done it ; but he mentions no names ; and it was hardly worth while to state such extremely slight precedents for so strong a deviation from the common practice of the church. The bishop who rejects a curate upon the Eighty- seven Questions is necessarily and inevitably opposed to the bishop who ordained him. The Bishop of Gloucester ordains a young man of twenty-three years oi' age, not thinking it necessary to put to him these interrogatories, or putting them perhaps, and approv- ing of answers diametrically opposite to those that are required by the Bishop of Peterborough. _ The young clergyman then comes to the last-mentioned bishop, and the bishop, after putting him to the ques- tion, says, " You are unfit for a clergyman,"— though, ten days before, the Bishop of Gloucester has made him one ! It is bad enough for ladies to pull caps, but still worse for bishops to pull mitres. Nothing can be more mischievous or indecent than such scenes ; and no man of common prudence, or knowledge of the world, but must see that they ought immediately to be put a stop to. If a man is a captain in the army in one part of England, he is a captain in all. The gen- eral who commands north of the Tweed does not say, You shall never appear in my district, or exercise the functions of an officer, if you do not answer eighty- seven questions on the art of war, according to my no- tions. The same officer who commands a ship of the line in the Mediterranean, is considered as equal to the same office in the North Seas. The sixth com- mandment is suspended, by one medical diploma,—' from the north of England to the south. But, by this new system of interrogation, a man may be admitted into orders at Bamet, rejected at Stevenage, re-admit- ted at Brogdcn, kicked out as a Calvinist at Witham Common, and hailed as an ardent Arminian on his ar- rival at York. It matters nothing to say that sacred things must not be compared with profane. In their importance, we allow, they cannot ; but in their order and discipline they may be so far compared as to say, that the dis- crepancy and contention which would be disgraceful and pernicious in worldly affairs, should, in common prudence, be avoided in the affairs of religion. Mr. Greenough has made a map of England, according to its geological varieties ;— blue for the chalk, green for the clay, red for the sand, and so forth. Under this system of Bishop Marsh, we must petition for the as- sistance of the geologist in the fabrication of an eccle- siastical map. All the Arminian districts must be purple. Green for one theological extremity— sky- blue for another — as many colours as there are bishops — as many shades of these colours as there are arch- deacons—a tailor's pattern card— the picture of va- nity, fashion, and caprice ! The bishop seems surprised at the resistance he meets with ; and yet, to what purpose has he read ec- clesiastical history, if he expects to meet with any thing but the most determined opposition ? Does he think that every sturdy supralapsarian bullock whom he tries to sacrifice to the genius of orthodoxy, will not kick, and push, and toss ; that he will not, if he can, shake the axe from his neck, and hurl his mitred butcher into the air ? His lordship has undertaken a task of which he little knows the labour or the end. We know these men fully as well as the bishop ; he has not a chance of success against them. If one mo- tion in Parliament will not do, they will have twenty. They will ravage, roar, and rush, till the very chap- lains, and the Masters and Misses Peterborough re- quest his lordship to desist. He is raising up a storm in the English church, of which he has not the slight- est conception ; and which will end, as it ought fo end in his lordship's disgrace and defeat. The longer we live, the more we are convinced of the justice of the old saying, that an ounce of mother wit is worth a pound of clergy • that discretion, gentle manners, common sense, and goodnature, are, in men of high ecclesiastical station, of far greater import- ance than the greatest skill in discriminating between sublapsarian and supralapsarian doctrines. Bishop Marsh should remember, that all men wearing the mitre work by character, as well as doctrine ; that a tender regard to men's rights and feelings, a desire to avoid sacred squabbles, a fondness for quiet, and an ardent wish to make every body happy, would be of far more value to the Church of England than all his learning and vigilance of inquisition. The Irish tithes will probably fall next session of Parliament ; the common people are regularly receding from the Church of England — baptizing, burying, and confirming for themselves. Under such circumstances, what would the worst enemy of the English church require ? — a bitter, bustling, theological bishop, accused by his clergy of tyranny and oppression — the cause of daily petitions and daily debates in the House of Commons — the idoneous vehicle of abuse against the Establish- ment — a stalking horse to bad men for the introduction of revolutionary opinions, mischievous ridicule, and irreligious feelings. Such will be the advantages which Bishop Marsh will secure for the English Establish- ment in the ensuing session. It is inconceivable how such a prelate shakes all the upper works of the church, and ripens it for dissolution and decay. Six such bishops, multiplied by eighty-seven, and # working with five hundred and twenty-two questions, would fetch every thing to the ground in less than six months. But what if it pleased Divine Providence to afflict every prelate with the spirit of putting eighty-seven queries, and the two archbishops with the spirit of put- ting twice as many, and the Bishop of Sodor and Man with the spirit of putting only forty-three queries ( — there would then be a grand total of two thousand three hundred and thirty-five interrogations flying about the English church ; and sorely vexed would the land be with Question and Answer. We will suppose this learned prelate, without mean- ness or undue regard to his worldly interests, to feel that fair desire of rising in his profession, which any man, in any profession, may feel without disgrace. Does he forget that his character in the ministerial circles will soon become that of a violent impractica- ble man — whom it is impossible to place in the high- est situations — who has been intrusted with too much already, and must be trusted with no more ? Minis- ters have something else to do Avith their time, and with the time of Parliament, than to waste them in debating squabbles between bishops and their clergy. They naturally wish, and, on the whole, reasonably expect, that every thing should go on silently and quietly in the church. They have no objection to a learned bishop ; but they deprecate one atom more of learning than is compatible with moderation, good sense, and the soundest discretion. It must be the grossest ignorance of the world to suppose, that the cabinet has any pleasure in watching Calvinists. The bishop not only puts the questions, but he actu- ally assigns the limits within which they are to be answered. Spaces are left in the paper of interroga- tions, to which limits the answer is to be confined ; — two inches to original sin ; an inch and a half to justi- fication ; three quarters to predestination ; and to free will only a quarter of an inch. But if his lordship gives them an inch thej r will take an ell. His lord- ship is himself a theological writer, and by no means remarkable for his conciseness. To deny space to his brother theologians, who are writing on the most diffi- cult subjects, not from choice, but necessity; not for fame, but for bread; and to award rejection as the penalty of prolixity, does appear to us no slight devi- ation from Christian gentleness. The tyranny of call- ing for such short answers is very strikingly pointed out in a letter from Mr. Thurtell to the Bishop of Pe- PERSECUTING BISHOPS. 119 terborough ; the style of which pleads, we think, very powerfully in favour of the writer. ' Beccles, Suffolk, August 28tA, 1821. ' My Lord, 4 1 ought, in the first place, to apologize for delaying so long to answer your lordship's letter : but the difficulty in which I was involved, by receiving another copy of your lordship's Questions, with positive directions to give short answers, may be sufficient to account for that delay. • It is my sincere desire to meet your lordship's wishes, and to obey your lordship's directions in every particular; and 1 would therefore immediately have returned answers, without any " restrictions or modifications," to the Questions which your lordship has thought fit to send me, if, in so doing, I could have discharged the obligations of my conscience, by showing what my opinions really are. But it appears to me, that the Questions proposed to me by your lordship are so constructed as to elicit only two sets of opinions ; and that by answering them in so concise a manner, I should be representing myself to your lordship as one who believes in either of two particu- lar creeds, to neither of which I do really subscribe. For in- stance, to answer Question I. chap. ii. in the manner your lordship desires, I am reduced to the alternative of declaring, either that "mankind are a mass of mere corruption," which expresses more than I intend, or of leaving room for the infer- ence, that they are only partially corrupt, which is opposed to the plainest declarations of the Homilies ; such as these, " Man is altogether spotted and defiled" (Horn, on Nat.), " without a spark of goodness in him" (Serm. on Mis. of Man, &c.) .' Again, by answering the Questions comprised in the chap- iter on " Free Will," according to your lordship's directions, I am compelled to acknowledge either that man has such a share in the work of his own salvation as to exclude the sole agency of God, or that he has no share whatsoever ; when the Homilies for Rogation Week and Whit-sunday positively de- clare, that God is the "only Worker," or, in other words, sole Agent ; and at the same time assign to man a certain share in the work of his own salvation. In short, I could, with your lordship's permission, point out twenty Questions, in- volving doctrines of the utmost importance, which I am una- ble to answer, so as to convey my real sentiments, without more room for explanation than the printed sheet affords. ' In this view of the subject, therefore, and in the most delib- erate exercise of my judgment, I deem it indispensable to my acting with that candour and truth with which it is my wish and duty to act, and with which I cannot but believe your .ordship desires I should act, to state my opinions in that lan- guage which expresses them most fully, plainly and unreserv- edly. This I have endeavoured to do in the answers now in the possession of your lordship. If any further explanation be required, I am most willing to give it, even to a minuteness of opinion beyond what the Articles require. At the same time, I would humbly and respectfully appeal to your lordship's candour, whether it is not hard to demand my decided opinion upon points which have been the themes of volumes ; upon which the most pious and learned men of the church have con- scientiously differed; and upon which the Articles in the judg- ment of Bishop Burnet, have pronounced no definite sentence. To those Articles, my lord, I have already subscribed; and I am willing again to subscribe to every one of them, " in its literal and grammatical sense," according to his majesty's de- claration prefixed to them. ' I hope, therefore, in consideration of the above statement, that your lordship will not compel me, by the conciseness of my answers, to assent to the doctrines which I do not believe, or to expose myself to inferences which do not fairly and legitimately follow from my opinions. ' I am, my Lord, &c. &c' We are not much acquainted with the practices of courts of justice ; but, if we remember right, when a man is going to be hanged, the judge lets him make his defence in his own way, without complaining of its length. We should think a Christian bishop might be equally indulgent to a man who is going to be ruin- ed. "The answers are required to be clear, concise, and correct — short, plain, and positive. In other words, a poor curate, extremely agitated at the idea of losing his livelihood, is required to write with brev- ity and perspicuity on the following subjects : — Re- demption by Jesus Christ — Original Sin — Free Will — Justihcation — Justification in reference to its causes — Justification in reference to the time when it takes place — Everlasting salvation — Predestination — Regen- eration on the New Birth — Renovation, and the Holy Trinity. As a specimen of these questions, the an- swer to which is required to be so brief and clear, we shall insert the following quotation : — ' Section II.— Of Justification, in reference to its cause. «1. Does not the eleventh Article declare, that we are "justi- fied by Faith only ?" < 2. Does not the expression " Faith only" derive additional strength from the negative expression in the same Arti- cle " and not for our own works?" ' 3. Does not therefore the eleventh Article exclude good works from all share in the office of Justifying 1 Or can we so construe the term " Faith" in that Article, as to make it include good works ? * 4. Do not the twelfth and thirteenth Articles further exclude them, the one by asserting that good works follow after Justification, the other by maintaining that they cannot precede it ? '5. Can that, which never precedes an effect, be reckoned among the causes of that effect ? '■ 6. Can we then, consistently with our Articles, reckon the performance of good works among the causes of Justifi- cation, whatever qualifying epithet be used with the term cause ?' We entirely deny that the Calvinistical clergy are bad members of their profession. We maintain that as many instances of good, serious, and pious men — of persons zealously interesting themselves in the temporal and spiritual welfare of their parishioners are to be found among them, as among the clergy who put an opposite interpretation on the Articles. The Articles of Religion are older than Arminianism, eo nomine. The early reformers leant to Calvinism ; and would, to a man, have answered the bishop's questions in a way which would have induced him to refuse them ordination and curacies ; and those who drew up the Thirty-nine Articles, if they had not pru- dently avoided all precise interpretation of their creed on free-will, necessity, absolute decrees, original sin, reprobation and election, would have, in all proba- bility, given an interpretation of them like that which the bishop considers as a disqualification for holy orders. Laud's Lambeth Articles were illegal, mis- chievous, and are generally condemned. The Irish clergy, in 1641, drew up one hundred and four articles as the creed of their church ; and these are Calvinis- tic, and not Arminian. They were approved and signed by Usher, and never abjured by him ; though dropt as a test or qualification. Usher was promoted (even in the days of Arminianism) to bishoprics and archbishoprics — so little did a Calvinistic interpreta- tion of the Articles in a man's breast, or even an avowal of Calvinism, beyond what was required by the Articles, operate even then as a disqualification for the cure of souls, or of any other office in the church. Throughout Charles II. and William III.'s time, the best men and greatest names of the church not only allowed latitude in interpreting the Articles, but thought it would be wise to diminish their num- ber, and render them more lax than they are ; and be it observed, that these latitudinarians leant to Armi- nianism rather than to high Calvinism ; and thought, consequently, that the Articles, if objectionable at all, were exposed to the censure of being i too Calvin- istic,' rather than too Arminian. How preposterous, therefore, to twist them, and the subscription to them required by law, by the machinery of a long string of explanatory questions, into a barrier against Calvinists, and to give the Arminians a monopoly in the church ! Archbishop Wake, in 1716, after consulting all the bishops then attending Parliament, thought it incum- bent on him ' to employ the authority which the ecclesi- astical laws then in force, and the custom and laws of the realm vested in him,'' and taking care that < no un- worthy person might hereafter be admitted into the sacred ministry of the church ;' and he drew up twelve recommendations to the bishops of England, m which he earnestly exhorts them not to ordain persons of bad conduct or character, or incompetent learning ; but he does not require from the candidates for holy orders or preferment, any explanation whatever of the Articles which they had signed. The correspondence of the same eminent prelate with Professor Turretin, in 1718, and with Mr. Le Clerc and the pastors and piofessors of Geneva in 1719, printed in London. 1782, recommends union among Protestants, and the omission of controverted ISO WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. points in confessions of faith, as a means of obtaining that union ; and a constant reference to the practice of the Church of England is made in elucidation of the charity and wisdom of such policy. Speaking of men who act upon a contrary principle, he says, O quan- tum potuit insana (piXavTia ! These passages, we think, are conclusive evidence of the practice of the church till 1719. For Wake was not only at the time Archbishop of Canterbury, but both in his circular recommendations to the bishops of England, and in his correspondence with foreign churches, was acting in the capacity of metro- politan of the Anglican church. He, a man of pru- dence and learning, probably boasts to Protestant Europe, that his church does not exact, and that he de facto has never avowed, and never will, his opi- nions on those very points upon which Bishop Marsh obliges every poor curate to be explicit, upon pain of expulsion from the church. It is clear, then, the practice was, to extract sub- scription and nothing else, as the test of orthodoxy — to that Wake is an evidence. As far as he is autho- rity on a point of opinion, it is his conviction that his practice was wholesome, wise, and intended to pre- serve peace in the church ; that it would be wrong at least, if not illegal, to do otherwise ; and that the ob- servance of this forbearance is the only method of preventing schism. The Bishop of Peterborough, however, is of a different opinion ; he is so thoroughly convinced of the pernicious effects of Calvinistic doc- trines, that he does what no other bishop does, or ever did do, for their exclusion. This may be either wise or injudicious, but it is at least zealous and bold ; it is to encounter rebuke, and opposition, from a sense of duty. It is impossible to deny this merit to his lordship. And we have no doubt, that, in pursuance of the same theological gallantry, he is preparing a set of interrogatories for those clergymen who are presented to benefices in his diocese. The patron will have his action of Quare impedit, it is true ; and the judge and jury will decide whether the bishop has the right of interrogation at all; and whether Calvin- istical answers to his interrogatories disqualify any man from holding preferment in the Church of Eng- land. If either of these points are given against the Bishop of Peterborough, he is in honour and con- science bound to give up his examination of curates. If Calvinistic ministers are, in the estimation of the bishops, so dangerous as curates, they are of course much more dangerous as rectors and vicars. He has as much right to examine one as the other. Why then does he pass over the greater danger, and guard against the less? Why does he not show his zeal when he would run some risk, and where the excluded person (if excluded unjustly) could appeal to the laws of his country? If his conduct is just and right, has he any thing to fear from that appeal ? What should we say of a police officer who acted in ail cases of petty larceny, where no opposition was made, and let off all persons guilty of felony who threatened to knock him down ? If the bishop values his own cha- racter, he is bound to do less — or to do more. God send his choice may be right ! The law, as it stands at present, certainly affords very unequal protection to rector and curate ; but if the bishop will not act so as to improve the law, the law must be so changed as to improve the bishop ; an action of Quai-e imjyedit must be given to the curate also — and then the fury of interrogation will be calmed. We are aware that the Bishop of Peterborough, in his speech, disclaims the object of excluding the Calvi- nists by this system of interrogation. We shall take no other notice of his disavowal, than expressing our sincere regret that he ever made it ; but the question is not at all altered by the intention of the interrogator. Whether he aims at the Calvinists only, or includes them with other heterodox respondents — the fact is, they are included in the proscription, and excluded from the church. The practical effect of the practice being, that men are driven out of the church who have as much right to exercise the duties of clergymen as the bishop himself. If heterodox opinions are the great objects of the bishop's apprehensions, he has his ecclesiastical courts, where regular process may bring the offender to punishment, and from whence there is an appeal to higher courts. This would be the fair thing to do. The curate and the bishep would be brought into the light of day, and subjected to the wholesome restraint of public opinion. His lordship boasts that he has excluded only two curates. So the Emperor of Hayti boasted that he had only cut off two persons' heads for disagreeable behaviour at his table. In' spite of the paucity of the visitors executed, the example operated as a consider able impediment to conversation ; and the intensity of the punishment was found to be a full compensation for its rarity. How many persons have been deprived of curaci.s which they might have enjoyed but for the tenour of these interrogatories ? How many respecta ble clergymen have been deprived of the assistance ot curates connected with them by blood, friendship, or doctrine, and compelled to choose persons, for no other qualification than that they could pass through the eye of the bishop's needle? Violent measures are not to be judged of merely by the number of times they have been resorted to, but by the terror, misery, and re- straint which the severity is likely to' have produced. We never met with any style so entirely clear of all redundant and vicious ornament, as that which the ecclesiastical Lord of Peterborough has adopted to- wards his clergy. It in fact, may be all reduced to these few words — ' Reverend Sir, I shall do what I please. Peterborough.' — Even in the House of Lords, he speaks what we must call very plain language. Among other things, he says, that the allegations of the petitions are fahe. Now, as every bishop is, be- sides his other qualities, a gentleman ; and as the word false is used only by laymen, who mean to hazard their lives by the expression ; and as it cannot be sup- posed that foul language is ever used because it can be used with personal impunity, his lordship must, there- fore, be intended to mean not false, but mistaken — not a wilful deviation from truth, but an accidental and unintended departure from it. His lordship talks of the drudgery of wading through ten pages of answers to his eighty-seven questions. Who has occasioned this drudgery, but the person who means to be so much more active, useful, and im- portant, than all other bishops, by proposing questions which nobody has thought to be necessary but him- self? But to be intolerably strict and harsh to a poor curate, who is trying to earn a morsel of hard bread, and then to complain of the drudgery of reading his answers, is much like knocking a man down with a bludgeon, and then abusing him for splashing you with his blood, and pestering you with his groans. It is quite monstrous, that a man who inflicts eighty seven - new questions in theology upon his fellow-creatures, should talk of the drudgery of reading their answers. A curate — there is something which excites compas- sion in the very name of a curate ! ! ! How any man of purple, palaces, and preferment, can let himself loose against this poor workingman of God, we are at a loss to conceive, — a learned man in a hovel, with ser mons and saucepans, lexicons and bacon, Hebrew books and ragged children — good and patient — a com- forter and a preacher — the first and purest pauper in the hamlet, and yet showing, that, in the midst of his worldly misery, he has the heart of a gentleman, and the spirit of a Christian, and the kindness of a pastor • and this man, though he has exercised the duties of a clergyman for twenty years — though he has most am- ple testimonies of conduct from clergymen as respect- able as any bishop — though an archbishop add his name to the list of witnesses, is not good enough for Bishop Marsh ; but is pushed out in the street, with his wife and children, and his little furniture, to sur- render his honour, his faith, his* conscience, and his learning — or to starve ! An obvious objection to these innovations is, that there can be no end to them. Jf eighty-seven ques- tions are assumed to be necessary by one bishop, eight hundred may be considered as the minimum of inter- rogation by another. When once the ancient faith PERSECUTING BISHOPS. 121 jnarks of the church are lost sight of and despised, any- misled theologian may launch out on the boundless sea of polemical vexation. The Bishop of Peterborough is positve, that the Ar- il unian interpretation of the articles is the right inter- pretation, and that Calvinists should be excluded from it ; but the country gentlemen who are to hear these matters debated in the Lower House, are to remem- ber, that other bishops have written upon these points before the Bishop of Peterborough, and have arrived at conclusions diametrically opposite. When curates are excluded because their answers are Calvinistical, a careless layman might imagine that this interpreta- tion of the Articles had never been heard of before in the church — that it was a gross and palpable per- version of their sense, which had been scouted by all writers on church matters, from the day the Articles were promulgated, to this hour — that such an unheard of monster as a Calvinistical curate had never leaped over the pale before, and been detected browsing in the sacred pastures. The following is the testimony of Bishop Sher- lock : — '"The church has left a latitude of sense to prevent schisms and breaches upon every different opinion. It is evident the Church of England has so done in some articles, which are most liable to the hottest disputes ; which yet are penned with that temper as to be willingly subscribed by men of different apprehensions in those matters." — Sher- lock's Defence of Stilling fleet's Unreasonableness of Separa- tion. Bishop Cleaver, describing the difficulties attending so great an undertaking as the formation of a national creed, observes : — < " These difficulties, however, do not seem to have dis- couraged the great leaders in this work from forming a de- sign as wise as it was liberal, that of framing a confession, which, in the enumeration and method of its several arti- cles, should meet the approbation, and engage the consent, of the whole reformed world. < " If upon trial, it was found that a comprehension so ex- tensive could not be reduced to practice, still as large a com- prehension as could be contrived/within the narrower lim- its of the kingdom, became, for the same reasons which first suggested the idea, at once an object of prudence and duty, in the formation and government of the English church." ' After dwelling on the means necessary to accomplish this object, the bishop proceeds to remark : — "Such evident- ly appears to have been the origin, and such the actual com- plexion of the confession comprised in the Articles of our church ; the true scope and design of which will not, I conceive, be correctly apprehended in onu other view than that of one drawn up and adjusted with anffintention to comprehend the assent of all, rather than to exclude that of any who concurred in the necessity of a reformation. ' " The means of comprehension intended were, not any general ambiguity or equivocation of terms, but a prudent forbearance in all parties not to insist on the full extent of their ophiions in matters not essential or fundamental ; and in all cases to wave, as much as possible, tenets which might divide, where they wish to unite.'"— Remarks on the Design and Formation of the Articles of the Church of England, by William, Lord Bishop of Bangor, 1802.'— pp.53— 25. We wall finish with Bishop Horsley. « It has been the fashion of late to talk about Arminianism as the system of the Church of England, and of Calvinism as something opposite to it, to which the church is hostile. That I may not be misunderstood in what I have stated, or may have occasion further to say upon this subject, I must here declare, that I use the words Arminianism and Calvin- ism in that restricted sense in which they are now general- ly taken, to denote the doctrinal part of each system, as un- connected with the principles either of Arminians or Calvin- ists upon church discipline and church government. This being premised, I assert, what I often have before asserted, and by God's grace I will persist in the assertion to my dy- ing day, til at so far is it from the truth that the Church of England is decidedly Armenian, and hostile to Calvinism, that the truth is this, that upon the principal points in dispute between the Arminians and the Calvinists upon all the points of doctrine, characteristic of the two sects, the Church of Eng- land maintains an absolute neutrality ; her articles explicitly assert nothing but what is believed both by Arminians and by Calvinists. The Calvinists indeed hold some opinions re- lative to the same points, which the Church of England has not gone the length of asserting in her Articles ; but neither ha* she gone the length of explicitly contradicting *hose opinions ; insomuch that there is nothing to hinder the Ar- minian and the highest supralapsarian Calvinist from walking together in the Church of England and Ireland as friends and brothers, if they both approve the discipline of the church, and both are willing to submit to it. Her discipline has been ap- proved ; it has been submitted to ; it has been in former times most ably and zealously defended by the highest su- pralapsarian Calvinists. Such was the great Usher ; such wasWhitgift; such were many more, burning and shining lights of our church in her early days (when first she shook off the Papal tyranny), long since gone to the resting place of the spirits of the just.— Bishop Horsley's Charges, p. 216.' pp. 25, 26. So that these unhappy curates are turned out of their bread for an exposition of the Articles which such men as Sherlock, Cleaver, and Horsley think may be fairly given of their meaning. We do not quote their au- thority to show that the right interpretation is decid- ed, but that it is doubtful — that there is a balance of authorities — that the opinion which Bishop Marsh has punished with poverty and degradation, has been con- sidered to be legitimate, by men at least as wise and learned as himself. In fact, it is to us perfectly clear, that the Articles were originally framed to prevent the very practices which Bishop Marsh has used for their protection — they were purposely so worded, that Arminians and Calvinists could sign them without blame. They were intended to combine both these descriptions of Protestants, and were meant principally for a bulwark against the Catholics. 'Thus,' says Bishop Burnet, ' was the doctrine of the church cast into a short and plain form ; in which they took care both to establish the positive articles of religion, and to cut off the errors formerly introduced in the time of po- pery, or of late broached by the Anabaptists and enthusi- asts of Germany; avoiding the niceties of schoolmen, or the peremptoriness of the writers of controversy ; leaving matters that are more justly controvertible, a liberty to divines to fol- low their private opinions, without thereby disturbing the peace of the church:— History of the Reformation, Book I. part ii. p. 168, folio edition. The next authority is that of Fuller. « In the convocation now sitting, wherein Alexander No- wel, Dean of St. Paul's, was prolocutor, the ninth and-thir- ty Articles were composed. For the main they agree with those set forth in the reign or King Edward the Sixth, though in some particulars allowing more liberty to dissent- ing judgements. For instance, in this King's Articles it is said, that it is to be believed that Christ went down to hell (to preach to the spirits there) ; which last clause is left out in these Articles, and men left to a latitude concerning the cause, time, and manner of his descent. < Hence some have unjustly taxed the composers for too much favour extended in their large expressions, clean through the contexture of these Articles, which should harve tied men's consciences up closer, in more strict and partic- ularizing propositions, which indeed proceeded from their commendable moderation. Children's clothes ought to be made of the biggest, because afterwards their bodies will grow up to their garments. Thus the Articles of this Eng- lish Protestant Church, in the infancy thereof, they thought good to draw up in general terms, foreseeing that posterity would grow up to fill the same : I mean these holy men did prudently prediscover, that difference in judgements would unavoidably happen in the church, and were loath to unchurch any, and drive them off from an ecclesiastical commu- munion,for such petty differences, which made them pen the Articles in comprehensive words, to take in all who, differing in the branches, meet in the root of the same religion. ' Indeed most of them had formerly been sufferers them- selves, and cannot be said, in compiling these Articles (an acceptable service, no doubt,) to offer to God -what cost them nothing, some having paid imprisonment, others ex- ile, all losses in their estates, for this their experimental knowledge in religion, which made them the more merciful and tender in stating those points, seeing such who them- selves have been most patient in bearing, will be most pit- iful in burdening the consciences of others.' — See Fuller's Church History, book ix. p. 72, folio edit. But this generous and pacific spirit gives no room for the display of zeal and theological learning. The gate of admission has been left too widely open. I may as well be without power at all, if I cannot force my opinions upon other people. What was purposely left indefinite, I must make definite and exclusive. Questions of contention and difference must be laid before the servants of the church, and nothing 13' 122 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. neutrality in theological metaphysics allowed to the ministers of the Gospel. I come not to bring peace, &c. The bishop, however, seems to be quite satisfied with himself, when he states, that he has a right to do what he has done— just as if a man's character with his fellow-creatures depended upon legal rights alone, and not upon a discreet exercise of those rights. A man may persevere in doing what he has a right to do, till the chancellor shuts him up in Bedlam, or till the mob pelt him as he passes. It must be presumed, that all men whom the law has invested with rights, nature has invested with common sense, to use those rights. For these reasons, children have no rights till they have gained common sense, and old men have no rights after they lose their common sense. All men are at all times accountable to their fellow-crea- tures for the discreet exercise of every right they pos- sess. Prelates are fond of talking of my see, my clergy, my diocese, as if these things belonged to them, as their pigs and dogs belonged to them. They forget that the clergy, the diocese, and the bishops themselves, all ex- ist only for the public good ; that the public are«a third, and principal party in the whole concern. It is not simply the tormenting Bishop versus the tormented Curate, but the public against the system of tormenting; as tending to bring scandal upon religion and religious men. By the late alteration of the laws, the labour- ers in the vineyard are given up to the power of the inspectors of the vineyard. If he has the meanness and malice to do so, an inspector may worry and plague to death any labourer against whom he may have conceived an antipathy. As often as such cases are detected, we believe they will meet, in either House of Parliament, with the severest reprehension. The noblemen and gentlemen of England will never allow their parish clergy to be treated with cruelty, injustice, and caprice, by men who were parish cler- gymen themselves yesterday, and who were trusted with power for very different purposes. The Bishop of Peterborough complains of the inso- lence of the answers made to him. This is certainly not true of Mr. Grimshawe, Mr. Neville, or of the au- thor of the Appeal. They have answered his lordship with great manliness, but with perfect respect. Does the bishop expect that humble men, as learned as himself, are to be driven from their houses and homes by his new theology, and then to send him letters of thanks for the kicks and cuffs he has bestowed upon them? Men of very small incomes, be it known to his lordship, have very often very acute feelings ; and a curate trod on feels a pang as great as when a bishop is refuted. We shall now give a specimen of some answers, which, we believe, would exclude a curate from the diocess of Peterborough, and contrast these answers with the articles of the church to which they refer. The 9th Article of the Church of England is upon Ori- ginal Sin. Upon this point his lordship puts the fol- lowing question: — 'Did the Fall of Adam produce such an effect on his posterity, that mankind became thereby a mass of mere corruption, or of absolute and entire depravity ? Or is the effect only such, that we are very far gone from original righteousness, and of our own nature inclined to evil? ' Excluding Answer. The Ninth Article. ' The fall of Adam ' Original sin standeth not in the fol- produced such an lowing of Adam (as the Pelagians do effect on his poste- vainly talk) ; but it is the fault or cor- rity, that mankind ruption of the nature of every man, that became thereby a naturally is engendered of the offspring mass of corruption, of Adam, whereby man is very far gone or of absolute and from original righteousness, and is of his entire depravity.' own nature inclined to evil, so that the flesh always lusteth contrary to the spirit; and therefore in every person born into the world, it deserveth God's wrath and damnation.' The 9th Question, Cap. 3d, on Free Will, is as fol- lows : — Is it not contrary to Scripture to say, that man has share in the work of his salvation ? Excluding Answer. Tenth Article. ' It is quite agree- ' The condition of man after the fall of able to Scripture to Adam is suth, , that he cannot turn and say, that man has no prepare himself, by his own natural share in the work of strength and good works, to faith, and his own salvation.' calling upon God. Wherefore, we have no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us when we have that good will.' On Redemption, his lordship has the following ques- tion, Cap. 1st, Question 1st : — Did Christ die for all men, or did he die only for a chosen few ? Excluding Answer. 'Christdidnotdie for all men, but only for a chosen few.' Part of Article Seventeenth. ' Predestination to life is the everlast- ing purpose of God, whereby (before the foundations of the world were laid) he hath constantly decreed by his counsel, secret to us, to deliver from curse and damnation those whom he hath chosen in Christ out of mankind, and to bring them by Christ unto everlasting salva- tion, as vessels made to honour.' Now, whether these answers are right or wrong, we do not presume to decide ; but we cannot help saying, there appears to be some little colour in the language of the Articles for the errors of the respondent. It does not appear at first sight to be such a deviation from the plain, literal, and grammatical sense of the Articles, as to merit rapid and ignominious ejectment from the bosom of the church. Now we have done with the bishop. We give him all he asks as to his legal right ; and only contend, that he is acting a very indiscreet and injudicious part — fatal to his quiet, fatal to his reputation as a man of sense, blamed by ministers, blamed by all the Bench of Bishops, vexatious to the clergy, and highly injurious to the church. We mean no personal disre- spect to the bishop ; we are as ignorant of him as of his victims, We should have been heartily glad if the debate in Parliament had put an end to these blamea- ble excesses; and our only object, in meddling with the question, is to restrain the arm of power within the limits of moderation and justice; one of the great objects which first led to the establishment of this Journal, and Avhich, we hope, will always continue to characterize its efforts. BOTANY BAY. (Edinburgh Review, 1823.) 1. Letter to Earl Bathurst, by the Hon. H. Grey Bennet, M.P 2. Report of the Commissioner of Inquiry into the State of the Colony of New South Wales. Ordered by the House of Com- mons to be printed, ldth June, 1822. Mr. Bigge's Report is somewhat long, and a little clumsy ; but it is altogether the production of an hon- est, sensible, and respectable man, who has done his duty to the public, and justified the expense of his mission to the fifth or pickpocket quarter of the globe. What manner of man is Governor Macquarrie ? — is all that Mr. Bennet says of him in the House of Com- mons true ? These are the questions which Lord Ba- thurst sent Mr". Bigge, and very properly sent him, 28,000 miles to answer. The answer is, that Governor Macquarrie is not a dishonest man, nor a jobber ; but arbitrary, in many things scandalously negligent, very often wrong-headed, and, upon the whole, very defi- cient in that good sense, and vigorous understanding, which his new and arduous situation so manifestly re- quires. Ornamental architecture in Botany Bay ! How it could enter into the head of any human being to adorn public buildings at the Bay, or to aim at any other ar- chitectural purpose but the exclusion of wind and rain, we are utterly at a loss to conceive. Such an expense is not only lamentable for the waste of property it makes in the particular instance, but because it de- stroys that guarantee of sound sense which the go- vernment at home must require in those who preside over distant colonies. A man who thinks of pillars BOTANY BAY. 123 and pilasters, when half the colony are wet through for want of any covering at all, cannot be a wise or prudent person He seems to be ignorant, that the prevention of rheumatism in all young colonies is a much more important object than the gratification of taste, or the display of skill. 'I suggested to Governor Macquarrie the expediency of stopping all work then in progress that was merely of an orna- mental nature, and of postponing its execution till other more important buildings were finished. With this view it was that I recommended to the governor to stop the progress of a large church, the foundation of which had been laid previous to my arrival, and which, by the estimate of Mr. Greenway, the architect) would have required six years to complete. By a change that I recommended, and which the governor adopted, in the destination of the new court-house at Sydney, the ac- commodation of a new church is probably by this time secured. A.s 1 conceived that considerable advantage had been gained by inducing Governor Macquarrie to suspend the progress of the larger church, I did not deem it necessary to make any pointed objection to the addition of these ornamental parts of the smaller one 5 though I regretted to observe in this instance, as woll as in those of the new stables at Sydney, the turnpike- g&ts-heuse, and the new fountain there, as well as in the re- pairs of an old church at Paramatta, how much more the em- bellishment of these places had been considered by the governor than the real and pressing wants of the colony. The build- ings that I had recommended to his early attention in Sydney, were, a new gaol, a school-house, and a market-house. The defect:! of the first of these buildings will be more particularly pointed out when I come to describe the buildings that have bemi erected in New South Wales. It is sufficient for me now u> observe that they were striking, and of a nature not to be remedied by additions or repairs. The other two were in a state of absolute ruin; they were also of undeniable import- ance and necessity. Having left Sydney in the month of No- vember, 1820, with these impressions, and with a belief that the suggestions I had made to Governor Macquarrie respecting them had been partly acted upon, and would continue to be so r mug my absence in Van Dieraen's Land, it was not without much suftrise and regret that I learnt, during my residence in l i.tt settlement, the resumption of the work at the large chmc 1 in Sydney, and the steady continuation of the others t'sat I had objected to, especially the governor's stables at Sydney. I felt the greater surprise in receiving the informa- tion respecting this last-named structure, during my absence in Van Dieinen's Land, as the governor himself had, upon many occasions; expressed to me his own regret at having ever sanc- tioned it, and his consciousness of its extravagant dimensions aii, I ostentatious character.' — Report, pp. 51,52. One of the great difficulties of Botany Bay is to find proper employment for the great mass of convicts who ore sent out. Governor Macquarrie selects all the best artisans, of every description, for the use of go- •. ijrnment ; and puts the poets, attorneys, and politici- ans, up to auction. The evil consequences of this are manifold! In the first place, from possessing so many of the best artificers, the governor is necessarily turn- ed into a builder; and immense drafts are drawn upon the treasury at home, for buildings better adapted for Regent street than the Bay. In the next place, the poor settler, finding that the convict attorney is very awkward at cutting timber, or catching kangaroos, won returns him upon the hands of government, in a much worse plight than that in which he was received. Not only are governors thus debauched into useless and expensive builders, but the colonists, who are : (.homing and planning with all the activity of new settlers, cannot find workmen to execute their de- signs. What two ideas are more inseparable than beer and Britannia? — what event more awfully important to an English colony, than the erection of its first brew- Louse ? — and yet it required, in Van Dieman's Land, the greatest solicitation to the government, and all the influence of Mr. Bigge, to get it effected. The go- vernment, having obtained possession of the best workmen, keep them; their manumission is much more infrequent than that of the useless and unprofita- ble convicts ; in other words, one man is punished for his skill, and another rewarded for his inutility. Guil- ty of being a locksmith — guilty of stone-masonry, or brick-making ; — these are the second verdicts brought in, in New South Wales ; and upon them the duration or mitigation of punishment awarded in the mother- country. At the very period when the governor as- sured Lord Bathurst, in his despatches, that he kept I and employed so numerous a gang of workmen, only because the inhabitants could not employ them, Mr. Bigge informs us, that their services would have been most acceptable to the colonists. Most of the set- tlers, at the time of Mr. Bigge's arrival, from repeated refusals and disappointments, had been so convinced of the impossibility of obtaining workmen, that they had ceased to make application to the governor. Is it to be believed, that a governor, placed over a land of convicts, and capable of guarding his limbs from any sudden collision with odometrous stones, or verti- cal posts of direction, should make no distinction be- tween the simple convict and the double and treble convict — the man of three juries, who has three times appeared at the Bailey, trilarcenous — three times dri- ven over the seas ? 'I think it necessary to notice the want of attention that has prevailed, until a very late period, at Sydney, to the circum- stances of those convicts who have been transported a second and a third time. Although the knowledge of these facts is transmitted in the hulk lists, or acquired without difficulty during the passage, it never has occurred to Governor Mac- quarrie or to the superintendents of convicts, to make any difference in the condition of these men, not even to disappoint the views that they may be supposed to have indulged by the success of a criminal enterprise in England, and by transfer- ring the fruits of it to New South Wales. ' To accomplish this very simple but important object, no- thing more was necessary than to consign these men to any situation rather than that which their friends had selected for them, and distinctly to declare in the presence of their com- rades at the first muster on tin ir arrival, that no consideration or favour would be shown to those who had violated the law a second time, and that the mitigation of their sentences must be indefinitely postponed.' — Report, p. 19. We were not a little amused at Governor Macquar- rie's laureate — a regular Mr. Southey — who, upon the king's birth day, sings the praises of Governor Mac- quarrie.* The case of this votary of Apollo and Mercury was a case for life ; the offence a menacing epistle, or, as low people call it, a threatening letter. He has been pardoned, however — bursting his shack- les, like Orpheus of old, with song and metre, and is well spoken of by Mr. Bigge, but no specimen of his poetry given. One of the best and most enlightened men in the settlement appears to be Mr. Marsden, a clergyman at Paramatta . Mr. Bennet represents him as a gentleman of great feeling, whose life is embit- tered by the scenes of horror and vice it is his lot to witness at Paramatta. Indeed, he says of himself, that, in consequence of these things, c he does not en- joy one happy moment from the beginning to the end of the week V This letter, at the time, produced a very considerable sensation in this country. The idea of a man of refinement and feeling wearing away his life in the midst of scenes of crime and debauchery to which he can apply no corrective is certainly a very melancholy and affecting picture ; but there is no story, however elegant and eloquent, which does not require, for the purposes of justice, to be turned to the other side, and viewed in reverse. The Rev. Mr. Marsden (says Mr. Bigge), being himself accustomed to traffic in spirits, must necessarily feel displeased at having so many public houses licensed in the neighbourhood, -(p. 14.) 'As to Mr. Marsden's troubles of mind,' (says the governor,) ' and pathetic display of sensibility and humanity, they must be so deeply seated, and so far removed from the surface, as to escape all possible observation. His habits are those of a man for ever engaged in some active, animated pursuit. No man travels more from town to town, or from house to house. His deportment is at all times that of a person the most gay and happy. When I was honoured with his society, he was by far the most cheerful person I met in the colony. Where his hours of sorrow were spent, it is hard to divine ; for the variety of his pursuits, both in his own concerns and those of others, is so extensive, in farming, grazing, manufactories, transactions, that, with his clerical duties, he seems, to use a common phrase, to have his hands full of work. And the par ticular subject to which he imputes this extreme depression of mind, is, besides, one for which few people here will give him much credit.' — Macquarrie's Letter to Lord Sidmouth, p. 18. There is certainly a wide difference between a man of so much feeling, that he has not a moment's happi- * Vide Report, p. 146. 124 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. ness from the beginning to the end of the week, and a little merry bustling clergyman, largely concerned in the sale of rum, and brisk at a bargain for barley. Mr. Bigge's evidence, however, is very much in favour of Mr. Marsden. He seems to think him a man of highly respectable character and superior understanding, and that he has been dismissed from the magistracy by Governor Macquarrie, in a very rash, unjustifiable, and even tyrannical manner ; and in these opinions, we must say, the facts seem to bear out the report of the commissioner. Colonel Macquarrie not only dismisses honest and irreproachable men in a country where their existence is scarce, and their services inestimable, but he ad- vances convicts to the situation and dignity of magis- trates. Mr. Bennet lays great stress upon this, and makes it one of his strongest charges against the go- vernor ; and the commissioner also takes part against it. But we confess we have great doubts on the sub- ject ; and are by no means satisfied, that the system of the governor was not, upon the whole, the wisest and best adapted to the situation of the colony. Men are governed by words; and by the infamous term convict, are comprehended crimes of the most differ- ent degrees and species of guilt. One man is trans- ported for stealing three hams and a pot of sausages ; and in the next berth to him on board the transport is a young surgeon, who has been engaged in the mutiny at the Nore ; the third man is for extorting money ; the fourth was in a respectable situation of life at the time of the Irish rebellion, and was so ill read in history, as to imagine that Ireland had been ill treated by England, and so bad a reasoner as to suppose, that nine Catholics ought not to pay tithes to one Protes- tant. Then comes a man who set his house on fire, to cheat the Phoenix office; and lastly, that most glaring of all human villains, a poacher, driven from Europe, wife and child, by thirty lords of manors, at the Quarter Sessions, for killing a partridge. Now, all these are crimes no doubt — particularly the last ; but they are surely crimes of very different degrees of intensity, to which different degrees of contempt and horror are attached — and from which those who have committed them may, by subsequent morality, emanci- pate themselves, with different degrees of difficulty, and with more or less of success. A warrant granted by a reformed bacon stealer would be absurd; but there is hardly any reason why a foolish hot-brained young blockhead, who chose to favour the mutineers at the Nore, when he was sixteen years of age, may not make a very loyal subject, and a very respectable and respected magistrate when he is forty years of age, and has cast his Jacobine teeth, and fallen into the practical jobbing and loyal baseness which so commonly developes itself about that period of life. Therefore, to say that a man must be placed in no situation of trust or elevation, as a magistrate, merely because he is a convict, is to govern mankind with a dictionary, and to surrender sense and usefulness to sound. Take the following case, for instance, from Mr. Bigge : — • The next person from the same class, that was so distin- guished by Gov. Macquarrie, was the Rev. Mr. Fulton. He was transported by the sentence of a court martial in Ireland, during the Rebellion ; and on his arrival in New South Wales in the year 1800, was sent to Norfolk Island to officiate as chaplain. He returned to New South Wales in the year 1804, and performed the duties of chaplain at Sydney and Para- matta. • In the divisions that prevailed in the colony previous to the arrest of Governor Bligh, Mr. Fulton took no part ; but hap- pening to form one of his family when the person of the governor was menaced with violence, he courageously opposed himself to the military party that entered the house, and gave an example of courage and devotion to Governor Bligh, which, if partaken either by the officer or his few adherents, would have spared him the humiliation of a personal arrest, and rescued his authority from open and violent suspension.' — Report,??. 83, 84. The particular nature of the place too must be re- membered. It is seldom, we suspect, that absolute dunces go to the Bay, but commonly men of active minds, and considerable talents in their various lines —who have not learnt, indeed, the art of self-discip- line and control, but who are sent to learn it in the bitter school of adversity. And when this medicine produces its proper effect — when sufficient time has been given to show a thorough change in character and disposition — a young colony really cannot afford to dispense with the services of any person of superior talents. Activity, resolution, and acuteness, are of such immense importance in the hard circumstances of a new state, that they must be eagerly caught at, and employed as soon as they are discovered. Though all may not be quite so unobjectionable as could be wished — \ Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt Moliri' — as Colonel Macquarrie probably quoted to Mr. Com- missioner Bigge. As for the conduct of those extra- moralists, who come to settle in a land of crime, and refuse to associate with a convict legally pardoned, however light his original offence, however perfect his subsequent conduct — we have no toleration for such folly and foppery. To sit down to dinner with men who have not been tried for their fives is a luxury which cannot be enjoyed in such a countrj r . It is en- tirely out of the question ; and persons so dainty, and so truly admirable, had better settle at Clapham Com- mon than at Botany Bay. Our trade hi Australasia is to turn scoundrels into honest men. If you come among us, and bring with you a good character, and will lend us your society, as a stimulus and reward to men recovering from degradation, you will confer the greatest possible benefit upon the colony ; but if you turn up your nose at repentance, insult those unhappy people with your character, and fiercely stand up as a moral bully, and a virtuous braggadocio, it would have been far better for us if Providence had directed you to any other part of the globe than to Botany Bay — which was colonized, not to gratify the insolence ol Pharisees, but to heal the contrite spirit of repentant sinners. Mr. Marsden, who has no happiness from six o'clock Monday morning, till the same hour the week following, will not meet pardoned convicts in society. We have no doubt Mr. Marsden is a very respectable clergyman ; but is there not something very different from this in the Gospel ? The .most re- solute and inflexible persons in the rejection of pardon- ed convicts were some of the marching regiments stationed at Botany Bay — men, of course, Avho had uniformly shunned, in the Old World, the society of gamesters, prostitutes, drunkards, and blasphemers — who had ruined no tailors, corrupted no wives, and had entitled themselves, by a long course of solemni- ty and decorum, to indulge in all the insolence of purity and virtue. In this point, then, of restoring convicts to society, we side, as far'as the principle goes, with the gover- nor ; but we are far from undertaking to say that his application of the principle has been on all occasions prudent and judicious. Upon the absurdity of his con- duct in attempting to force the society of the pardon- ed convicts upon the undetected part of the colony, there can be no doubt. These are points upon which every body must be allowed to judge for themselves. The greatest monarchs in Europe cannot control opi- nion upon those points — sovereigns far exceeding Co- lonel Lachlan Macquarrie, in the antiquity of their dynasty, and the extent, wealth, and importance ot their empire. ' It was in vain to assemble them' (the pardoned convicts) ' even on public occasions, at Government House, and to point them out to the especial notice and favour of strangers, or to favour them with particular marks of his own attention upon these occasions, if they still continued to be shunned, or disre- garded by the rest of the company. ' With the exception of the Rev. Mr. Fulton, and, on some occasions, of Mr. Redfern, I never observed that the other persons of this class participated in the general attentions ol the company ; and the evidence of Mr. Judge Advocate Wylde and Major Bell both prove the embarrassment in which they were left on occasions that came within their notice. 1 Nor has the distinction that has been conferred upon them by Governor Macquarrie produced any effect in subduing the prejudices or objections of the class of free inhabitants to asso- ciate with them. One instance only has occurred, in which the wife of a respectable individual, and a magistrate, has been BOTANY BAY. 125 visited by the wives of the officers of the garrison, and by a few of the married ladies of the colony. It is an instance that reflects equal credit upon the individual herself, as upon the feelings and motives' of those by whom she has been noticed ; but the circumstances of her case were very peculiar, and those that led to her introduction to society were very much of a personal kind. It has generally been thought that such in- stances would have been more numerous if Governor Mac- quarrie had allowed every person to follow the dictates of their own judgment upon a subject, which, of all others, men are least disposed to be dictated to, and most disposed to judge for themselves.' 'Although the emancipated convicts, whom he has selected from their class, are persons who generally bear a good cha- racter in New South Wales, yet that opinion of them is by no means universal. Those, however, who entertained a good opinion of them would have proved it by their notice, as Mr. M'Arthur has been in the habit of doing, by the kind and marked notice that he took of Mr. Fitzgerald; and those who entertained a different opinion, would not have contracted an aversion to the principle of their introduction, from being obliged to witness what they considered to be an indiscreet and erroneous application of it.' — Report, p. 150. We do not think Mr. Bigge exactly seizes the sense of Colonel Macquarrie's phrase, when the colonel speaks of restoring men to the rank of society they have lost. Men may either be classed by wealth and education, or by character. All honest men, whether counts or cobblers, are of the same rank, if classed by moral distinctions. It is a common phrase to say that such a man can no longer be ranked among honest men ; that he has been degraded from the class of respectable persons ; and, therefore, by restoring a convict to the rank he has lost, the governor may very fairly be supposed to mean the moral rank. In discussing the question of granting offices of trust to convicts, the importance of the Sclerati must not be overlooked. Their numbers are very considerable. They have one-eigthth of all the granted land in the colony ; and there are among them individuals of very large fortune. Mr. Redfern has 2600 acres, Mr. Lord 4365 acres, and Mr. Samuel Terry 19,000 acres. As this man's history is a specimen of the mud and dirt out of which great families often arise, let the Terry Filii the future warriors, legislators, and nobility of the Bay, learn from what, and whom, they sprang. Tl e first of these individuals, Samuel Terry, was trans- ported to the colony when young. He was placed in a gang of stone masons at Paramatta, and assisted the building of the gaol. Mr. Marsden states, that during this period he was brought before him for neglect of duty, and punished ; but by his industry in other ways, he was enabled to set up a small retail shop, in which he continued till the expiration of his term of service. He then repaired to Sydney, where he ex- tended his business, and, by marriage, increased his capital. He for many years kept a public house and retail shop, to which the smaller settlers resorted from the country, and where, after intoxicating themselves with spirits, they signed obligations and powers of attorney to confess judgment, which were always kept ready for execution. By these means, and by an active use of the common arts of overreaching ignorant men, Samuel Terry has been able to accumulate a considerable capital, and a quantity of land in New South Wales, inferior only to that which is held by Mr. D'Arcy Wentworth. He ceased, at the late regulations introduced by the, magistrates at Sydney, in February, 1820, to sell spirituous liquors, and he is now become one of the principal speculators in the purchase of investments at Sydney, and lately established a water-mill in the swampy plains between that town and Botany Bay, which did not succeed. Out of the 19,000 acres of land held by Samuel Terry, 140 only are stated to be cleared ; but he pos- sesses 1450 head of horned cattle, and 3800 sheep.'— Report, p. 141. Upon the subject of the New South Wales Bank, — Mr. Bigge observes,— 'Upon the first of these occasions, it became an object both with Governor Macquarrie and Mr. Judge-Advocate Wyld, who took an active part in the establishment of the bank, to unite in its favour the support and contributions of the indi- viduals of all classes of the colony. Governor Macquarrie felt assured that, without such co-operation, the bank could not be established ; for he was convinced that the emancipated con- victs were the most opulent members of the community. A committee was formed for the purpose of drawing up the rules and regulations of the establishment, in which are to be found the names of George Howe, the printer of the Sydney Gazette, who was also a retail dealer ; Mr. Simon Lord, and Mr. Edward Eager, all emancipated convicts, and the last only conditionally. 'Governor Macquarrie had always understood, and strongly wished, that in asking for the co-operation of all classes of the community in the formation of the bank, a sh re in its direc- tion and management should also be communicated to them.' I —Report, p. 150. In the discussion of this question, we became ac- quainted with a piece of military etiquette, of which we were previously ignorant. An officer, invited to dinner by the governor, cannot refuse, unless in case of sickness. This is the most complete tyranny we ever heard of. If the officer comes out to his duty at the proper minute, with his proper number of buttons and epaulettes, what matters it to the governor or any body else, where he dines ? He may as well be or- dered what to eat, as where to dine — be confined to the upper or under side of the meat — be denied gravy, or refused melted butter. But there is no end to the small tyranny, and puerile vexations of a military life. The mode of employing convicts upon their arrival appears to us very objectionable. If a man is skilful as a mechanic, he is added to the government gangs ; and in proportion to his skill and diligence, his chance of manumission, or of remission of labour, is lessened. If he is not skilful, or not skilful in any trade wanted by government, he is applied for by some settler, — to whom he pays from 5s. to 10s. a-week; and is then left at liberty to go where, and work for whomsoever, be pleases. In the same manner, a convict who is rich is applied for, and obtains his weekly liberty and idleness by the purchased permission of the person to whom he is consigned. The greatest possible inattention or ignorance ap- pears to have prevailed in manumitting convicts for labour — and for such labour ! not for cleansing Augean stables, or draining Pontine marshes, or damming out a vast length of the Adriatic, but for working five weeks with a single horse and cart in making the road to Bathurst Plains. Was such labour worth five pounds ? And is it to be understood, that liberty is to be restored to any man who will do five pounds' worth of work in Australasia ? Is this comment upon transportation to be circulated in the cells of New- gate, or in the haunts of those persons who are doomed to inhabit them ? ' Another principle by which Governor Macquarrie has been guided in bestowing pardons and indulgences, is that of con- sidering them as rewards for any particular labour or enter- prise. It was upon this principle, that the men who were em- ployed in working upon the Bathurst road, in the year 1815, and those who contributed to that operation by the loan of their own carts and horses, or of those that they procured, ob- tained pardons, emancipations, and tickets of leave. To 39 men who were employed as labourers in this work, three free pardons were given, one ticket of leave, and 35 emancipa- tions ; and two of them only had held tickets of leave before they commenced their labour. Seven convicts received eman- cipations for supplying horses and carts for the carriage of provisions and stores as the party was proceedimg ; six out of this number having previously held tickets of leave. ' Eight other convicts (four of whom held tickets of leave) received emancipations for assisting with carts, and one horse to each, in the transport of provisions and baggage for the use of Governor Macquarrie and his suite, on their journey from the river Nepean to Bathurst, in the year 1816 ; a service that did not extend beyond the period of five weeks, and was at- tended with no risk, and very little exertion. ' Between the months of January, 1816, and June, 1818, nine convicts, of whom six held tickets of leave, obtained emancipa- tions for sending carts and horses to convey provisions and baggage from Paramatta to Bathurst, for the use of Mr. Oxley, the surveyor-general, in his two expeditions into the interior of the country. And in the same period, 23 convict labourers and mechanics obtained emancipations for labour and service performed at Bathurst. ' The nature of the services performed by these convicts, and the manner in which some of them were recommended, excited much surprise in the colony, as well as great suspicion of the purity of the channels through which the recommenda- tions passed.' — Report, pp. 122, 123. If we are to judge from the number of jobs detected by Mr. Bigge, Botany Bay seems very likely to do justice to the mother-country from whence it sprang Mr. Redfern, surgeon, seems to use the public rhubarb for bis private practice. Mr. Hutchinson, superinten- dent, makes a very comfortable thing of the assign- ment of convicts. Major Druit was found selling theix 126 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. own cabbages to government in a very profitable man- ner; and many comfortable little practices of this nature are noticed by Mr. Bigge. Among other sources of profit, the superintendent of the convicts was the banker ; two occupations which seem to be eminently compatible with each other, inasmuch as they afford to the superintendent the opportunity of evincing his impartiality and load- ing with equal labour every convict, without reference to their banking account , to the profit they afford, or the trouble they create. It appears, however (very strangely ), from the report, that the money of con- victs was not always recovered with the same readi- ness it was received. Mr. Richard Fitzgerald, in September, 1819, was comptroller of Provisions in Emu Plains, storekeeper at Windsor, and superintendent of government works at the same place. He was also a proprietor of land and stock in the neighbourhood, and kept a public house in Windsor, of which an emancipated Jew was the ostensible manager, upon whom Fitzgerald gave orders for goods and spirits in payment for labour on the public works. These two places are fifteen miles distant from each other, and convicts are to be watch- ed and managed at both. It cannot be imagined that the convicts are slow in observing or following these laudable examples; and their conduct will add an- other instance of the vigilance of Macquarrie's govern- ment. 'The stores and materials used in the different buildings at Sydney are kept in a magazine in the lumber yard, and are distributed according to the written requisitions of the differ- ent overseers that are made during the day, and that are ad- dressed to the storekeeper in the lumber yard. They are con- veyed from thence to the buildings by the convict mechanics; and no account of the expenditure or employment of the stores is kept by the overseers, or rendered to the store-keeper. It was only in the early part of the year 1820 that an account was opened by him of the different materials used in each work or building ; and in February, 1821, this account was considerably in arrear. The temptation, therefore, that is afforded to the convict mechanics who work in the lumber- yard, in secreting tools, stores, and implements, and to those who work at the different buildings, is very great, and the loss to government is considerable. The tools, moreover, have not latterly been mustered as they used to be once a month, ex- cept where one of the convicts is removed from Sydney to an- other station.' — Report, pp. 36, 37. If it was right to build fine houses in a new colony, common sense seems to point out a control upon the expenditure, with such a description of workmen. What must become of that country where the build- ings are useless, the governor not wise, the public the paymaster, the accounts not in existence, and all the artisans thieves ? An horrid practice prevailed, of the convicts accept- ing a sum of money from the captain, in their voyage out, in lieu of their regular ration of provisions. This ought to be restrained by the severest penalties. What is it that can be urged for Governor Macquar- rie, after the following picture of the hospital at Para- matta ? It not only justifies his recall, but seems to require (if there are means of reaching such neglect) his severe punishment. 1 The women, who had become most profligate and hardened by habit, were associated in their daily tasks with those who had very lately arrived, to whom the customs and practices of the colony were yet unknown, and who might have escaped the consequences of such pernicious lessons, if a little care, and a small portion of expense, had been spared in providing them with a separate apartment during the hours of labour. As a place of employment, the factory at Paramatta was not only very defective, but very prejudicial. The insufficient ac- commodation that it afforded to those females who might be well disposed, presented an early incitement, if not an excuse, for their resorting to indiscriminate prostitution ; and on the evening of their arrival at Paramatta, those who were not de- ploring their state of abandonment and distress, were travers- ing the streets in search of the guilty means of future support. The state in which the place itself was kept, and the state of disgusting filth in which I found it, both on an early visit after my arrival, and on one preceding my departure ; the disorder- ed, unruly, and licentious appearance of the women, manifest- ed the little degree of control in which the female convicts were kept, and the litttle attention that was paid to any thing beyond the mere performance of a certain portion of labour.' — Report, p. 70. It might naturally be supposed, that any man sent across the globe with a good salary, for the express purpose of governing, and, if possible, of reforming convicts, would have preferred the morals of his con- victs to the accommodation of his horses. Let Mr. Bigge, a very discreet and moderate man, be heard upon these points. 'Having observed, in Governor Macquarrie's answer to Mr. Marsden, that he justified the delay that occurred, and was still to take place, in the construction of a proper place of reception for the female convicts, by the want of any specific instructions from your lordship to undertake such a building, and which he states that he solicited at an early period of his government, and considered indispensable, I felt it to be my duty to call to the recollection of Governor Macquarrie, that he had undertaken several buildings of much less urgent necessity than the factory at Paramatta, without waiting for any such indispensable authority : and I now find that the construction of it was announced by him to your lordship in the year 1817, as then in his contem- plation, without making any specific allusion to the evils which the want of it had so long occasioned : that the con- tract for building it was announced to the public on the 21st May, 1813, and that your lordship's approval of it was not signified until the 24th August, 1818, and could not have reached Governor Macquarrie's hands until nearly a year after thework had been undertaken. It appears, therefore, that if want of authority had been the sole cause of delay in budding the factory at Paramatta, that cause would not only have operated in the month of March, 1818, but it would have continued to operate until the want of authority had been formerly supplied. Governor Macquarri, however, must be conscious, that after he had stated to Mr. Marsden in the year 1815, and with an appearance of regret, that the want of authority prevented him from undertaking the con struction of a building of such undeniable necessity and ixn portance as the factory at Paramatta, he had undertaken several buildings, which, though useful in themselves, were of less comparative importance ; and had commenced, in the month of August, 1817, the laborious and expensive construc- tion of his own stables at Sydney, to which I have already allud- ed, without any previous communication to your lordship, and in direct opposition to an instruction that must have then reached him, and that forcibly warned him of the con- sequences.' — Report, p. 71. It is the fashion very much among the tories of the House of Commons, and all those who love the effects of public liberty, without knowing or caring how it is preserved, to attack every person who complains of abuses, and to accuse him of gross exaggeration. No sooner is the name of any public thief, or of any tor- mentor, or oppressor, mentioned in that honourable house, than out bursts the spirit of jobbing eulogium, and there is not a virtue under heaven which is not as- cribed to the delinquent in question, and vouched for by the most irrefragable testimony. If Mr. Bennet or Sir Francis Burdett had attacked them, and they had now been living, how many honourable members would have vouched for the honesty of Dudley and Empson, the gentleness of Jeffries, or the genius of Blackmore ? What human virtue did not Aris and the governor of II- chester gaol possess ? Who was not ready to come forward to vouch for the attentive humanity of Gover- nor Macquarrie ? What scorn and wit would it have produced from the treasury bench, if Mr. Bennet had stated the superior advantages of the horses over the convicts ? — and all the horrors and immoralities, the filth and wretchedness, of the female prison of Para- matta? Such a case, proved, as this now is beyond the power of contradiction, ought to convince the most hardy and profligate scoffers, that there is really a great deal of occasional neglect, and oppression in the conduct of public servants ; and that in spite of all the official praise, which is ever ready for the perpe- trators of crime, there is a great deal of real malver- sation which should be dragged to the light of day, by the exertions of bold and virtuous men. If we had found, from the report of Mr. Bigge, that the charges of Mr. Bennet were without any, or without adequate foundation, it would have given us great pleasure to have vindicated the governor ; but Mr. Bennet has proved his indictment. It is impossible to read the foregoing quotation, and not to perceive, that the con- duct and proceedings of Governor Macquarrie imperi- ously required the exposure they have received ; and that it would have been much to the credit of govern- BOTANY BAY. 127 ment if he had been removed long ago from a situation which, but for the exertions of Mr. Bennet, we believe, he would have held to this day. The sick, from Mr. Bigge's report, appear to have fared as badly as the sinful. Good water was scarce, proper persons to wait upon the patients could not be obtained ; and so numerous were the complaints from this quarter, that the governor makes an order for the exclusion of all hospital grievances and complaints, except on one day in the month — dropsy swelling, how- ever, fever burning, and ague shaking, in the mean time, without waiting for the arrangements of Gover- nor Macquarrie, or consulting the Mollia tempora fandi. In permittiug individuals to distil their own grain, the government of Botany Bay appears to us to be quite right. It is impossible, in such a colony, to prevent unlawful distillation to a considerable extent ; and it is as well to raise upon spirits (as something must be taxed) that slight duty which renders the con- traband trade not worth following. Distillation, too, always insures a magazine against famine, by which New South Wales has more than once been severely visited. It opens a market for grain where markets are very distant, and where redundance and famine seem very often to succeed each other. The cheap- ness of spirits, to such working people as know how to use them with moderation, is a great blessing ; and we doubt whether that moderation, after the first burst of ebriety, is not just as likely to be learnt in plenty, as in scarcity. We were a little surprised at the scanty limits al- lowed to convicts for sleeping on board the transports. Mr. Bigge, (of whose sense and humanity we really have not the slightest doubt) states eighteen inches to be quite sufficient — twice the length of a small sheet of letter-paper. The printer's devil, who carries our works to the press, informs us, that the allowance to the demons of the type is double foolscap length, or twenty-four inches. The great city upholsterers ge- nerally consider six feet as barely sufficient for a per- son just rising in business, and assisting occasionally at official banquets. Mrs. Fry's* system is well spoken of by Mr. Bigge ; and its useful effect in promoting order and decency among floating convicts fully admitted. In a voyage to Botany Bay by Mr. Read, he states that, while the convict vessel lay at anchor, about to sail, a boat from shore reached the ship, and from it stepped a clerk of the Bank of England. The convicts felicitated themselves upon the acquisition of so gen- tlemanlike a companion ; but it soon turned out that the visitant had no intention of making so long a voy- age. Finding that they were not to have the pleasure of his company, the convicts very naturally thought of picking his pockets; the necessity of which profes- sional measure was prevented by a speedy distribution of their contents. Forth from his bill-case, this votary of Plutus drew his nitid Newlands; all the forgers and utterers were mustered on deck ; and to each of them was well and truly paid into his hand, a five pound note ; less acceptable, perhaps, than if privately re- moved from the person, but still joyfully received. This was well intended on the part of the directors ; but the consequences it is scarcely necessary to enu- merate ; a large stock of rum was immediately laid in from the circumambient slop boats ; and the mate- * We are sorry that it should have been imagined, from some of our late observations on prison discipline, that we meant to disparage the exertions of Mrs. Fry. For prisoners before trial, it is perfect ; but where imprisonment is intended for punishment, and not for detention, it requires, as we have endeavoured to show, a very different system. The Prison Society (an excellent, honourable, and most useful institution of some of the best men in England,) have certainly, in their first numbers, fallen into the common mistake of supposing that the reformation of the culprit, and got the prevention of the crime, was the main object of imprisonment ; and have, in consequence, taken 6ome false views of the method of treating prisoners — the exposition of which, after the usual manner of flesh and blood, makes them a little angry. But, in objects of so high a nature, what matters who is right ?— the only ques- tion is, what is right ? rials of constant intoxication secured for the rest of the voyage. The following account of pastoral convicts is strik- ing and picturesque-: — 'I observed that a great many of the convicts in Van Die- men's Land wore jackets and trowsers of the kangaroo skin, and sometimes caps of the same material, which they obtain from the stock -keepers who are employed in the interior of the country. The labour of several of them differs, in this respect, from the convicts in New South Wales, and is rather personal than agricultural. Permission having been given, for the last five years, to the settlers to avail themselves of the ranges of open plains and valleys that lie on either side of the road leading from Austin's Ferry to Launceston, a distance of 120 miles, their flocks and herds have been committed to the care of convict shepherds and stock-keepers, who are sent to these cattle-ranges, distant sometimes 30 or 40 miles from their masters' estates. ' The boundaries of these tracts are described in the tickets of occupation by which they are held, and which are made renewable every year, on payment of a fee to the lieuteuant- governor's clerk. One or more convicts are stationed on them, to attend to the flocks and cattle, and are supplied with wheat, tea, and sugar, at the monthly visits of the owner. They are allowed the use of a musket and a few cartridges to defend themselves against the natives ; and they have also dogs, with which they hunt the kangaroos, whose flesh they eat, and dispose of their skins to persons passing from Hob art Town to Launceston, in exchange for tea and sugar. Thus they obtain a plentiful supply of food and sometimes succeed in cultivating a few vegetables. Their habitations are made of turf and thatched, as the bark of the dwarf eucalyptus, or gum-trees of the plains, and the interior, in Van Diemen's Laud, is not of sufficient expanse to form covering or shelter.' —Report, pp. 107, 108. A London thief, clothed in kangaroo's skins, lodged under the bark of the dwarf eucalyptus, and keeping sheep, fourteen thousand miles from Piccadilly, with a crook bent into the shape of a picklock, is not an uninteresting picture ; and an engraving of it might have a very salutary effect — provided no engraving were made of his convict master, to whom the sheep belong. The Maroon Indians were hunted by dogs — the fu- gitive convicts are recovered by the natives. ' The native blacks that inhabit the neighbourhood of Port Hunter and Port Stephens have become very active in reta- king the fugitive convicts. They accompany the soldiers who are sent in pursuit, and, by the extraordinary strength ef sight they possess, improved by their daily exercise of it in pursuit of kangaroos and opossums, they can trace to a great distance, with wonderful accuracy, the impressions of the human foot. Nor are they afraid of meeting the fugitive convicts in the woods, when sent in their pursuit, without the soldiers ; by their skill in throwing their long and pointed wooden darts, they wound and disable them, strip them of their clothes, and bring them back as prisoners, by unknown roads and paths, to the Coal river. ' They are rewarded for these enterprizes by presents of maize and blankets ; and, notwithstanding the apprehensions of revenge from the convicts whom they bring back, they con- tinue to live in Newcastle and its neighbourhood ; but are observed to prefer the society of the soldiers to that of the convicts.' — Report, p. 117. Of the convicts in New South Wales, Mr. Bigge found about eight or nine in an hundred to be persons of respectable character and conduct, though the evi- dence respecting them is not quite satisfactory. But the most striking and consolatory passage in the whole report is the following : — ' The marriages of the native-born youths with female con- victs are very rare — a circumstance that is attributable to the general disinclination to early marriage that is observable amongst them, and partly to the abandoned and dissolute habits of the female convicts ; but chiefly to a sense of pride in the native-born youths, approaching to contempt for the vices and depravity of the convicts, even when manifested in the persons of thrir own parents.' — Report, p. 105. Every thing is to be expected from these feelings. They convey to the mother-country the first proof that the foundations of a mighty empire are laid. We were somewhat surprised to find Governor Mac- quarrie contending with Mr. Bigge, that it was no part of his, the governor's duty, to select and sepa- rate the useless from the useful convicts, or to deter- mine, except in particular cases, to whom they are to 128 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. be assigned. In other words, he wishes to effect the customary separation of salary and duty— the grand principle which appears to pervade all human institu- tions, and to be the most invincible of human abuses. Not only are church, king, and state, allured by this principle of vicarious labour, but the pot-boy has a lower pot-boy, who, for a small portion of his princi- pal, arranges, with inexhaustible sedulity, the subdi- vided portions of drink, and, intensely perspiring, dis- perses, in bright pewter, the frothy elements of joy. There is a very awkward story of a severe flogging inflicted upon three freemen by Governor Macquarrie, without complaint to, or intervention of, any magis- trate ; a fact not denied by the governor, and for which no adequate apology, nor any thing approach- ing to an adequate apology, is offered. These Asiatic and Satrapical proceedings, however, we have reason to think, are exceedingly disrelished by London juries. The profits of having been unjustly flogged at Botany Bay (Scarlett for the plaintiff) is good property, and would fetch a very considerable sum at the auction mart. The governor, in many instances, appears to have confounded diversity of opinion upon particular measures, with systematic opposition to his govern- ment, and to have treated as disaffected persons those whom, in favourite measures, he could not persuade by his arguments, nor influence by his -example, and on points where every man has a right to judge for himself, and where authority has no legitimate right to interfere, much less to dictate. To the charges confirmed by the statement of Mr. Bigge, Mr. Bennet adds, from the evidence collected by the gaol committee, that the fees in the governor's court, collected by the authority of the governor, are most exorbitant and oppressive ; and that illegal taxes are collected under the sole authority of the governor. It has loeea made, by colonial regulations, a capital offence to steal the wild cattle; and, in 1816, three persons were convicted of stealing a wild bull, the property of our sovereign lord the king. Now, our sove- reign lord the king (whatever be his other merits or demerits) is certainly a very good-natured man, and would be the first to lament that an unhappy convict was sentenced to death for killing one of his wild bulls on the other side of the world. The cases of Mr. Moore, and of William Stewart, as quoted by Mr. Bennet, are very strong. If they are. answerable, they should be answered. The concluding letter to Mr. Stewart is, to us, the most decisive proof of the unfitness of Colo- nel Macquarrie for the situation in which he was placed. The ministry at home, after the authenticity of the letter was proved, should have seized upon the first decent pretext of recalling the governor, of thank- ing him, in the name of his sovereign, for his valuable services (not omitting his care of the wild bulls,) and of dismissing him to half pay — and insignificance. As to the trial by jury, we cannot agree with Mr. Bennet, that it would be right to introduce it at pre- sent, for reasons we have given in a previous article, and which we see no reason for altering. The time of course will come, when it would be in the highest de- gree unjust and absurd to refuse to that settlement the benefit of popular institutions. But they are too young, too few, and too deficient for such civilized machinery at present. ' I cannot come to serve upon the jury — the waters of the Hawksbury are out, and I have a mile to swim — the kangaroos will break into my corn — the convicts have robbed me — my little boy has been bitten by an ornithorynchus paradoxus — I have sent a man fifty miles with a sack of flour to buy d pair of breeches for the assizes, and he has not re- turned.' These are the excuses, which, in new colo- nies, always prevent trial by jury ; and make it de- sirable for the first half century of their existence, that they should live under the simplicity and conve- nience of such modified despotism (we mean) as a British House of Commons, (always containing men as bold and honest as the member for Shrewsbury) will permit, in the governors of their distant colonies. Such are the opinions formed of the conduct of Go- vernor Macquarrie by Mr. Bigge. Not the slightest in- sinuation is made against the integrity of his charac- ter. Though almost every body else has a job, we do not perceive that any is imputed to this gentleman ; but he is negligent, expensive, arbitrary, ignorant, and clearly deficient in abilities for the task committed to his charge. It is our decided opinion, therefore, that Mr. Bennet has rendered a valuable service to the public, in attacking and exposing his conduct. As a gentleman and an honest man, there is not the small- est charge against the governor ; but a gentleman and a very honest man, may very easily ruin a very fine colony. The colony itself, disencumbered of Colonel Lachlan Macquarrie, will probably become a very fine empire ; but we can scarcely believe it is of any pre- sent utility as a place of punishment. The history of emancipated convicts, who have made a great deal of money by their industry and their speculations, neces- sarily reaches this country, and prevents men who are goaded by want, and hovering between vice and virtue, from looking upon it as a place of suffering— perhaps leads them to consider it as the land of hope and refuge, to them unattainable, except by the com- mission of crime. And so they lift up their heads at the bar, hoping to be transported — « Stabant orantes primi transmittere cursum Tendebaritque manus, ripse ulteroris amore.' It is not possible, ki the present state of the law, that these enticing histories of convict prosperity should be prevented, by one uniform system of seven- ty exercised in New South Wales, upon all transported persons. Such different degrees of guilt are included under the term of convict, that it would violate every feeling of humanity, and every principle of justice, to deal out one measure of punishment to all. We strong- ly suspect that this is the root of the evil. We want new gradations of guilt to be established by law — new names for those gradations — aud a different measure of good and evil treatment attached to those denomi- nations. In this manner, the mere convict, the rogue and convict, and the incorrigible convict, would expect, upon their landing, to be treated with very different degrees of severity. The first might be merely de- tained in New South Wales »without labour or coer- cion ; the second compelled, at all events, to work out two-thirds of his time, without the possibility of re- mission : and the third be destined at once for the Coal River.* If these consequences steadily followed these gradations of conviction, they would soon he un- derstood by the felonious world at home. At present, the prosperity of the best convicts is considered to be attainable by all ; and transportation to another hemi- sphere is looked upon as the renovation of fallen for- tunes, and the passport to wealth and power. Another circumstance, which destroys all idea of punishment in transportation to New South Wales, is the enormous expense which that settlement would occasion, if it really was made a place of punishment. A little wicked tailor arrives, of no use to the archi- tectural projects of the governor. He is turned over to a settler, who leases this sartorial Borgia his liber, ty for five shillings per week, and allows him to steal i and snip, what, when, and where he can. The excuse for all this mockery of law and justice is, that the ex- pense of his maintenance is saved to the government at home. But the expense is not saved to the country at large. The nefarious needleman writes home that he is as comfortable as a finger in a thimble ! that though a fraction only of a humanity, he has several wives, and is filled every day with rum and kangaroo. This, of course, is not lost upon the shop-board; and, for the saving of fifteen pence per day, the foundation i for many criminal tailors is laid. What is true of tai- • lors, is true of tinkers, and all other trades. The chances of escape from labour, and of manumission in l the Bay, we may depend upon it, are accurately re- ported, and perfectly understood in the flash-houses of St. Giles : and, while Earl Bathurst is full of jokes and joy, public morals are sapped to their foundation. * This practice is now resorted to. GAME LAWS. 129 GAME LAWS. (Edinburgh Review, 1823.) A Letter to the Chairman of the Committee of the House of Commons, on the Game Laws. By the Hon and Rev. Wil- liam Herbert. Ridgway, 1823. About the time of the publication of this little phamphlet of Mr. Herbert, a committee of the House of Commons published a Report on the Game Laws, containing a great deal of very curious information respecting the sale of game, an epitome of which we shall now lay before our readers. The country hig- glers who collect poultry, gather up the game from the depots of the poachers, and transmit it in the same manner as poultry, and in the same packages, to the London poulterers, by whom it is distributed to the public ; and this traffic is carried on (as far as game is concerned) even from the distance of Scotland. — The same business is carried on by the porters of stage coaches ; and a great deal of game is sold clan- destinely by lords of manors, or by gamekeepers, without the knowledge of lords of manors ; and prin- cipally, as the evidence states, from Norfolk and Suf- folk, the great schools of steel traps and spring guns. The supply of game, too, is proved to be quite as reg- ular as the supply of poultry ; the number of hares and partridges supplied rather exceeds that of pheas- ants ; but any description of game may be had to any amount. Here is part of the evidence. 'Can you at any time procure any quantity of game ? I have no doubt of it.— If you were to receive almost an un- -imited order, could you execute it? Yes, I would supply the whole city of London, any fixed day once a week, all the year through, so that every individual inhabitant should have game for his table. — Do you think you could procure a thousand pheasants ? Yes; I would be bound to produce ten thousand a week. — You would be bound to provide every family in London with a dish of game ? Yes ; a partridge, or a pheasant, or a hare, or a grouse, or something or other. How would you set about doing it ? I should, of course, request the persons with whom I am in the habit of dealing, to use their influence to bring me what they could by a cer- tain day; I should speak to the dealers and the mail-guards, and coachmen, to produce a quantity ; and I should send to my own connections in one or two manors where I have the privilege of selling for those gentlemen ; and should send to Scotland to say, that every week the largest quantity they could produce was to be sent. Being but a petty sales- man, I sell a very small quantity; but I have had about 4000 head direct from one man. — Can you state the quantity of game which has been sent to you during the year ? No ; I may say, perhaps, 10,000 head; mine is a limited trade; I speak comparatively to that of others ; I only supply pri- vate families.'— Report, p. 20. Poachers who go out at night eannot, of course, like regular tradesmen, proportion the supply to the de- mand, but having once made a contract, they kill all they can ; and hence it happens that the game market is sometimes very much overstocked, and great quan- tities of game either thrown away, or disposed of by Irish hawkers to the common people at very inferior prices. 'Does it ever happen to you to be obliged to dispose of poultry at the same low prices you are obliged to dispose of game? It depends upon the weather; often, when there is a considerable quantity on hand, and owing to the weather, it will not keep till the following day, I am obliged to take any price that is offered; but we can always turn either poultry or game into some price or other; and if it was not for the Irish hawkers, hundreds and hundreds of heads of game would be spoiled and thrown away. It is out of the power of any person to conceive for one moment the quan- tity of game that is hawked in the streets. I have had opportunity more than other persons of knowing this ; for I have sold, I may say, more game than any other person in the city; and we serve hawkers indiscriminately, persons who come and purchase probably six fowls or turkeys and geese, and they will buy heads of game with them.'— Re- port, p. 22. Live birds are sent up as well as dead; eggs as well as birds. The price of pheasants' eggs last year was 8s. per dozen ; of partridges' eggs, 2s. The price of hares was from 3s. to 3s. 6d. ; of partridges, from Is. 6d. to 2s. 6d. ; of pheasants, from 5s. to 5s. 6d. each, and sometimes as low as Is. 6d. What have you given for game this year ? It is very low Indeed I am sick of it ; I do not think I shall ever deal again. We have got game this season as low as yialf-a. crown a brace (birds), and pheasant as low as Is. a Drace. It is so plentiful, there has been no end to spoiling it this season. It is so plentiful, it is of no use. In war time it is worth having ; then they fetched 7a. and 8s. a brace.'— Re port, p. S3. All the poulterers, too, even the most respectable state, that it is absolutely necessary they should carry on this illegal traffic in the present state of the game laws ; because their regular customers for poultry would infallibly leave any poulterer's shop from whence they could not be supplied with game. ' I have no doubt that it is the general wish at present of the trade not to deal in the article; but they are all, of course, compelled from their connections. If they cannot get game from one person, they can from another. * Do you believe tnat poulterers are not to be found who would take out licenses, and would deal with those very persons, for the purposes of obtaining a greater profit than they would have dealing as you would do ? I think the poulterers in general are a respectable set of men, and would not countenance such a thing ; they feel now that they are driven into a corner ; that there may be men who would countenance irregular proceedings, I have no doubt. — Would it be their interest to do so, considering the penal- ty ? No, I think not. The poulterers are perfectly well aware that they are committing a breach of the law at pre- sent. — Do you suppose that those persons, respectable as they are, who are now committing a breach of the law, would not equally commit that breach if the law were al- tered ? No, certainly not ; at present it is so connected with their business that they cannot help it. — You said just now, that they were driven into a corner ; what did you mean by that ? We are obliged to aid and abet those men who commit those depredations, because of the constant de- mand for game, from different customers whom we supply with poultry. — Could you carry on your business as a poul- terer, if you refused to supply game ? By no means ; be- cause some of the first people in the land require it of me.' — Report, p. IS. When that worthy errorist, Mr. Bankes, brought in his bill of additional severities against poachers, there was no man of sense and reflection who did not anticipate the following consequences of the measure. ' Do you find that less game has been sold in consequence of the bill rendering it penal to sell game ? Upon my word, it did not make the slightest difference in the world.— Not immediately after it was made? No; I do not think it made the slightest difference. — It did not make the slightest sensation ? No, I never sold a bird less. — Was not there a resolution of the poulterers not to sell game ? I was secre- tary to that committee. — What was the consequence of that resolution ? A great deal of ill blood in the trade. One gentleman who just left the room did not come into my ideas. I never had a head of game in my house ; all my neighbours sold it ; and as we had people on the watch, who were ready to watch it into the houses, it came to this, we were prepared to bring our actions against certain indi- viduals, after sitting, perhaps, from three to four months every week, which we did at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand, but we did not proceed with our actions, to prevent ill blood in the trade. We regulariy met, and, as we con- ceived at the time, formed a committee of the most respect- able of the trade. I was secretary of that committee. The game was sold in the city, in the vicinity of the Royal Ex- change, cheaper than ever was known, because the people at our end of the town were afraid. I, as a point of hon- our, never had it in my house. I never had a head of dame in my house that season. — What was the conse- quence ? I lost my trade, and gave offence to a gentleman ; a nobleman's steward, or butler, or cook, treated it as con- tumely ; " Good God, what is the use of your running your head against the wall ?" — You were obliged to begin the trade ag?>in ? Yes, and sold more than ever. — Report, p. 18. These consequences are confirmed by the evidence of q t . ery person before the committee. All the evidence is very strong as to the fact, that dealing in game is not discreditable ; that there are a great number of respectable persons, and, among the rest, the first poulterers in London, who buy game knowing it to have been illegally procured, but who would never dream of purchasing any other article procured by dishonesty. 'Are there not, to your knowledge, a great many people in this town who deal in game, by buying or selling it, that would not on any account buy or sell stolen property ? — Certainly ; there are many capital tradesmen, poulterers, who deal in game, that would have nothing to do with at olea 30 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. property ; and yet I do not think there is a poulterer's shop in London where they could not get game, if they wanted it. — Do you think any discredit attaches to any man in this town for buying or selling game ? I think none at all : and I do not think that the men to whom I have just referred, would have any thing to do with stolen goods. — Would it not, in the opinion of the inhabitants of London, be con- sidered a very different thing dealing in stolen game, or sto- len poultry ? Certainly. — The one would be considered dis- graceful, and the other not ? Certainly ; they think nothing of dealing in game ; and the farmers in the country will not give information ; they will have a hare or two of the very men who work for them, and they are afraid to give us in- formation. — Report, p. 31. The evidence of Daniel Bishop, one of the Bow street officers, who has been a good deal employed in the apprehension of poachers, is curious and impor- tant, as it shows the enormous extent of the evil, and the ferocious spirit which the game laws engender in the common people. ' The poachers,' he says, 1 came sixteen miles. The whole of the village from which they were taken were poachers ; the constable of the village, and the shoemaker, and other inhabi- tant* of the village. I fetched one man twenty-two miles. There was the son of a respectable gardener ; one of these was a sawyer, and another a baker, who kept a good shop there. If the village had been alarmed, we should have had some mischief; but we were all prepared with fire-arms. If poachers have a spite with the gamekeeper, that would induce them to go out in numbers to resist him. This party I speak of had something in their hats to distinguish them. They take a delight in setting to with the gamekeepers ; and talk it over afterwards how they served so and so. They fought with the butt-ends of their guns at Lord Howe's; they beat the game- keepers shockingly.' ' Does it occur to you (Bishop is asked) to have had more applications, and to have detected more persons this season than in any former one? Yes: I think within four months there have been twenty-one transported that I have been at the taking of, and through one man turning evidence in each case, and without that they could not have been identified ; the gamekeepers could not, or would not, identify them. The poachers go to the public house and spend their money ; if they have a good night's work, they will go and get drunk with the money. The gangs are connected together at different public houses, just like a club at a public house ; they are sworn together. If the keeper took one of them, they would go and attack him for so doing.' Mr. Stafford, chief clerk of Bow Street, says, < All the offences against the game laws which are of an atrocious description I think are generally reported to the public office in Bow Street, more especially in ca- ses where the keepers have either been killed, or dan- gerously wounded, and the assistance of an officer from Bow Street is required. The applications have been much more numerous of late years* than they were formerly. Some of them have been cases of murder ; but I do not think many have amounted to murder. There are many instances in which keepers have been very ill treated — they have been wounded, skulls have been fractured, and bones broken; and they have been shot at. A man takes an hare, or a pheasant, with a very different feeling from that with which he would take a pigeon or a fowl out of a farm- yard. The number of persons that assembled togeth- er is more for the purpose of protecting themselves against those that may apprehend them, than from any idea that they are actually committing depreda- tion upon the property of another person ; they do not consider it as property. I think there is a sense of morality and a distinction of crime existing in the men's minds, although they are mistaken about it. Men feel that if they go in a great body together, to * It is only of late years that men have been transported for shooting at night. There are instances of men who have been transported at the Sessions for night poaching, who made no resistance at all when taken ; but then their characters as old poachers weighed against them— characters estimated probably by the very lords of manors who had lo6t their game. This disgraceful law is the occasion of all the murders committed for game. break into a house, or to rob a person, or to steal his poultry, or his sheep, they are committing a crime against that man's property ; but I think with respect to the game, they do not feel that they are doing any thing which is wrong ; but think they have commit- ted no crime when they have done the thing, and their only anxiety is to escape detection ' In addition, Mr. Stafford states that he remembers not one single con- viction under Mr. Bankes's Act against buying game ; and not one conviction for buying or selling game within the last year has been made at Bow Street. The inferences from these facts are exactly as we predicted, and as every man of common sense must have predicted — that to prevent the sale of game is ab solutely impossible. If game is plentiful, and cannot be obtained at any lawful market, an illicit trade will be established, which it is utterly impossible to pre- vent by any increased severity of the laws. There never was a more striking illustration of the necessity of attending to public opinion in all penal enactments. Mr. Bankes (a perfect representation of all the ordina- ry notions about forcing mankind by pains and penal- ties) took the floor. To buy a partridge (though still considered as inferior to murder) was visited with the very heaviest infliction of the law ; and yet, though game is sold as openly in London as apples and oran- ges, though three years have elapsed since this legi- slative mistake, the officers can hardly recollect a single instance where the information has been laid, or the penalty levied : and why? because every man's feelings and every man's understanding tell him, that it is a most absurd and ridiculous tyranny to prevent one man, who has more game than he wants, from ex- changing it with another man, who has more money than he wants — because magistrates will not (if they can avoid it) inflict such absurd penalties — because even common informers know enough of the honest indignation of mankind, and are too well aware of the coldness of pump and pond to act under the bill of the Lycurgus of Corfe Castle. The plan now proposed is, to undersell the poacher, which may be successful or unsuccessful; but the threat is, if you attempt this plan there will be no game — and if there is no game there will be no coun- try gentlemen. We deny every part of this enthy- meme — the last proposition as well as the first. We really cannot believe that all our rural mansions would be deserted, although no game was to be found in their neighbourhood. Some come into the country for health, some for quiet, for agriculture, for economy, from attachment to family estates, from love of re- tirement, from the necessity of keeping up provincial interests, and from a vast variety of causes. Patridg- es and pheasants, though they form nine-tenths of hu- man motives, still leave a small residue, which may be classed under some other head. Neither is a great proportion of those whom the love of shooting brings into the country of the smallest value or importance to the country. A colonel of the Guards, the second son just entered at Oxford, three diners out from Piccadilly — Major Rock, Lord John, Lord Charles, the colonel of the regiment quartered at the neigh- bouring town, two Irish peers, and a German baron ; — if all this honourable company proceed with fustian jackets, dog- whistles, and chemical inventions, to a solemn destruction of pheasants, how is the country benefited by their presence? or how would earth, air, or sea, be injured by their annihilation ? There are certainly many valuable men brought into the country by a love of shooting, who, coming there for that pur- pose, are useful for many better purposes ; but a vast I multitude of shooters are of no more service to the country than the ramrod which condenses the charge, or the barrel which contains it. We do not deny that the annihilation of the game laws would thin the aris- tocratical population of the country ; but it would not thin that population so much as is contended ; and the loss of many of the persons so banished would be a good rather than a misfortune. At all events, we cannot at all comprehend the policy of alluring the bet- ter classes of society into the country, by the tempta- tion of petty tyranny and injustice, or of monopoly ini sports. How absurd it would be to offer to the higher GAME LAWS. 13i orders the exclusive use of peaches, nectarines, and apricots, as the premium of rustication — to put vast quantities of men into prison as apricot eaters, apricot buyers, and apricot sellers — to appoint a regular day for beginning to eat, and another for leaving off — to lave a lord of the manor for green gages — and to rage with a penalty of five pounds against the unqualified eater of the gage ! And yet the privilege of shooting a set of wild poultry is stated to be the bonus for the residence of country gentlemen. As far as this im- mense advantage can be obtained without the sacrifice of justice and reason, well and good — but we would not oppress any order of society, or violate right and wrong, to obtain any population of squires, however dense. The law is absurd and unjust ; but it must not be altered, because the alteration would drive men out of the country ! If gentlemen cannot breathe fresh air without injustice, let them putrefy in Cran- borne Alley. Make just laws, and let squires live and die where they please. The evidence collected in the House of Commons respecting the Game Laws is so striking and so deci- sive against the gentlemen of the trigger, that their only resource is to represent it as not worthy of belief. But why not worthy of belief? It is not stated what part of it is incredible. Is it the plenty of game in London for sale ? the unfrequency of convictions ? the occasional but frequent excess of supply above de- mand in an article supplied by stealing ? or its de- struction when the sale is not without risk, and the price extremely low? or the readiness of grandees to turn the excess of their game into fish or poultry? All these circumstances appear to us so natural and so likely, that we should, without any evidence, have but little doubt of their existence. There are a few absurdities in the evidence of one of the poulterers ; but, with this exception, we see no reason whatever for impugning the credibility and exactness of the mass of testimony prepared by the committee It is utterly impossible to teach the common people to respect property in animals bred the possessor knows not where — which he cannot recognise by any mark, which may leave him the next moment, which are kept, not for profit, but for amusement. Opinion never will be in favour of such property ; if the animus fur audi exists, the propensity will be gratified by poaching. It is in vain to increase the severity of the protecting laws. They make the case weaker, in- stead of stronger ; and are more resisted and worse executed, exactly in proportion as they are contrary to public opinion : — the case of the game laws is a me- morable lesson upon the philosophy of legislation. If a certain degree of punishment does not cure the of- fence, it is supposed, by the Bankes' School, that there is nothing to be done but to multiply this pun- ishment by two, and then again and again, till the ob- ject is accomplished. The efficient maximum of pun- ishment, however, is not what the legislature chooses to enact, but what the great mass of mankind think the maximum ought to be. The moment the punishment passes this Rubicon, it becomes less and less, instead of greater and greater. Juries and magistrates will not commit — informers* are afraid of public indigna- tion — poachers will not submit to be sent to Botany Bay without a battle— blood is shed for pheasants — the public attention is called to this preposterous state of the law — and even ministers — (whom nothing {>esters so much as the interests of humanity) are at east compelled to come forward and do what is right. Apply this to the game laws. It was before penal to sell game : within these few years, it has been made penal to buy it. From the scandalous cruelty of the law, night poachers are transported for seven years. * There is a remarkable instance of this in the new Turn- pike Act. The penalty for taking more than the legal num- ber of outside passengers is ten pounds per head, if the coach- man is in part or wholly the owner. This will rarely be levi- ed ; because it is too much. A penalty of 100Z. would produce perfect impunity. The maximum of practical severity would have been about five pounds. Any magistrate would cheer- fully levy this sum ; while doubling it will produce reluctance in the judge, resistance in the culprit, and unwillingness in the informer. And yet, never was so much game sold, or such a spi- rit of ferocious resistance excited to the laws. One fourth of all the commitments in Great Britain are for offences against the game laws. There is a general feeling that some alteration must take place — a feel- ing not only among Reviewers, who never see nor eat game, but among the double-barrelled, shot-belted members of the House of Commons, who are either alarmed or disgusted by the vice and misery which their cruel laws and childish passion for amusement are spreading among the lower orders of mankind. It is said, < In spite of all the game sold, there is game enough left ; let the laws therefore remain as they are ;' and so it was said formerly, ' There is su- gar enough ; let the slave trade remain as it is.' But at what expense of human happiness is this quantity of game or of sugar, and this state of poacher law and slave law, to remain 7 The first object of a good go- vernment is not that rich men should have their plea- sures in perfection, but that all orders of men should be good and happy ; and if crowded covies and chuck- ling cock-pheasants are only to be procured by encour- aging the common people in vice, and leading them into cruel and disproportionate punishment, it is the duty of the government to restrain the cruelties which the country members, in reward for their assiduous loyalty, have been allowed to introduce into the game laws. • The plan of the new bill (long since anticipated, in all its provisions, by the acute author of the pamphlet before us,) is, that the public at large should be sup- plied by persons licensed by magistrates, and that all qualified persons should be permitted to sell their game to these licensed distributors ; and there seems a fair chance that such a plan would succeed. The questions are, Would sufficient game come into the hands of the licensed salesman ? Would the licensed salesman con- fine himself to the purchase of game from qualified per- sons ? Would buyers of game purchase elsewhere than from the licensed salesman ? Would the poacher be un- dersold by the honest dealer ? Would game remain in the same plenty as before ? It is understood that the game laws are to remain as they are ; with this only difference, that the qualified man can sell to the li- censed man, and the licentiate to the public. It seems probable to us, that vast quantities of game would after a little time, find their way into the hands of licensed poulterers. Great people are often half eaten up by their establishments. The quantity of game killed in a large shooting party is very great ; to eat it is impossible, and to dispose of it in presents very troublesome. The preservation of game is very expensive ; and, when it could be bought, it would be no more a compliment to send it as a present than it would be to send geese and fowls. If game were sold, very large shooting establishments might be made to pay their own expenses. The shame is made by the law ; there is a disgrace in being detected and fined. If that barrier were removed, superfluous partridges would go to the poulterers as readily as superfluous venison does to the venison butcher — or as a gentle- man sells the corn and mutton off his farm which he cannot consume. For these reasons, we do not doubt that the shops of licensed poulterers would be full of game in the season ; and this part of the argument, we think, the arch enemy, Sir John Shelley, himself would concede to us. The next question is, From whence would they pro- cure it ? A license for selling game, granted by coun- try magistrates, would from their jealousy upon these subjects, be granted only to persons of some respecta- bility and property. The purchase of game from un- qualified persons would, of course, be guarded against by very heavy penalties, both personal and pecuniary ; and these penalties would be inflicted, because opinion would go with them. ' Here is a respectable trades- man,' it would be said, ' who might have bought as much game as he pleased in a lawful manner, but who in order to increase his profits by buying it a littb. cheaper, has encouraged a poacher to steal it.' Public opinion, therefore, would certainly be in favour of a. very strong punishment ; and a licensed vender of game, who exposed himself to these risks, would e» 132 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. pose himselt to the loss of liberty, property, character, and license. The persons interested to put a stop to such a practice, would not be the paid agents of go- vernment, as in cases of smuggling ; but all the gentle- men of the country, the customers of the tradesman for fish, poultry, or whatever else he dealt in, would have an interest in putting down the practice. In all probability, the practice would become disrepu- table, like the purchase of stolen poultry ; and this would be a stronger barrier than the strongest laws. A few shabby people would, for the chance of gaining sixpence, incur the risk of ruin and disgrace ; but it is probable that the general practice would be otherwise. For the same reasons, the consumers of game would rather give a little more for it to a licensed poulterer, than expose themselves to severe penalties by purcha- sing from a poacher. The great mass of London con- sumers are supplied now, not from shabby people, in whom they can have no confidence — not from hawkers and porters, but from respectable tradesmen, in whose probity they have the most perfect confidence. Men will brave the law for pheasants, bnt not for sixpence or a shilling ; and the law itself is much more difficult to be braved, when it allows pheasants to be bought at some price, than when it endeavours to render them utterly inaccessible to wealth. All the licensed sales- men, too, would have a direct interest in stopping the contraband trade of game. They would lose no cha- racter in doing so ; their informations would be rea- sonable and respectable. If all this is true, the poacher would have to com- pete with a great mass of game fairly and honestly poured into the market. He would be selling with a rope about his neck, to a person who bought with a rope about his neck ; his description of customers would be much the same as the customers for stolen poultry, and his profits would be very materially abridged. At present, the poacher is in the same situation as the smuggler would be, if rum and brandy could not be purchased of any fair trader. The great check to the profits of the smuggler are, that, if you want his commodities, and will pay an higher price, you may have them elsewhere without risk or dis- grace. But forbid the purchase of these luxuries at any price. Shut up the shop of the brandy merchant, and you render the trade of the smuggler of incalcu- able value. The object of the intended bill is, to raise up precisely the same competition to the trade of the poacher, by giving the public an opportunity of buy- ing lawfully and honestly the tempting articles in which he now deals exclusively. Such an improve- ment would not, perhaps, altogether annihilate his trade ; but it would, in all probability, act as a very material check upon it. The predominant argument against all this is, that the existing prohibition against buying game, though partially violated, does deter many persons from com- ing into the market ; that if this prohibition were re- moved, the demand for game woujd be increased, the legal supply would be insufficient, and the residue would, and must be, supplied by the poacher, whose trade would, for these reasons, be as lucrative and flourishing as before. But it is only a few years since the purchase of game has been made illegal ; and the market does not appear to have been at all narrowed by the prohibition ; not one head of game the less has been sold by the poulterers ; and scarcely one single conviction has taken place under that law. How, then, would the removal of the prohibition, and the alteration of the law, extend the market, and increase the demand, when the enactment of the prohibition has had no effect in narrowing it ? But if the demand increases, why not the legal supply also ? Game is "increased upon an estate by feeding them in winter, by making some abatement to the tenants for guard- ing against depredations, by a large apparatus of gamekeepers and spies — in short, by expense. But if this pleasure of shooting, so natural to country gentle- men, is made to pay its own expenses, by sending superfluous game to market, more men, it is reason- able to suppose, will thus preserve and augment their name. The love of pleasure and amusement will pro- duce in the owners of game that desire to multiply game, which the love of gain does in the farmer to multiply poultry. Many gentlemen of small fortune will remember, that they cannot enjoy to any extent this pleasure without this resource ; that the legal sale of poultry will discountenance poaching ; and they will open an account with the poulterer, not to get richer, but to enjoy a great pleasure without an expense, in which, upon other terms, they could not honourably and conscientiously indulge. If country gentlemen of moderate fortune will do this (and we think after a little time they will do it), game may be multiplied and legally supplied to any extent. Another keeper, and another bean-stack, will produce their proportionable supply of pheasants. The only reason why the great lord has more game per acre than the little squire is, that he spends more money per acre to preserve it. For these reasons, we think the experiment of lega- lizing the sale of game ought to be tried. The game laws have been carried to a pitch of oppression which is a disgrace to the country. The prisons are half filled with peasants, shut up for the irregular slaughter of rabbits and birds — a sufficient reason for killing a weasel, but not for imprisoning a man. Something should be done ; it is disgraceful to a government to stand by, and see such enormous evils without inter- ference. It is true, they are not connected with the struggles of party ; but still, the happiness of the common people, whatever gentlemen may say, ought every now and then to be considered. CRUEL TREATMENT OF UNTRIED PRISON- ERS. (Edinburgh Review, 1824.) 1. Letter to the Right Honourable Robert Peel, one of Hi# Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State, &fc. fyc. fyc. on Prison Labour. By John Headlam, M. A., Chairman of the Quarter Sessions for the North Riding of the County of York. London. Hatchard & Son, 1823. 2. Information and Observations, respecting- the proposed Improvements at York Castle. Printed by Order of the Committee of Magistrates. September, 1323. It has been the practice, all over England, for these last fifty years,* not to compel prisoners to work be- fore guilt was proved. Within these last three or four years, however, the magistrates of the North Riding of Yorkshire, considering it improper to support any idle person at the county expense, have resolved, that prisoners committed to the house of correction for trial, and requiring county support, should work for their livelihood ; and no sooner was the treadmill brought into fashion, than that machine was adopted in the North Riding as the species of labour by which such prisoners were to earn their maintenance. If these magistrates did not consider themselves empow- ered to burden the county rates for the support of pri- soners before trial, who would not contribute to support themselves, it does not appear, from the publication of the reverend chairman of the sessions, that any opinions of counsel were taken as to the legality of so putting prisoners to work, or of refusing them mainte- nance if they choose to be idle ; but the magistrates themselves decided that such was the law of the land. Thirty miles off, however, the law of the land was dif- ferently interpreted ; and in the Castle of York large sums were annually expended in the maintenance of idle prisoners before trial, and paid by the different Ridings, without remonstrance or resistance.! Such was the state of affairs in the county of York before the enactment of the recent prison bill. After that period, enlargements and alterations were neces- sary in the county jail ; and it was necessary also for these arrangements, that the magistrates should know whether or not they were authorized to maintain such * Headlam, p. 6. t We mention the cases of the North Riding, to convince our readers that the practice of condemning prisoners to work before trial has existed in some parts of England; for in ques- tions like this we have always found it more difficult to prove the existence of the facts, than to prove that they were mi* chievoue and unjust. CRUEL TRAETMENT OF UNTRIED PRISONERS. 133 prisoners at the expense of the county, as, being ac- counted able and unwilling to work, still claimed the county allowance To questions proposed upon these points to three barristers the following answers were returned : — *2dly, I am of opinion, that the magistrates are empowered, and are compelled to maintain, at the expense of the county, such prisoners before trial as are able to work, unable to main- tain themselves, and not willing to work ; and that they have not the power of compelling such prisoners to work, either at the treadmill, or any other species of labour. J. Gubney. ' Lincoln's Inn Fields, 2d Sejpfem&er,1823.' ' I think the magistrates are empowered, under the tenth section (explained by the 37th and 38th), to maintain prisoners before trial, who are able to work, unable to maintain them- selves by their own means, or by employment which they themselves can procure, and not willing to work ; and I think also, that the words " shall be lawful," in that section, do not leave them a discretion on the subject, but are compulsory. Such prisoners can only be employed in prison labour with their own consent; and it cannot be intended that the justices may force such consent, by withholding from them the neces- saries of life, if they do not give it. Even those who are con- victed cannot be employed at the treadmill, which I consider as a species of severe labour. J. Parke. ' September ith, 1823.' '2dly, As to the point of compelling prisoners confined on criminal charges, and receiving relief from the magistrates, to reasonable labour; to that of the treadmill for instance, in which, when properly conducted, there is nothing severe or unreasonable ; had the question arisen prior to the act, I should with confidence have said, I thought the magistrates had a compulsory power in this respect. Those who cannot live without relief in a jail, cannot live without labour out of it. Labour then is their avocation. Nothing is so injurious to the morals and habits of the prisoner as the indolence prevalent in prisons ; nothing so injurious to good order in the prison. The analogy between this and other cases of public support is ex- ceedingly strong ; one may almost consider it a general prin- ciple, that those who live at the charge of the community shall, as far as they are able, give the community a compensation through their labor. But the question does not depend on mere abstract reasoning. The stat. 19 Ch. 2, c. 4, sec. 1, enti- tled "An act for Relief of poor Prisoners, and setting them on work," speaks of persons committed for felony and other mis- demeanours to the common jail, who many times perish before trial; and then proceeds as to setting poor prisoners on work. Then stat. 31 G. 3, c. 46, sec. 13, orders money to be raised for such prisoners of every description, as being confined within the said jails, or other places of confinement, are not able to work. A late stat. (52 G. 2, c. 160) orders parish relief to such debtors on mesne process in jails not county jails, as are not able to support themselves; but says nothing of finding or compelling work. Could it be doubted, that if the justices were to provide work, and the prisoner refused it, such debtors might, like any other parish paupers, be refused the relief mentioned by the statute 1 In all the above cases, the authority to insist on the prisoner's labour, as the condition and consideration of relief granted him, is, I think, either expressed or necessarily implied; and thus, viewing the subject, I think it was in the power of magistrates, prior to the late statute, to compel prisoners, subsisting in all or in part on public relief, to work at the treadmill. The objection commonly made is, that prisoners, prior to trial, are to be accounted innocent, and to be detained, merely that they may be secured for trial : to this the answer is obvious, that the labour is neither meant as a punish- ment or a disgrace, but simply as a compensation for the relief, at their own request, afforded them. Under the present statute, I, however, have no doubt, that poor prisoners are entitled to public support, and that there can be no compulsory labour prior to trial. The two statutes adverted to (19 Ch. 2, c. 4, and 31 G. 3) are, as far as the subject is concerned, expressly repealed. The legislature then had in contemplation the existing power of magistrates to order labour before trial, and having it in contemplation, repeals it ; substituting (sec. 38) a power of setting to labour, only sentenced persons. The 13th rule, too, (p. 177) speaks of labour as connected with convicted prisoners, and sec. 37 speaks in general terms of persons com- mitted for trial, as labouring with their own consent. In op- position to these clauses, I think it impossible to speak of im- plied power, or power founded on general reasoning or ana- logy. So strong, however, are the arguments in favour of a more extended authority in justices of the peace, that it is scarcely to be doubted, that Parliament, on a calm revision of the subject, would be willing to restore, in a more distinct manner than it has hitherto been enacted, a general discretion on the subject. Were this done, there is one observation I will venture to make, which is, that should some unfortunate asso- ciation of ideas render the treadmill a matter of ignominy to common feelings, an enlightened magistracy would scarcely compel an untried prisoner to a species of labour which would disgrace him in his own mind, and in that of the public « York, August 21th, 1823.' S. W. Nicoll. In consequence, we believe, of these opinions, the North Riding magistrates, on the 13th of October (the new bill commencing on the 1st of September), passed the fohowing resolution : — ' That persons committed for trial, who are able to work, and have the means of employment offered them by the visiting magistrates, by which they may earn their support, but who obsti- nately refuse to work, shall be allowed bread and wa- ter only.' By this resolution they admit, of course, that the counsel are right hi their interpretation of the present law ; and that magistrates are forced to maintain pris- oners before trial who do not choose to work. The magistrates say, however, by their resolution, that the food shall be of the plainest and humblest kind, — bread and water; meaning, of course, that such pri- soners should have a sufficient quantity of bread and water, or otherwise the evasion of the law would be in the highest degree mean and reprehensible. But it is impossible to suppose any such thing to be inten- ded by gentlemen so highly respectable. Their inten- tion is not that idle persons before trial shall starve,— but that they shall have barely enough of the plainest food for the support of life and health. Mr. Headlam has written a pamphlet to show that the old law was very reasonable and proper ; that it is quite right that prisoners before trial, who are able to support themselves, but unwilling to work, should be compelled to work, and at the treadmill, or that ail support should be refused them. We are entirely of an opposite opinion ; and maintain that it is neither legal nor expedient to compel prisoners before trial to work at the treadmill, or at any species of labour, — and that those who refuse to work should be support- ed upon a plain healthy diet. We impute no sort of blame to the magistrates of the North Riding, or to Mr. Headlam, their chairman. We have no doubt but that they thought their measures the wisest and the best for correcting evil, and that they adopted them in pursuance of what they thought to be their duty. — Nor do we enter into any discussion with Mr. Head- lam, as chairman of a Quarter Sessions, but as the writer of a pamphlet. It is only in his capacity of author that we have any thing to do with him. In answering the arguments of Mr. Headlam, we shall notice, at the same time, a few other observations commonly resorted to in defence of a system which we believe to be extremely pernicious, and pregnant with the worst consequences ; and so thinking, we contend against it, and in support of the law as it now stands. We will not dispute with Mr. Headlam, whether his exposition of the old law is right or wrong ; be- cause time cannot be more unprofitably employed than in hearing gentlemen who are not lawyers dis- cuss points of law. We dare to say Mr. Headlam knows as much of the laws of his country as magis- trates in general do ; but he will pardon us for believing, that for the moderate sum of three guineas a much better opinion of what the law is now, or was then, can be purchased, than it is in the power of Mr. Headlam or of any county magistrate, to give for no- thing — Cuilibet in arte sua credendum est. It is con- cerning the expediency of such laws, and upon that point alone, that we are at issue with Mr. Headlam ; and do not let this gentleman suppose it to be any an- swer to our remarks to state what is done in the prison in which he is concerned, now the law is altered. The question is, whether he is right or wrong in his rea- soning upon what the law ought to be ; we wish to hold out such reasoning to public notice, and think it important it should be refuted — doubly important, when it comes from an author, the leader of the quo- rum, who may say with the pious JEneas, Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, Et quorum pars magna fui. If, in this discussion, we are forced to insist upon the plainest and most elementary truths, the fault is not with us, but with those who forget them ; and 84 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. who refuse to be any longer restrained by those prin- tiples which have hitherto been held to be as clear as they are important to human happiness. To begin, then, with the nominative case and the verb — we must remind those advocates for the tread mill, a parte ante (for which the millers a parte post we have no quarrel) , that it is one of the oldest max- ims of common sense, common humanity, and common law, to consider every man as innocent till he is proved to be guilty ; and not only to consider him to be inno- cent, but to treat him as if he was so ; to exercise upon his case not merely a barren speculation, but one which produces practical effects, and which secures to a prisoner the treatment of an honest, unpunished man. Now, to compel prisoners before trial to work at the treadmill, as the condition of their support, must, in a great number of instances, operate as a very severe punishment. A prisoner may be a tailor, a watchmaker, a bookbinder, a printer, totally unac- customed to any such species of labour. Such a man may be cast into jail at the end of August,* and not tried till the March following, is it no punishment to such a man to walk up hill like a turnspit dog, in an infamous machine, for six months? and yet there are gentlemen who suppose that the common people do not consider this as punishment ! — that the gayest and most joyous of human beings is a treader, untried by a jury of his countrymen, in the fifth month of lifting up the leg, and striving against the law of grav- ity, supported by the glorious iufonnation which he receives from the turnkey, that he has all the time been grinding flour on the other side of the wall ! If this sort of exercise, necessarily painful to sedentary persons, is agreeable to persons accustomed to labour, then make it voluntary — give the prisoners their choice — give more money and more diet to those who can and will labour at the treadmill, if the treadmill (now bo dear to magistrates) is a proper punishment for untried prisoners. The position we are contending ftgainst is, that all poor prisoners who are able to work should be put to work upon the treadmill, the inevitable consequence of which practice is, a repeti- tion of gross injustice by the infliction of undeserved punishment; for punishment, and severe punishment, to such persons as we have enumerated, we must con- sider it to be. But punishments are not merely to be estimated by pain to the limbs, but by the feelings of the mind. Gentlemen punishers are apt to forget that the com- mon people have any mental feelings at all, and think, if body and belly are attended to, that persons under a certain income have no right to likes and dislikes. The labour of the treadmill is irksome, dull, monoto- nous, and disgusting tn the last degree. A man does not see his work, does not know what he is doing, what progress he is making ; there is no room for art, contrivance, ingenuity, and superior skill — all which are the cheering circumstances of human labour. The husbandman sees the field gradually subdued by the plough ; the smith beats the rude mass of iron by degrees into its meditated shape, and gives it a medi- tated utility ; the tailor accommodates his parallelo- gram of cloth to the lumps and bumps of the human body, and, holding it up, exclaims, l This will contain the lower moiety of an human being.' But the treader does nothing but tread ; he sees no change of objects, admires no new relation of parts, imparts no new qual- ities to matter, and gives to it no new arrangements and positions ; or, if he does, he sees and knows it not, but is turned at once from a rational being, by a justice of peace, into a primum mobile, and put upon a level with a rush of water or a puff of steam. It is impos- sible to get gentlemen to attend to the distinction be- tween raw and roasted prisoners, without which all discussion on prisoners is perfectly ridiculous. No- thing can be more excellent than this kind of labour * Mr. Headlam, as we understand, would extend this labour to all poor prisoners before trial, in jails which are delivered twice a year at the assizes, as well as to houses of correction delivered four times a year at the Sessions ; i.e. not to extend the labonr, but to refuse all support to those who refuse the labour — a distinction, but not a difference. for persons to whom you mean to make labour as irk- some as possible ; but for this very reason, it is the labour to which an untried prisoner ought not to be put. It is extremely uncandid to say that a man is obsti- nately and incorrigibly idle, because he will not sub- mit to such tiresome and detestable labour as that of the treadmill. It is an old feeling among Englishmen that there is a difference between tried and untried persons, between accused and convicted persons. — These old opinions were in fashion before this new magistrate's plaything was invented ; and we are con- vinced that many industrious persons, feeling that they have not had their trial, and disgusted with the nature of the labour, would refuse to work at the treadmill, who would not be averse to join in any common and fair occupation. Mr. Headlam says, that labour may be a privilege as well as a punishment. — So may taking physic be a privilege, in cases where it is asked for as a charitable relief, but not if it is stuffed down a man's throat whether he say yea or nay. Cer- tainly labour is not necessarily a punishment : nobody has said it is so ; but Mr. Headlam's labour is a pun- ishment, because it is irksome, infamous, unasked for, and undeserved. This gentleman, however, observes, that committed persons have offended the laws ; and the sentiment expressed in these words is the true key to his pamphlet and his system — a perpetual tendency to confound the convicted and the accused. ' With respect to those sentenced to labour as a punishment, I apprehend there is no difference of opinion. All are agreed that it is a great defect in any prison where such convicts are unemployed. But as to all other prisoners, whether debtors, persons committed for trial, or convicts not sentenced to hard labour, if they have no means of subsisting themselves, and must, if discharged, either labour for their livelihood or apply for parochial relief, it seems unfair to society at large, and especially to those who maintain themselves by honest indus- try, that those who, by offending the laws, have subjected them- selves to imprisonme7it, should be lodged, and clothed, and fed, without being called upon for the same exertions which other* have to use to obtain such advantages.' — Headlam, pp. 23, 24. Now nothing can be more unfair than to say that such men have offended the laws. That is the very question to be tried, whether they have offended the laws or not ? It is merely because this little circum- stance is taken for granted that we have any quarrel at all with Mr. Headlam and his school. ' I can make,' says Mr. Headlam, ' every delicate considera- tion for the rare case of a person perfectly innocent being committed to jail on suspicion of crime. Such person is desc r- vedly an object of compassion, for having fallen under circum- stances which subject him to be charged with crime, and, con- sequently, to be deprived of his liberty : but if he has been in the habit of labouring for his bread before his commitment, there does not appear to be any addition to his misfortune in being called upon to work for his subsistence in prison.'— Headlam, p. 24. And yet Mr. Headlam describes this very punish- ment, which does not add to the misfortunes of an in- nocent man, to be generally disagreeable, to be dull, irk- some, to excite a strong dislike, to be a dull, monotonous labour, to be a contrivance which connects the idea of discomfort with a jail. (p. 36.) So that Mr. Headlam looks upon it to be no increase of an innocent man's misfortunes, to be constantly employed upon a dull, irksome, monotonous labour, which excites a strong dislike, and connects the idea of discomfort with a jail. We cannot stop, or stoop to consider, whether beating hemp is more or less dignified than working in a mill. The simple rule is this, — whatever felons do, men not yet proved to be felons should not be compelled to do. It is of no use to look into hvws become obsolete by alteration of manners. For these fifty years past, and before the invention of treadmills, untried men were not put upon felons' work ; but with the mill came in the mischief. Mr. Headlam asks, How can men be employed upon the ancient trades in a prison ? — cer- tainly they cannot ; but are human occupations so few, and is the ingenuity of magistrates and jailers so lim- ited, that no occupations can be found for innocent men, but those which are shameful and odious ? Does Mr. Headlam really believe, that grown up and bap- CRUEL TREATMENT OF UNTRIED PRISONERS. 136 tised persons are to be satisfied with such arguments, or repelled by such difficulties. ? It is some compensation to an acquitted person, that the labour he has gone through unjustly in jail has taught him some trade, given him an insight into some species of labour in which he may hereafter im- prove himself; but Mr. Headlam's prisoner, after a verdict of acquittal, has learnt no other art than of walking up hill ; he has nothing to remember or re- compense him but three months of undeserved and unprofi table torment. The verdict of the jury has pronounced him steady in his morals ; the conduct of the justices has made him stiff in his joints. But it is next contended by some persons, that the poor prisoner is not compelled to work, because he has the alternative of starving, if he refuses to work. You take up a poor man upon suspicion, deprive him of all his usual methods of getting his livelihood, and then giving him the first view of the treadmill, he of the quorum thus addresses him : — l My amiable friend, we use no compulsion with untried prisoners. You are free as air till you are found guilty ; only it is my duty to inform you , as you have no money of your own, that the disposition to eat and drink which you have allowed you sometimes feel, and upon which I do not mean to cast any degree of censure, cannot possibly be gratified but by constant grinding in this machine. It has its inconveniences, I admit; but balance them against the total want of meat and drink, and decide for yourself. You are perfectly at liberty to make your choice, and I by no means wish to influence your judgment.' But Mr. Nicoll has a curious remedy for all this miserable tyranny ; he says it is not meant as a punishment. But if I am conscious that I never have committed the offence, certain that I have never been found guilty of it, and find myself tossed into the middle of an infernal machine, by the folly of those who do not know how to use the power entrusted to them, is it any consolation to me to be told, that it is not intended as a punishment, that it is a lucubration of justices, a new theory of prison dis- cipline, a valuable county experiment going on at the expense of my arms, legs, back, feelings, character, and rights ? We must tie those prcegustant punishers down by one question. Do you mean to inflict any degree of punishment upon persons merely for being suspected? — or at least any other degree of punish- ment than that without which criminal justice cannot exist, detention ? If you do, why let any one out upon bail ? For the question between us is not, how suspec- ted persons are to be treated, and whether or not they are to be punished ; but how suspected poor persons are to be treated, who want county support in prison. If to be suspected is deserving of punishment, then no man ought to be let out upon bail, but every one should be kept grinding from accusation to trial; and so ought all prisoners to be treated for offences not bail- able, and who do not want the county allowance. And yet no grinding philosopher contends, that all suspec- ted persons should be put in the mill — but only those who are too poor to find bail, or buy provisions. If there are, according to the doctrines of the millers, to be two punishments, the first for being suspected of committing the offence, and the second for committing it, there should be two trials as well as two punish- ments. Is the man really suspected, or do his accusers only pretend to suspect him ? Are the suspecting of better character than the suspected ? Is it a light sus- picion which may be atoned for by grinding a peck a day ? Is it a bushel case ? or is it one deeply criminal, which requires the flour to be ground fine enough for French rolls ? But we must put an end to such ab- surdities. It is very untruly stated, that a prisoner, before trial, not compelled to work, and kept upon a plain diet, merely sufficient to maintain him in health, is better off than he was previous to his accusation ; and it is asked, with a triumphant leer, whether the situa- tion of any man ought to be improved, merely because he has become an object of suspicion to his fellow- creatures? This happy and fortunate man, however, is separated from his wife and family ; his liberty is taken away ; he is confined within four walls ; he has I the reflection that his family are existing upon a pre- carious parish support, that his little trade and pro perty are wasting, that his character has become is famous, that he has incurred ruin by the malice ot others, or by his own crimes, that in a few weeks he is to forfeit his life, or be banished from every thing he loves upon earth. This is the improved situation, and the redundant happiness which requires the penal circumvolutions of the justice's mill to cut oft so un- just a balance of gratification, and bring him a little nearer to what he was before imprisonment and accu- sation. It would be just as reasonable to say, that an idle man in a fever is better oft' than a healthy man who is well and earns his bread. He may be better off if you look to the idleness alone, though that 16 doubtful ; but is he better off if all the aches, agonies disturbances, deliriums, and the nearness to death, are added to the lot ? Mr. Headlam's panacea for all prisoners before trial, is the treadmill : we beg his pardon — for all poor pri- soners; but a man who is about to be tried for his life, often wants all his leisure time to reflect upon his defence. The exertions of every man within the walls of a prison are necessarily crippled and impair- ed. What can a prisoner answer who is taken hot and reeking from the treadmill, and asked what he has to say in his defence ; his answer naturally is — * I have been grinding corn instead of thinking of my de- fence, and have never been allowed the proper leisure to think of protecting my character and my life.' This is a very strong feature of cruelty and tyranny in the mill. We ought to be sure that every man has had the fullest leisure to prepare for his defence, that his mind and body have not been harassed by vexatious and compulsory employment. The public purchase, at a great price, legal accuracy, and legal talent, to accuse a man who has not, perhaps, one shilling to spend upon his defence. It is atrocious cruelty not to leave him full leisure to write his scarcely legible let- ters to his witnesses and to use all the melancholy and feeble means which suspected poverty can employ for its defence against the long and heavy arm of power. A prisoner, upon the system recommended by Mr, Headlam, is committed, perhaps at the end of August, and brought to trial the March following ; and, after all, the bill is either thrown out by the grand jury, or the prisoner is fully acquitted ; and it has been found, we believe, by actual returns, that, of committed pri- soners, about a half are actually acquitted, or their ac- cusations dismissed by the grand jury. This maybe very true, say the advocates of this system, but we know that many men who are acquitted are guilty. They escape through some mistaken lenity of the law, or some corruption of evidence ; and as they have net had their deserved punishment after trial, we are not sorry they had it before. The English law says, better many guilty escape, than that one innocent man perish ; but the humane notions of the mill are bottom- ed upon the principle, that all had better be punished lest any escape. They evince a total mistrust in the jurisprudence of the country, and say the results of trial are so uncertain, that it is better to punish all the prisoners before they come into court. Mr. Headlam forgets that general rules are not beneficial in each in- dividual instance, but beneficial upon the whole ; that they are preserved because they do much more good than harm, though in some particular instances they do more harm than good ; yet no respectable man violates them on that account, but holds them sacred for the great balance of advantage they confer upon mankind. It is one of the greatest crimes, for instance, to take away the fife of a man ; yet there are many men whose death would be a good to society, rather than an evil. Every good man respects the property of others ; yet to take from a worthless miser, and to give it to a virtuous man in distress, would be an ad- vantage. Sensible men are never staggered when they see the exception. They know the importance of the rule, and protect it most eagerly at the very moment when it is doing more harm than good. The r lain rule of justice is, that no man should be punished till he it found guilty ; but because Mr. Headlam occasionally 13b WORKS OFTHE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. sees a bad man acquitted under this rule, and sent out unpunished upon the world, he forgets all the general good and safety of the principle are debauched by the exception, ana applauds and advocates a system of prison discipline which renders injustice certain, in order to prevent it from being occasional. The meaning of all preliminary imprisonment is, that the accused person should be forthcoming at the time of trial. It was never intended as a punishment. Bail is a far better invention than imprisonment, in cases where the heavy punishment of the offence would not induce the accused person to run away from any bail. Now, let us see the enormous difference this new style of punishment makes between two men, whose only difference is, that one is poor and the other rich. A and B are accused of some bailable offence. A has no bail to offer, and no money to sup- port himself in prison, and takes, therefore, his four or five months in the treadmill. B gives bail, appears at his trial, and both are sentenced to two months' imprisonment. In this case, the one suffers three times as much as the other for the same offence : but suppose A is acquitted and B found guilty — the inno- cent man has then laboured in the treadmill five months because he was poor, and the guilty man labours two months because he was rich. We are aware that there must be, even without the tread- mill, a great and an inevitable difference between men (in pari delicto,) some of whom can give bail, and some not ; but that difference becomes infinitely more bitter and objectionable, in proportion as de- tention before trial assumes the character of severe and degrading punishment. If motion in the treadmill was otherwise as fasci- nating as millers describe it to be, still the mere de- gradation of the punishment is enough to revolt every feeling of an untried person. It is a punishment con- secrated to convicted felons — and it has every cha- racter that such" punishment ought to have. An un- tried person feels at once, in getting into the mill, that he is put to the labour of the guilty ; that a mode of employment has been selected for him, which ren- ders him infamous before a single fact or argument has been advanced to establish his guilt. If men are put into the treadmill before trial, it is literally of no sort of consequence whether they are acquitted or not. Acquital does not shelter them from punish- ment, for they have "already been punished. It does not screen them from infamy, for they have already been treated as if they were infamous ; and the asso- ciation of the treadmill and crimes is not to be got over. This machine flings all the power of juries into the hands of the magistrate, and makes every simple commitment more terrible than a conviction ; for. in a conviction, the magistrate considers whether the offence has been committed or not ; and does not send the prisoner to jail unless he thinks him guilty ; but in a simple commitment, a man is not sent to jail because the magistrate is convinced of his guilt, but because he thinks a fair question may be made to a jury whether the accused person is guilty or not. Still, however, the convicted and the suspected both go to the same mill ; and he who is there upon the doubt, grinds as much flour as the other whose guilt is established by a full examination of conflicting evidence. Where is the necessity for such a violation of com- mon sense and common justice ? Nobody asks for the idle prisoner before trial more than a very plain and moderate diet. Offer him, if you please, some labour which is less irksome, and less infamous than the treadmill — bribe him by improved diet, and a share of the earnings ; there will not be three men out of an hundred who would refuse such an invitation, and spurn at such an improvement of their condition. A little humane attention and persuasion, among men who ought, upon every principle of justice, to be con- sidered as innocent, we should have thought much more consonant to English justice, and to the feelings of English magistrates, than the rack and wheel of Cubitt.* • It is singular enough, that we use these observations iu Prison discipline is an object of considerable im portance ; but the common rights of mankind, and the common principles of justice, and humanity, and liberty, are of greater consequence even than prison discipline. Right and wrong, innocence and guilt, must not be confounded, that a prison-fancying justice may bring his friend into the prison and say, ' Look what a spectacle of order, silence, and decorum we have established here ! no idleness, all grinding ! — we produce a penny roll every second — our prison is sup- posed to be the best regulated prison in England — Cubitt is making us a new wheel of forty felon power — look how white the flour is, all done by untried pri- soners — as innocent as lambs !' If prison discipline is to supersede every other consideration, why are pennyless prisoners alone to be put into the mill be fore trial? If idleness in jails is so pernicious, why not put all prisoners in the treadmill, the rich as weii as those who are unable to support themselves ? Why are the debtors left out ? If fixed principles are to be given up, and prisons turned into a plaything for ma- gistrates, nothing can be more unpicturesque than to see one-half of the prisoners looking on, talking,. gaping, and idling, while their poorer brethren are grinding for dinners and suppers. It is a very weak argument to talk of the prisoner? earning their support, and the expense to a county of maintaining prisoners before trial — as if any rational man could ever expect to gain a farthing by an ex- pensive mill, where felons are the moving power, and justices the superintendents, or as if such a trade must not necessarily be carried on at a great loss. If it were just and proper that prisoners, before trial, should be condemned to the mill, it would be of no consequence whether the county gained or lost by the trade. But the injustice of the practice can never be defended by its economy; and the fact is, that it increases expenditure, while it violates principle. We are aware, that by leaving out repairs, alterations, and first costs, and a number of little particulars, a very neat account, signed by a jailer, may be made up, which shall make the mill a miraculous combina- tion of mercantile speculation and moral improve- ment ; but we are too old for all this. We accuse no- body of intentional misrepresentation. This is quite out of the question with persons so highly respectable : but men are constantly misled by the spirit of system, and egregiously deceive themselves — even very good and sensible men Mr. Headlam compares the case of a prisoner before trial, claiming support, to that of a pauper claiming relief from his parish. But it seems to us that no two cases can be more dissimilar. The prisoner was no pauper before you took him up, and deprived him of his customers, tools, and market. It is by your act and deed that he is fallen into a state of pauperism ; and nothing can be more preposterous, than first to make a man a pauper, and then to punish him for be- ing so. It is true, that the apprehension and deten- tion of the prisoner were necessary for the purposes of criminal justice ; but the consequences arising from this necessary act cannot yet be imputed to the pri- soner. He has brought it upon himself, it will be ur- ged ; but that remains to be seen, and will not be known till he is tried; and till it is known you have no right to take it for granted, and to punish him as if it were proved. There seems to be in the minds of some gentlemen a notion, that when once a person is in prison, it is ot little consequence how he is treated afterwards. The tyranny which prevailed, of putting a person in a par- ticular dress before trial, now abolished by act ot Parliament, was justified by this train of reasoning: — The man has been rendered infamous by imprison- ment. He cannot be rendered more so, dress him at. you will. His character is not rendered worse by the treadmill, than it is by being sent to the place where the treadmill is at work. The substance of this way of thinking is, that when a fellow-creature is in the reviewing the pamphlet and system of a gentleman remarka- ble for the urbanity of his manners, and the mildness and hu- manity of his disposition. AMERICA. 137 frying pan, there is no harm in pushing him into the fire ; that a little more misery — a little more infamy — a few more links are of no sort of consequence in a prison-life. If this monstrous style of reasoning ex- tended to hospitals as well as prisons, there would be no harm in breaking the small bone of a man's leg, — because the large one was fractured, or in peppering with small shot a person who was wounded with a cannon-ball. The principle is, because a man is very wretched there is no harm in making him a little more so. The steady answer to all this is, that a man is imprisoned before trial, solely for the purpose of se- curing his appearance at his trial; and that no punish- ment nor privation, not clearly and candidly necessary for that purpose, should be inflicted upon him. I keep you in prison, because criminal justice would be de- feated by your flight, if I did not : but criminal justice can go on very well without degrading you to hard and infamous labour, or denying you any reasonable grati- fication. For these reasons, the first of those acts is just, the rest are mere tyranny. Mr. Nicoll, in his opinion, tells us, that he has no doubt Parliament would amend the bill, if the omission was stated to them. We, on the contrary, have no manner of doubt that Parliament would treat such a petition with the contempt it deserved. Mr. Peel is too much enlightened and sensible to give any counte- nance to such a great and glaring error. In this case, — and we wish it were a more frequent one — the wis- dom comes from within, and the error from without the walls of Parliament. A prisoner before trial who can support himself, — ought to be allowed every fair and rational enjoyment which he can purchase, not incompatible with prison discipline. He should be allowed to buy ale or wine in moderation, — to use tobacco, or any thing else he can pay for within the above-mer tioned limits. If he cannot support himself, and declines work, then he should be supported upon a very plain, but still a plen- tiful diet (something better we think than bread and water) ; and all prisoners before trial should be allowed to work. By a liberal share of earnings (or rather by rewards, for there would be no earnings); and also by an improved diet, and in the hands of humane magis- trates,* there would soon appear to be no necessity for appealing to the treadmill till trial was over. This treadmill, after trial, is certainly a very excel- lent method of punishment, as far as we are yet ac- quainted with its effects. We think, at present, how- ever, it is a little absurd; and hereafter it is our intention to express our opinion upon the limits to which it ought to be confined. Upon this point, how- ever, we do not much differ from Mr. Headlam; — although, in his remarks on the treatment of prisoners before trial, we think he has made a very serious mis- take, and has attempted (without knowing what he was doing, and meaning, we are persuaded, nothing but what was honest and just) to pluck up one of the ancient landmarks of human justice .f * All magistrates should remember that nothing is more easy to a person intrusted with power than to convince himself it is his duty to treat his fellow-creatures with severity and rigour, —and then to persuade himself that he is doing it very reluc- tantly, and contrary to his real feeling. t We hope this article will conciliate our old friend, Mr. Roscoe — who is very angry with us for some of our former lucubrations on prison discipline, — and, above all, because we are not grave enough for him. The difference is thus stated : — Six ducks are stolen. Mr. Roscoe would commit the man to prison for six weeks, perhaps, — reason with him, argue with him, give him tracts, send clergymen to him, work him gently at some useful trade, and try to turn him from the habit of stealing poultry. We would keep him hard at work twelve hours every day at the treadmill, feed him only so as not to impair his health, and then give him as much of Mr. Roscoe's system as was compatible with our own ; and we think our method would diminish the number of duck-stealers more effectually than that of the historian of Leo X. The primary duck-stealer would, we think, be as effectually deterred from repeating the offence by the terror of our imprisonment, as by the excellence of Mr. Roscoe's education — and, what is of infi- nitely greater consequence, innumerable duck-stealers would be prevented. Because punishment does not annihilate crime, it is folly to say it does not lessen it. It did not stop the mur- der of Mrs. Donatty ; but how many Mrs. Donattys has it kept AMERICA. (Edinburgh Review.) 1. Travels through Part of the United States and Canada, in 181S and 1819. By John M. Duncan, A. B. Glasgow, 1823. 2. Letters from North America, vyritten during a Tour in the United States and Canada. By Adam Hodgson. Lon- don, 1824. 3. An Excursion through the United States and Canada, dur" ing the years 1822-3. By an English gentleman. Londoru 1824. There is a set of miserable persons in England, who are dreadfully afraid of America and every thing Ame- rican — whose great delight is to see that country ridi- culed and vilified — and who appear to imagine that all the abuses which exist in this country acquire addi- tional vigour and chance of duration from every book of travels which pours forth its venom and falsehood on the United States. We shall from time to time call the attention of the public to this subject, not from any party spirit, but because we love the truth, and praise excellence wherever we find it ; and because we think the example of America, will in many instances tend to open the eyes of Englishmen to their true inte- rests. The economy of America is a great and important object for our imitation. The salary of Mr. Bagot, our late ambassador, was, we believe, rather higher than that of the President of the United States. The vice- president receives rather less than the second clerk of the House of Commons ; and all salaries civil and mi- litary, are upon the same scale ; and yet no country is better served than America ! Mr. Hume has at last persuaded the English people to look into their ac- counts, and see how sadly they are plundered. But we ought to suspend our contempt for America, and con- sider whether we have not a very momentous lesson to learn from this wise and cautious people on the subject of economy. A lesson upon the importance of religious toleration, we are determined, it would seem, not to learn,— either from America or any other quarter of the globe. The High Sheriff of New York last year was a Jew. It was with the utmost difficulty that a bill was carried this year to allow the first Duke of England to carry a gold stick before the king — because he was a Catholic ! — and yet we think ourselves entitled to indulge in im- pertinent sneers at America, — as if civilization did not depend more upon making wise laws for the promotion of human happiness, than in having good inns, and post-horses, and civil waiters. The circumstances of the Dissenters' marriage bill are such as would excite the contempt of a Choctaw or Cherokee, if he could be brought to understand them. A certain class of Dis- senters beg they may not be compelled to say that they marry in the name of the Trinity, because they do not believe in the Trinity. Never mind, say the corruptionists, you must go on saying you marry in the alive! When we recommend severity, we recommend, of course, that degree of severity which will not excite compas- sion for the sufferer, and lessen the horror of the crime. This is why we do not recommend torture and amputation of limbs. When a man has been proved to have committed a crime, it is expedient that society should make use of that man for the diminution of crime : he belongs to them for that purpose, Our primary duty, in such a case, is so to treat the culprit that many other persons may be rendered better, or prevented from being worse by dread of the same treatment ; and, making this the principal object, to combine with it as much as possible the improvement of the individual. The ruffian who killed Mr. Mumford was hung within forty-eight hours. Upon Mr. Roscoe's principles, this was wrong ; for it certainly was not the way to reclaim the man : — We say, on the contra- ry, the object was to do anything with the man which would render murders less frequent, and that the conversion of the man was a mere trifle compared to this. His death probably prevented the necessity of reclaiming a dozen murderers. That death will not, indeed, prevent all murders in that coun- ty ; but many who have seen it, and many who have heard of it, will swallow their revenge from the dread of being hanged. Mr. Roscoe is very severe upon our style ; but poor dear Mr. Roscoe should remember that men have different tastes, and different methods of going to work. We feel these matters m deeply tus he does. But why so cross upon thii «r any othef subject?- !38 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. name of the Trinity, whether you believe in it or not. We know that such a protestation from you will be false : but, unless you make it, your wives shall be concubines, and your children illegitimate. Is it pos- sible to conceive a greater or more useless tyranny than this ? ' In the religious freedom which America enjoys, I see a more unquestioned superiority. In Britain we enjoy tolera- tion, but here they enjoy liberty. If government has a right to grant toleration to any particular set of religious opinions, it has also a right to take it away; and such a right with regard to opinions exclusively religious I would deny in all cases, because totally inconsistent with the na- ture of religion, in the proper meaning of the word, and equally irreconcilable with civil liberty, rightly so called. God has given to each of us his inspired word, and a rational mind to which that word is addressed. He has also made known to us. that each for himself must answer at his tribunal for his principles and conduct. What man, then, or body of men, has a right to tell me, " You do not think aright on religious subjects, but we will tolerate your error?" The answer is a most obvious one, "Who gave you authority to dictate?— or what exclusive claim have you to infallibility?" If my sentiments do not lead me into conduct inconsistent with the welfare of my fellow- creatures, the question as to their accuracy or fallacy is one between God and my own conscience; and, though a fair subject for argument, is none for compulsion. < The Inquisition undertook to regulate astronomical science, and kings and parliaments have with equal pro- priety presumed to legislate upon questions of theology. The world has outgrown the former, and it will one day be ashamed that it has been so long of outgrowing the latter. The founders of the American republic saw the absurdity of employing the attorney-general to refute deism and in- fidelity, or of attempting to influence opinion on abstract subjects by penal enactment; they saw also the injustice of taking the whole to support the religious opinions of the few, and have set an example which older governments will one day or other be compelled to follow. 'In America the question is not, What is his creed? — but, what is his conduct ? Jews have all the privileges of Chris- tians; Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents, meet on common ground. No religious test is required to qualify for public office, except in some cases a mere verbal assent to the truth of the Christian religion; and in every court throughout the country, it is optional whether you give your affirmation or your oath.' — Duncan's Travels, II.32S — 330. In fact, it is hardly possible for any nation to show a greater superiority over another than the Americans, in this particular, have done over this country. They have fairly, completely, and probably for ever, extin- guished that spirit of religious persecution which has been the employment and curse of mankind for four or five centuries, not only that persecution which impri- sons and scourges for religious opinions, but the tyran- ny of incapacitation, which, by disqualifying from civil offices, and cutting a man off from the lawful objects of ambition, endeavours to strangle religious freedom in silence, and to enjoy all the advantages without the blood, and noise , and fire of persecution. What passes in the mind of one mean blockhead is the general histo- ry of all persecution. < This man pretends to know bet- ter than me — I cannot subdue him by argument ; but I will take care he shall never be mayor or alderman of the town in which he lives ; I will never consent to the repeal of the test act or to Catholic emancipation ; I will teach the fellow to differ from me in religious opinions !' So says the Episcopalian to the Catholic —and so the Catholic says to the Protestant. But the wisdom of America keeps them all down— secures to them all their just rights— gives to each of them their separate pews, and bells, and steeples — makes them all aldermen in their turns— and quietly extinguishes the faggots which each is preparing for the combustion of the other. Nor is this indifference to religious sub- jects in the American people, but pure civilization — a thorough comprehension of what is best calculated to secure the public happiness and peace — and a determi- nation that this happiness and peace shall not be vio- lated by the insolence of any human being, in the garb, and under the sanction, of religion. In this particular, the Americans are at the head of all the nations of the world : and at the same time they are, especially in the Eastern and Midland States, so far from being indifferent on subjects of religion, that they may be j most justly characterized as a very religious people : but they are devout without being unjust (the great I J problem in religion); an higher proof of civilization than painted tea-cups, water-proof leather, or broad- cloth at two guineas a yard. America is exempted by its very newness as a na- tion, from many of the evils of the old governments of Europe. It has no mischievous remains of feudal in- stitutions, and no violations of political economy sanc- tioned by time, and older than the age of reason. If a man finds a partridge upon his ground eating his corn, in any part of Kentucky or Indiana, he may kill it, even if his father is not a doctor of divinity. The Americans do not exclude their own citizens from any branch of commerce which they leave open to all the rest of the world. 1 One of them said, that he was well acquainted with a British subject, residing at Newark, Upper Canada, who annually smuggled from 500 to 1000 chests of tea into that I province from the United States. He mentioned the name of this man, who he said was growing very rich in conse- quence; and he stated the manner in which the fraud was managed. Now, as all the tea ought to be brought from England, it is of course very expensive ; and therefore the Canadian tea dealers, after buying one or two chests at Montreal or elsewhere, which have the custom-house mark . upon them, fill them up ever afterwards with tea brought I from the United States. It is calculated that near 10,000 chests are annually consumed in the Canadas, of which not more than 2000 or 3000 come from Europe. Indeed, when I had myself entered Canada, I was told that of every fif- teen pounds of tea sold there, thirteen were smuggled. The profit upon smuggling this article is from 50 to 100 per cent., and with an extensive and wild frontier like Canada, can- not be prevented. Indeed it every year increases, and is brought to a more perfect system. But I suppose that the English government, which is the perfection of wisdom, will never allow the Canadian merchants to trade direct to China, in order that (from pure charity) the whole profit of the tea trade may be given up to the United States.' — Ex- cursion, pp. 394, 395. 'You will readily conceive, that it is with no small morti- fication that I hear these American merchants talk of send- ing their ships to London and Liverpool, to take in goods or specie, with which to purchase tea for the supply of European ports, almost within sight of our own shores. They often taunt me, asking me what our government can possibly mean by prohibiting us from engaging in a profit- able trade, which is open to them and to all the world ? or where can be our boasted liberties, while we tamely submit to the infraction of our natural rights, to supply a monopoly as absurd as it is unjust, and to humour the caprice of a company who exclude their fellow-subjects from a branch of commerce which they do not pursue themselves, but leave to the enterprise of foreigners, or commercial rivals ? On such occasions I can only reply, that both our govern- ment and people are growing wiser; and that if the charter of the East India Company be renewed, when it next ex- pires, I will allow them to infer, that the people of England have little influence in the administration of their own affairs.'— H odgson's Letters, II. 128, 129. Though America is a confederation of republics, they are in many cases much more amalgamated than the various parts of Great Britain. If a citizen of the United States can make a shoe, he is at liberty to make a shoe any where between Lake Ontario and New Orleans, — he may sole on the Mississippi — heel on the Missouri — measure Mr. Birkbeck on the little Wabash, or take (which our best politicians do not find an easy matter), the length of Munroe's foot on the banks of the Potomac. But wo to the cobbler, who, having made Hessian boots for the aldermen of Newcastle, should venture to invest with these coria- ceous integuments the leg of a liege subject at York. A yellow ant in a nest of red ants — a butcher's dog in a fox-kennel — a mouse in a bee-hive, — all feel the ef- fects of untimely intrusion;— but far preferable their fate to that of the misguided artisan, who, misled by> sixpenny histories of England, and conceiving his country to have been united at the Heptarchy, goes forth from his native town to stich freely within the sea-girt limits of Albion. Him the mayor, him the alderman, him the recorder, him the quarter sessions would worry. Him the justices before trial would long to get into the treadmill ;* and would lament that, by di d d d * This puts us in mind of our friend Mr. Headlam, who: we hear, has written an answer to our Observations on the AMERICA. 139 a recent act, they could not do so, even with the in- truding tradesman's consent ; but the moment he was tried, they would push him in with redoubled energy, and leave him to tread himself into a conviction of the barbarous institutions of his corporation-divided country. Too much praise cannot be given to the Americans for their great attention to the subject of education. — All the public lands are surveyed according to the di- rection of Congress. They are divided into townships of six miles square, by lines running with the cardi- nal points, and consequently crossing each other at right angles. Every township is divided into 36 sec- tions, each a mile square, and containg 640 acres. One section in each township is reserved, and given in per- petuity for the benefit of common schools. In ad- dition to this, the states of Tennessee and Ohio have received grants for the support of colleges and acade- mies. The appropriation generally in the new states for seminaries of the higher orders, amounts to one- fifth of those for common schools. It appears from Seybert's Statistical Annals, that the land in the states and territories on the east side of the Mississippi, in which appropriations have been made, amounts to 237,300 acres ; and according to the ratio above men- tioned, the aggregate on the east side of the Missis- sippi is 7,900,000. The same system of appropriation applied to the west, will make, for schools and colle- ges, 6,600,000 ; and the total appropriation for literary purposes, in the new states ana territories, 14,500,000 acres, which, at two dollars per acre, would be 29,000,000 dollars. These facts are very properly quoted by Mr. Hodgson ; and it is impossible to speak too highly of their value and importance. They quite put in the back ground every thing which has been done in the Old World for the improvement of the lower orders, and confer deservedly upon the Ameri- cans the character of a wise, a reflecting, and a virtu- ous people. It is rather surprising that such a people, spreading rapidly over so vast a portion of the earth, and culti- vating all the liberal and useful arts so successfully, should be so extremely sensitive and touchy as the Americans are said to be. We really thought at one time they would have fitted out an armament against the Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews, and burnt down Mr. Murray's and Mr. Constable's shops, as we did the American Capitol. We, however, remember no other anti-American crime of which we were guilty, than a preference of Shakspeare and Milton over Joel Barlow and Timothy Dwight. That opinion we must still take the liberty of retaining. There is nothing in Dwight comparable to the finest passages of Paradise Lost, nor is Mr. Barlow ever so humorous or pathetic, as the great bard of the English stage is humorous or pathetic. We have always been strenuous* advocates Treadmill, before Trial. It would have been a very easy thing: for us to have hung Mr. Headlam up as a spectacle to the United Kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland, the principality of Wales, and the town of Berwick-on- Tweed ; but we have no wish to make a worthy and res- pectable man ridiculous. For these reasons we have not even looked at his pamphlet, and we decline entering into a controversy upon a point, where, among men of sense and humanity (who have not heated themselves in the dis- pute,) there cannot possibly be any difference of opinion. All members of both houses of Parliament were unanimous in their condemnation of the odious and nonsensical prac- tice of working prisoners in the treadmill before trial. It had not one single advocate. Mr. Headlam and the magis- trates of the North Riding, in their eagerness to save a relic of their prison system, forgot themselves so far as to be entrusted with the power of putting prisoners to work before trial, with, their own consent — the legislature was, * We will not trust you,' — the severest practical rebuke ever received by any public body. We will leave it to others to determine whether it was deserved. We have no doubt the great body of magistrates meant well. They must have meant well — but they have been sadly misled, and have thrown odium on the subordinate administration of justice, which it is far from deserving on other occasions, in their hands. This strange piece of nonsense is, how- ever, now well ended — Requiescat in pace I * Ancient women, whether in or out of breeehes, will of course imagine that we are the enemies of the institutions of our country, because we are the admirers vf the institutions of for, and admirers cf, America— not taking our ideas from the overweeaimg vanity of the weaker part of the Americans themselves, but from what we have ob- served of their real energy or wisdom. It is very na- tural that we Scotch, who live in a little shabby scrag- gy corner of a remote island, with a climate which cannot ripen an apple, should be jealous of the aggres- sive pleasantry of more favoured people ; but that Americans, who have done so much for themselves, and received so much from nature, should be flung in- to such convulsions by English reviews and maga- zines, is really a bad specimen of Columbian juvenili- ty. We hardly dare to quote the following account of an American route, for fear of having our motives misrepresented, — and strongly suspect that there are but few Americans who could be brought to admit that a Philadelphia or Boston concern of this nature is not quite equal to the most brilliant assemblies of London or Paris. ' A tea party is a serious thing in this country ; and some of those at whicji I have been present in New York and else- where, have been on a very large scale. In the modern houses the two principal apartments are on the first floor, and commu- nicated by large folding doors, which on gala days throw wide their ample portals, converting the two apartments into one. At the largest party which I have seen, there were about thirty young ladies present, and more than as many gentlemen. Every sofa, chair, and footstool were occupied by the ladies, and little enough room some of them appeared to have after all. The gentlemen were obliged to be content with walking up and down, talking now with one lady, now with another. Tea was brought in by a couple of blacks, carrying large trays, one covered with cups, the other with cake. Slowly making the round, and retiring at intervals for additional supplies, the ladies were gradually gone over ; and after much patience the gentlemen began to enjoy the beverage " which cheers but not inebriates ; " still walking about, or leaning against the wall, with the cup and saucer in their hand. • As soon as the first course was over, the hospitable trays again entered, bearing a chaos of preserves — peaches, pineap- ple?, ginger, oranges, citrons, pears, &c. in tempting display. A few of the young gentlemen now accompanied the revolution of the trays, and sedulously attended to the pleasure of the ladies. The party was so numerous that the period between the commencement and the termination of the round was suffi- cient to justify anew solicitation : and so the ceremony conti- nued, with very little intermission, during the whole evening. Wine succeeded the preserves, and dried fruit followed the wine, which, in its turn, was supported by sandwiches, in name of supper, and a forlorn hope of confectionary and frost- work. I pitied the poor blacks who, like Tantalus, had such a profusion of dainties the whole evening at their finger-ends, without the possibility of partaking of them. A little music and dancing gave variety to the scene, — which, to some of us, was a source of considerable satisfaction; for when a number of ladies were on the floor, those who cared not for the dance had the pleasure of getting a seat. About eleven o'clock I did myself the honour of escorting a lady home, and was well pleased to have an excuse for escaping.' — Duncan's Travels, II. 279, 280. The coaches must be given up ; so must the roads, and so must the inns. They are of course what these accommodations are in all new countries*, and much like what English great-grandfathers talk about as ex- isting in this country at the first period of their recol- lection. The great inconvenience of American inns, however, in the eyes of all Englishmen, is one which more sociable travellers must feel less acutely — we mean the impossibility of being alone, of having a room separate from the rest of the company. There is nothing which an Englishman enjoys more than the pleasure of sulkiness, — of not being forced to hear a word from any body which may occasion to him the necessity of replying. It is not so much that Mr. Bull disdains to talk, as that Mr. Bull has nothing to say. His forefathers have been out of spirits for six or seven hundred yeaTs, and, seeing nothing but fog and vapour, he is out of spirits too ; and when there is no America : but circumstances differ. American institutions are too new, — English institutions are ready to our hands. If we were to build the house afresh, we might perhaps avail our- selves of the improvements of a new plan ; but we have have no sort of wish to pull down an excellent house, strong, warm and comfortable, because, upon second trial, we might be able to alter and amend it,— a principle which would perpetuate de- molition and destruction. Our plan, where circumstances are tolerable, is \ o sit down and enjoy ourselves. 140 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. selling or buying, or no business to settle, he prefers being alone and looking at the fire. If any gentleman was in distress, he would willingly lend an helping hand ; but he thinks it no part of neighbourhood to talk to a person because he happens to be near him In short, with many excellent qualities, it must be ac- knowledged, that the English are the most disagree able of all the nations of Europe, — more surly and mo rose, with less disposition to please, to exert them- selves for the good of society, to make small sacrifices, and to put themselves out of their way. They are content with Magna Charta and trial by jury ; and think they are not bound to excel the rest of the world in small behaviour, if they are superior to them in great institutions. We are terribly afraid that some Americans spit up- on the floor, even when that floor is covered by good carpets. Now, all claims to civilization are suspended till this secretion is otherwise disposed of. No En- glish gentleman has spit upon the floor since the Hep- tarchy. The curiosity for which the Americans are so much laughed at, is not only venial, but laudable. Where men live in woods or forests, as is the case, of course, in remote American settlements, it is the duty of every man to gratify the inhabitants by telling them his name, place, age, office, virtues, crimes, children, lortune, and remarks ; and with fellow-travellers, it seems to be almost a matter of necessity to do so. When men ride together for 300 or 400 miles through the woods and prairies, it is of the greatest importance that they should be able to guess at subjects most agreeable to each other, and to multiply their common topics. Without knowing who your companion is, it is difficult to know both what to say and what to avoid. You may talk of honour and virtue to an attor- ney, or contend with a Virginian planter that men of a fair colour have no right to buy and sell men of a dus- ky colour. The following is a lively description of the rights of interrogation, as understood and practis- ed in America. 4 As for the inquisitiveness of the Americans, I do not think it has been at all exaggerated.— They certainly are, they pro- fess to be, a very inquiring people ; and if we may sometimes be disposed to dispute the claims of their love of knowing to to the character of a liberal curiosity, we must at least admit that they make a most liberal use of every means in their power to gratify it. I have seldom, however, had any difficulty in repressing their home questions, if I wished it, and without offending them ; but I more frequently amused myself by put- ting them on the rack, civilly, and apparently unconsciously, eluded their inquiries for a time, and than awakening their gratitude by such a discovery of myself as I might choose to make. Sometimes a man would place himself at my side in the wilderness, and ride for a mile or two without the small- est communication between us, except a slight nod of the head. He would then, perhaps, make some grave remark on the weather, and if I assented, in a monosyllable, he would stick to my side for another mile or two, when he would commence his attack. " I reckon, stranger, you do not belong to these parts?"—" No, sir ; I am not of Alabama."— "I guess you are from the north ?"— No, sir ; I am not from the north."— "I guess you found the roads mighty muddy, and the creeks swimming. You are come a long way, I guess ?" — " No, not so very far ; we have travelled a few hundred miles since we turned our faces westward."—" I guess you have seen Mr. , or General ?" (mentioning the names of some well-known individuals in the middle and southern states, who were to serve as guide-posts to detect our route) ; but, " I have not the pleasure of knowing any of them," or, " I have the pleas- ure of knowing all," equally defeated his purpose, but not his hopes. " I reckon, stranger, you have had a good crop of cot- ton this year ?" — " I am told, sir, the crops have been unusu- ally abundant in Carolina and Georgia."—" You grow tobacco, then, I guess?" (to track me to Virginia.) "No; I do not grow tobacco." Here a modest inquirer would give up in de- spair, and trust to the chapter of accidents to develope my name and history ; but I generally rewarded his modesty, and excited his gratitude, by telling him I would torment him no longer. < The courage of a thorough-bred Yankee* would rise with his difficulties ; and after a decent interval, he would resume : " I hope no offence, sir ; but you know we Yankees lose noth- ing for want of asking. I guess, stranger, you are from the old * ' In America, the term Yankee is applied to the natives of New England only, and is generally used with an air of pleas- antry.' country ?"— " Well, my friend, you have guessed right at last, and I am sure you deserve something for your perseverance ; and now I suppose it will save us both trouble if I proceed to the second part of the story, and tell you where I am going. I am going to New Orleans." This is really no exaggerated picture : dialogues, not indeed in these very words, but to this effect, occurred continually; and some of them more minute and extended than I can venture upon in a letter. I ought, however, to say, that many questions lose much of their famil- iarity when travelling in the wilderness. " Where are you from?" and "whither are you bound?" do not appear imper- tinent interrogations at sea ; and often in the western wilds I found myself making inquiries which I should have thought very free and easy at home. -Hodgson's Letters, II. 32—35. In all new and distant settlements the forms of law must, of course, be very limited. No justice's warrant is current in the dismal swamp ; constables are ex- ceedingly puzzled in the neighbourhood of the Missis- sippi ; and there is no treadmill, either before or after trial, on the little Wabash. The consequence of this is, that the settlers take the law into their own hands, and give notice to a justice-proof delinquent to quit the territory ; if this notice is disobeyed, they assem- ble and whip the culprit, and this failing, on the se- cond visit, they cut off his ears. In short, Captain Rock has his descendants in America. Mankind can- not live together without some approximation to jus- tice ; and if the actual government will not govern well, or cannot govern well, is too wicked or too weak to do so — then men prefer Rock to anarchy. The fol- lowing is the best account we have seen of this system of irregular justice ; ' After leaving Carlyle, I took the Shawneetown road, that branches off to the S. E., and passed the Walnut Hills, and Moore's Prairie. These two places had a year or two before been infested by a notorious gang of robbers and forgers, who had fixed themselves in these wild parts in order to avoid jus- tice. As the country became more settled, these desperadoes became more and more troublesome. The inhabitants, there- fore, took that method of getting rid of them that had been adopted not many years ago in Hopkinson and Henderson counties, Kentucky, and which is absolutely necessary in new and thinly settled districts, where it is almost impossible to punish a criminal according to legal forms. 'On such occasions, therefore, all the quiet and industrious men of a district form themselves into companies, under the name of " Regulators." They appoint officers, put themselves under their orders, and bind themselves to assist and stand by each other. The first step they then take is to send notice to any notorious vagabonds, desiring them to quit the state in a certain number of days, under the penalty of receiving a domiciliary visit. Should the person who receives the notice refuse to comply, they suddenly assemble, and when unex- pected, go in the night time to the rogue's house, take him out, tie him to a tree, and give him a severe whipping every one of the party striking him a certain number of times. ' This discipline is generally sufficient to drive off the cul- prit; but should he continue obstinate, and refuse to avail himself of another warning, the Regulators pay him a second visit, inflict a still severer whipping, with the addition probably of cutting off both his ears. No culprit has been known to remain after a second visit. For instance, an old man, the father of a family, all of whom he educated as robbers, fixed himself at Moore's Prairie, and committed numerous thefts, &c. &c. He was hardy enough to remain after the first visit, when both he and his sons received a severe whipping. At the second visit the Regulators punished him very severely, and cut off his ears. This drove him off, together with his whole gang ; and travellers can now pass in perfect safety where it was once dangerous to travel alone. ' There is also a company of Regulators near Vincennes, who have broken up a notorious gang of coiners and thieves who had fixed themselves near that place. These rascals, before they were driven off, had parties settled at different distances in the woods, and thus held communication and passed horses and stolen goods from one to another, from the Ohio to Lake Erie, and from thence into Canada or the New England States. Thus it was next to impossible to detect the robbers, or to recover the stolen property. ' This practice of Regulating seems very strange to an Euro- pean. I have talked with some of the chief men of the Regu- lators, who all lamented the necessity of such a system. They very sensibly remarked, that when the country became more thickly settled, there would no longer be any necessity for such proceedings, and that they should all be delighted at being able to obtain justice in a more formal manner. I forgot to mention, that the rascals punished, have sometimes prose- cuted the Regulators for an assault. The juries, however, knowing the bad character of the prosecutors, would give but trifling damages, which, divided among so many, amounted to next to nothing for each individual.'— -Excursion, pp. 233—836. AMERICA. 141 The same traveller mentions his having met at ta- ble three or four American ex-kings — presidents who had served their time, and had retired into private life ; he observes also upon the effect of a democrati- cal government in preventing mobs. Mobs are created by opposition to the wishes of the people : but when the wishes of the people are consulted so completely as they are consulted in America, all motives for the agency of mobs are done away. 'It is, indeed, entirely a government of opinion. Whatever the people wish is done. If they want any alterations of laws, tariffs, &c, they inform their representatives, and if there be a majority that wish it, the alteration is made at once. In most European countries there is a portion of the population denominated the mob, who, not being acquainted with real liberty, give themselves up to occasional fits of licentiousness. But in the United States there is no mob, for every man feels himself free. At the time of Burr's conspiracy, Mr. Jefferson said, that there was little to be apprehended from it, as every man felt himself a part of the general sovereignty. The event proved the truth of this assertion ; and Burr, who in any other country would have been hanged, drawn, and quartered, is at present leading an obscure life in the city of New York, de- spised by every one.' — Excursion, p. 70. It is a real blessing for Am erica to be exempted from that vast burthen of taxes, the consequences of a long series of foolish, just, and necessary wars, carried on to please kings and queens, or the waiting maids and waiting lords and gentlemen, who have always go- verned kings and queens of the Old World. The Americans owe this good to the newness of their go- vernment ; and though there are few classical associ- ations, or historical recollections in the United States, this barrenness is well purchased by the absence of all the feudal nonsense, inveterate abuses, and profligate debts of an old country. 1 The good effects of a free government are visible through- out the whole country. There are no tithes, no poor-rates, no excise, no heavy internal taxes, no commercial monopolies. An American can make candles if he have tallow, can distil brandy if he have grapes or peaches, and can make beer if he have malt and hops, without asking leave of any one, and much less with any fear of incurring punishment. How would a farmer's wife there be astonished, if told that it was contrary to law for her to make soap out of the potass obtained on the farm, and of the grease she herself had saved ! When an American has made these articles, he may build his little ves- sel, and take them without hindrance to any part of the world ; for there is no rich company of merchants that can say to him, " You shall not trade to India ; and you shall not buy a pound of tea of the Chinese ; as, by doing so, you would infringe upon our privileges." In consequence of this freedom, all the seas are covered with their vessels, and the people at home are active and independent. I never saw a beggar in any part of the United States ; nor was I ever asked for charity but once — and that was by an Irishman.' — Excursion, pp. 70, 71. America is so differently situated from the old go- vernments of Europe, that the United States afford no political precedents that are exactly applicable to our old governments. There is no idle and discontented population. When they have peopled themselves up to the Mississippi, they cross to the Missouri, and will go on until they are stopped by the Western Ocean ; and then, when there are a number of persons who have nothing to do, and nothing to gain, no hope for lawful industry and great interest in promoting chang- es, we may consider their situation as somewhat si- milar to our own, and their example as touching us more nearly. The changes in the constitution of the particular states seem to be very frequent, very radical, and to us very alarming ; — they seem, how- ever, to be thought very little of in that country, and to be very little heard of in Europe. Mr. Duncan, in the following passage, speaks of them with European feelings. ■ The other great obstacle to the prosperity of the American nation, universal suffrage,* will not exhibit the full extent of its evil tendency for a long time to come ; and it is possible that ere that time some antidote may be discovered, to pre- vent or alleviate the mischief which we might naturally expect * In the greater number of the States, every white person, 21 years of age, who has paid taxes for one year, is a voter ; in others, some additional qualifications are required, but they are not such as materially to limit the privilege. from it. It does, however, seem ominous of evil, that so little ceremony is at present used with the constitutions of the vari- ous states. The people of Connecticut, not contented with having prospered abundantly under their old system, have lately assembled a convention, composed of delegates from all parts of the country, in which the former order of things hat been condemned entirely, and a completely new constitution manufactured ; which, among other things, provides for the same process being again gone through, as soon as the prof a- numvulgus takes it into his head to desire it.* A sorry legacy the British Constitution would be to us, if it were at the mercy of a meeting of delegates, to be summoned whenever a majo- rity of the people took a fancy for a new one ; and I am afraid that if the Americans continue to cherish a fondness for such repairs, the Highlandman's pistol, with its new stock, lock, and barrel, will bear a close resemblance to what is ultimately produced.' — Duncan's Travels, II. 335, 336. In the Excursion there is a list of the American na- vy, which, in conjunction with the navy of France, will one day or another, we fear, settle the Catholic question in a way not quite agreeable to the Earl of Liverpool for the time being, nor very creditable to the wisdom of those ancestors of whom we hear, and from whom we suffer so much. The regulations of the American navy seem to be admirable. The states are making great exertions to increase this navy ; and since the capture of so many English ships, it has become the favourite science of the people at large. Their flotillas on the lakes completely defeated ours during the last war. Fanaticism of every description seems to rage and flourish in America, which has no establishment, in about the same degree which it does here under the nose of an established church ; they have their prophets and prophetesses, their preaching encampments, female preachers, and every variety of noise, folly, and non- sense, like ourselves. Among the most singular of these fanatics, are the Harmonites. Rapp, their foun- der, was a dissenter from the Lutheran church, and therefore, of course, the Lutheran clergy of Stutgard (near to which he lived) began to put Mr. Rapp in white sheets, to prove him guilty of theft, parricide, treason, and all the usual crimes of which men dis- senting from established churches are so often guilty ; and delicate hints were given respecting faggots ! Stutgard abounds with underwood and clergy ; and — away went Mr. Rapp to the United States, and, with a great multitude of followers, settled about twenty- four miles from our countryman Mr. Birkbeck. His people have here built a large town, and planted a vineyard, where they make very agreeable wine. They carry on also a very extensive system of hus- bandry, and are the masters of many flocks and herds. They have a distillery, brewery, tannery, make hats, shoes, cotton and woollen cloth, and every thing ne- cessary to the comfort of life. Every one belongs to some particular trade. But in bad weather, when there is danger of losing their crops, Rapp blows a horn, and calls them all together. Over every trade there is a head man, who receives the money and gives a receipt, signed by Rapp, to whom all the money collected is transmitted. When any of these workmen wants a hat or a coat, Rapp signs him an order for the gar- ment, for which he goes to the store and is fitted. They have one large store where these manufactures are deposited. This store is much resorted to by the neighbourhood, on account of the goodness and the cheapness of the articles. They have built an excel- lent house for their founder, Rapp— as it might have been predicted they would have done. The Harmo- nites profess equality, community of goods, and celi- bacy ; for the men and women (let Mr. Malthus hear this) live separately, and are not allowed the slightest intercourse. In order to keep up their numbers, they have once or twice sent over for a supply of Germans, as they admit no Americans, of any intercourse with whom they are very jealous. Harmonites dress and live plainly. It is a part of their creed that they should do so. Rapp, however, and the head men have no such particular creed for themselves ; and indulge in wine, beer, grocery, and other irreligious diet. Rapp * The people of the State of New York have subsequently taken a similar fancy to clout the cauldron. (1822.) 142 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. is both governor and priest ;— preaches to them in church, and directs all their proceedings in their working hours. In short, Rapp seems to have made use of the religious propensities of mankind, to per- suade one or two thousand fools to dedicate their lives to his service ; and if they do not get tired and fling their prophet into a horse-pond, they will in all proba- bility disperse as soon as he dies. Unitarians are in- creasing very fast in the United States, not being kept down by charges from bishops and archdeacons, their natural enemies. The author of the Excursion remarks upon the total absence of all games in America. No cricket, foot- ball, nor leap-frog — all seems solid and profitable. • One thing that I could not help remarking with regard to the Americans in general, is the total want of all those games and sports which obtained for our country the appellation of " Merry England." Although children usually transmit stories and sports from one generation to another, and although many of our nursery games and tales are supposed to have been im- ported into England in the vessels of Hengist and Horsa, yet our brethren in the United States seem entirely to have forgot- ten the childish amusements of our common ancestors. In America I never saw even the schoolboys playing at any game whatsoever. Cricket, foot-ball, quoits, &c, appear to be utter- ly unknown ; and I believe that if an American were to see grown-up men playing at cricket, he would express as much astonishment as the Italians did when some Englishmen played at this finest of all games in the Cascina, at Florence. Indeed, that joyous spirit which, in our country, animates not only childhood, but also maturer age, can rarely or never be seen among the inhabitants of the United States.' — Excursion, pp. 502, 503. These are some of the leading and prominent cir- cumstances respecting America, mentioned in the va- rious works before us : of which works we can recom- mend the Letters of Mr. Hudson, and the Excursion into Canada, as sensible, agreeable books, written in a very fair spirit. America seems on the whole, to be a country pos- sessing vast advantages, and little inconveniences ; they have a cheap government and bad roads ; they ?ay no tithes, and have stage coaches without springs, 'hey have no poor laws and no monopolies — but their inns are inconvenient, and travellers are teased with questions. They have no collections in the fine arts ; but they have no lord-chancellor, and they can go to law without absolute ruin. They cannot make Latin verses, but they expend immense sums in the educa- tion of the poor. In all this the balance is prodigiously in their favour : but then comes the great disgrace and danger of America — the existence of slavery, which, if not timously corrected, will one day entail f and ought to entail) a bloody servile war upon the Americans — which will separate America into slave states and states disclaiming slavery, and which re- mains at present as the foulest blot in the moral cha- racter of that people. A high-spirited nation, who cannot endure the slightest act of foreign aggression, and who revolt at the very shadow of domestic tyran- ny — beat with cart whips, and bind with chains, and murder for the merest trifles, wretched human beings who are of a more dusky colour than themselves ; and have recently admitted into their Union a new state, with the express permission of ingrafting this atro- cious wickedness into their constitution ! No one can admire the simple wisdom and manly firmness of the Americans more than we do, or more despise the piti- ful propensity which exists among government run- ners to vent their small spite at their character ; but on the subject of slavery, the conduct of America is, and has been, most reprehensible. It is impossible to speak of it with too much indignation and contempt ; but for it, we should look forward with unqualified pleasure to such a land of freedom, and such a magni- ficent spectacle of human happiness. BENTHAM ON FALLACIES. (Edinburgh Re, view, 1825.) The Book of Fallacies : from Unfinished Papers of Jeremy Bentham. By a Friend. London, J. and H. L. Hunt. 1824 There are a vast number of absurd and mischie- vous fallacies, which pass readily in the world for sense and virtue, while in truth they tend only to for- tify error and encourage crime. Mr. Bentham has enumerated the most conspicuous of these in the book before us. Whether it is necessary there should be a middle- man between the cultivator and possessor, learned economists have doubted ; but neither gods, men, nor booksellers can doubt the necessity of a middle-man between Mr. Bentham and the public. Mr. Bentham is long ; Mr. Bentham is occasionally involved and obscure ; Mr. Bentham invents new and alarming ex- pressions ; Mr. Bentham loves division and subdivi- sion — and he loves method itself more than its conse- quences. Those only, therefore, who know his origi- nality, his knowledge, his vigour, and his boldness, will recur to the works themselves. The great mass of readers will not purchase improvement at so dear a rate ; but will choose rather to become acquainted with Mr. Bentham, through the medium of reviews — after that eminent philosopher has been washed, trimmed, shaved, and forced into clean linen. One great use of a review, indeed, is to make men wise in ten pages, who have no appetite for a hundred pages ; to condense nourishment, to work with pulp and es- sence, and to guard the stomach from idle burden and unmeaning bulk. For half a page, sometimes for a whole page, Mr, Bentham writes with a power which few can equal ; and by selecting and omitting, an ad- mirable style may be formed from the text. Using this liberty, we shall endeavour to give an account of Mr. Bentham's doctrines, for the most part in his own words. Wherever any expression is particularly hap- py let it be considered to be Mr. Bentham's — the dull- ness we take to ourselves. Our Wise Ancestors — the Wisdom of our Ancestors — the Wisdom of Ages — venerable Antiquity — Wisdom of Old Times. — This mischievous and absurd fallacy springs from the grossest perversions of the meaning of words. Experience is certainly the mother of wis- dom, and the old have, of course, a greater experience than the young; but the question is, who are the old? and who are the young ? Of individuals living at the same period, the oldest has, of course the greatest ex- perience ; but among generations of men the reverse of this is true. Those who come first (our ancestors) are the young people, and have the least experience. We have added to their experience the experience of many centuries ; and, therefore, as far as experience goes, are wiser, and more capable of forming an opi- nion than they were. The real feeling should be, not can we be so presumptuous as to put our opinions in opposition to those of our ancestors ? but can such young, ignorant, inexperienced persons as our ances- tors necessarily were, be expected to have understood a subject as well as those who have seen so much more, lived so much longer, and enjoyed the experi- ence of so many centuries? All this cant, then, about our ancestors is merely an abuse of words, by trans- ferring phrases true of contemporary men to succeed- ing ages. Whereas (as we have before observed) of living men the oldest has, cazteris paribus, the most ex- perience ; of generations, the oldest has, cceteris pari- bus, the least experience. Our ancestors, up to the Conquest, were children in arms ; chubby boys in the time of Edward the First ; striplings under Elizabeth ; men in the reign of Queen Anne ; and we only are the white-bearded silver-headed ancients, who have trea- sured up, and are prepared to profit by, all the expe- rience which human life can supply. We are not dis- puting with our ancestors the palm of talent, in which they may or may not be our superiors, but the palm of experience, in which it is utterly impossible they can be our superiors. And yet, whenever the chancellor comes forward to protect some abuse, or to oppose some plan which has the increase of human happiness for its object, his first appeal is always to the wisdom BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES. 143 of our ancestors j and he himself, and many noble lords who vote with him, are, to this hour, persuaded that all alterations and amendments on their devices are an unblushing controversy between youthful te- merity and mature experience [—and so, in truth, they are — only that much-loved magistrate mistakes the young for the old, and the old for the young — and is guilty of that very sin against experience which he at- tributes to the lovers of innovation. We cannot of course be supposed to maintain that our ancestors wanted wisdom, or that they were ne- cessarily mistaken in their institutions, because their means of information were more limited than ours. But we do confidently maintain that when we find it expedient to change any thing which our ancestors have enacted, we are the experienced persons, and not they. The quantity of talent is always varying in any great nation. To say that we are more or less able than our ancestors, is an assertion that requires to be explained. All the able men of all ages, who have ever lived in England, probably possessed, if taken altogether, more intellect than all the able men now in England can boast of. But if authority must be resorted to rather than reason, the question is, what was the wisdom of that single age which enact- ed the law, compared with the wisdom of the age which proposes to alter it ? What are the eminent mert of the one and the other period ? If you say that our ancestors were wiser than us, mention your date and year. If the splendour of names is equal, are the circumstances the same ? If the circumstances are the same, we have a superiority of experience, of which the difference between the two periods is the measure. It is necessary to insist upon this ; for upon sacks of wool and on benches forensic, sit grave men, aud agricolous persons in the Commons, crying out ' Ancestors, Ancestors! hodie non! Saxons, Danes, save us I Fiddlefrig, help us .' Howel, Ethelwolf , protect us.' — Any cover for nonsense — any veil for trash — any pretext for repelling the innovations of conscience and of duty ! • So long as they keep to vague generalities — so long as the two objects of comparison are each of them taken in the lump — wise ancestors in one lump, ignorant and foolish mob of mod- ern times in the other — the weakness of the fallacy may es- cape detection. But let them assign for the period of superior wisdom any determinate period whatsoever, not only will the groundlessness of the notion be apparent (class being compar- ed with class in that period and the present one), but, unless the antecedent period be comparatively speaking a very mod- ern one, so wide will be the disparity, and to such an amount in favour of modern times, that, in comparison of the lowest class of the people in modern times, (always supposing them proficients in the art of reading, and their proficiency employ- ed in the reading of newspapers), the very highest and best informed class of these wise ancestors will turn out to be grossly ignorant. ' Take, for example, any year in the reign of Henry the Eighth, from 1509 to 1546. At that time the House of Lords would probably have been in possession of by far the larger proportion of what little instruction the age afforded : in the House of Lords, among the laity, it might even then be a ques- tion whether, without exception, their lordships were all of them able so much as to read. But even supposing them all in the fullest possession of that useful art, political science be- ing the science in question, what instruction on the subject could they meet with at that time of day ? ' On no one branch of legislation was any book extant from which, with regard to the circumstances of the then present times, any useful instruction could be derived : distributive law, penal law, international law, political economy, so far from existing as sciences, had scarcely obtained a name : in all those departments, under the head of quid faciendum, a mere blank : the whole literature of the age consisted of a meagre chronicle or two, containing short memorandums of the usual occurrences of war and peace, battles, sieges, executions, rev- els, deaths, births, processions, ceremonies, and other external events ; but with scarce a speech or an incident that could en- ter into the composition of any such work as a history of the human mind — with scarce an attempt at investigation into causes, characters, or the state of the people at large. Even when at last, little by little, a scrap or two of political instruc- tion came to be obtainable, the proportion of error and mis- chievous doctrine mixed up with it was so great, that whether a blank unfilled might not have been less prejudicial than a blank thus filled, may reasonably be matter of doubt. •If we come down to the reign of James the First, we shall find that Solomon of his tim« eminently eloquent as well as learned, not only among crowned but among uncrowned heads, marking out for prohibition and punishment the practices of devils and witches, and without any the slightest objection ok the part of the great characters of that day in their high situa- tions, consigning men to death and torment for the misfortune of not being so well acquainted as he was with the composition of the Godhead. • Under the name of exorcism the Catholic liturgy contains a form of procedure for driving out devils j — even with the help of this instrument, the operation cannot be performed with the desired success, but by an operator qualined by holy or- ders for the working of this as well as so many other wond- ers. In our days and in our country the same object is attain- ed, and beyond comparison more effectually, by so cheap an instrument as a common newspaper : before this talisman, not only devils but ghosts, vampires, witches, and all their kindred tribes, are driven out of the land, never to return again ! The touch of the holy water is not so intolerable to them as the bare smell of printers' ink. — (pp. 74 — 77.) Fallacy of irrevocable Laws. — A law, says Mr. Ben- tham, (no matter to what effect), is proposed to a le- gislative assembly, who are called upon to reject it, upon the single ground, that by those who in some former period exercised the same power, a regulation was made, having for its object to preclude for ever, or to the end of an unexpired period, all succeeding le- gislators from enacting a law to any such effect as that now proposed. Now it appears quite evident that, at every period of time, every legislature must be endowed with all those powers which the exigency of the times may re- quire : and any attempt to infringe on this power is inadmissible and absurd. The sovereign power, at any one period, can only form a blind guess at the measures which may be necessary for any future pe- riod : but by this principle of immutable laws, the go- vernment is transferred from those who are necessari- ly the best judges of what they want, to others who can know little or nothing about the matter. The thirteenth century decides for the fourteenth. The fourteenth makes laws for the fifteenth. The fifteenth hermetically seals up the sixteenth, which tyrannizes over the seventeenth, which again tells the eighteentn how it is to act, under circumstances which cannot be foreseen, and how it is to conduct itself in exigencies which no human wit can anticipate. • Men who have a century more of experience to ground their judgments on, surrender their intellect to men who had a century less experience, and who, unless that deficiency con- stitutes a claim, have no claim to preference. If the prior gentleman were, in respect of intellectual qualification, ever so much superior to the subsequent generation — if it under stood so much better than the subsequent generation itself the interest of that subsequent generation — could it have been in an equal degree anxious to promote the interest, and conse- quently equally attentive to those facts with which, though in order to form a judgment it ought to have been, it is impossi- ble that it should have been acquainted? In a word, will its love for that subsequent generation be quite so great as that same generation's love for itself? 4 Not even here, after a moment's deliberate reflection, will the assertion be in the affirmative. And yet it is their prodi- gious anxiety for the welfare of their posterity that produces the propensity of these sages to tie up the hands of this same posterity for evermore— to act as guardians to its perpetual and incurable weakness, and take its conduct for ever out of its own hands. 4 If it be right that the conduct of the 19th century should be determined not by its own judgment, but by that of the 18th, it will be equally right that the conduct of the 20th cen- tury should be determined, not by its own judgment, but by that of the 19th. And if the same principle were still pursued, what at length would be the consequence? — that in process of time the practice of legislation would be at an end. The con- duct and fate of all men would be determined by those who neither knew nor cared any thing about the matter ; and the aggregate body of the living would remain for ever in subjec- tion to an inexorable tyranny, exercised as it were by the ag- gregate body of the dead.' — (pp. 84 — 86.) The despotism, as Mr. Bentham well observes, of Nero or Caligula, would be more tolerable than an ir- revocable law. The despot, through fear or favour, or in a lucid interval, might relent ; but how are the Par- liament, who made the Scotch Union, for example, 10 be awakened from that dust in which they repose — the jobber and the patriot, the speaker and: the door- keeper, the silent voters and the men of rich allusions 144 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. — Cannings and cultivators, Barings and Beggars- making irrevocable laws for men who toss their re- mains abcut with spades, and use the relics of these legislators to give breadth to brocoli, and to aid the vernal eruption of asparagus ? If the law is good, it will support itself; if bad, it should not be supported by the irrevocable theory, which is never resorted to but as the veil of abuses. All living men must possess the supreme power over their own happiness at every particular period. To suppose that there is any thing which a whole nation cannot do, which they deem to be essential to their happiness, and thatr-they cannot do it, because anoth- er generation, long ago dead and gone, said it must not be done, is mere nonsense. While you are captain of the vessel, do what you please ; but the moment you quit the ship, I become as omnipotent as you. You may leave me as much advice as you please, but you cannot leave me commands ; though, in fact, this is the only meaning which can be applied to what are called irrevocable laws. It appeared to the legislature for the time being to be of immense importance to make such and such a law. Great good was gained, or great evil avoided by enacting it. Pause before you alter an institution which has been deemed to be of so much importance. This is prudence and com- mon sense ; the rest is the exaggeration of fools, or the artifice of knaves, who eat up fools. What end- less nonsense has been talked of our navigation laws ! What wealth has been sacrificed to either before they were repealed ! How impossible it appeared to Noodledom to repeal them ! They were considered of the irrevocable class — a kind of law over which the dead were only omnipotent, and the living had no power. Frost, it is true, cannot be put ofF by act of Parliament, nor can spring be accelerated by any majority of both houses. It is, however, quite a mis- take to suppose that any alterations of any of the arti- cles of union is as much out of the jurisdiction of Parlia- ment as these meteorological changes. In every year, and every day of that year, living men have a right to make their own laws, and manage their own affairs ; to break through the tyranny of the ante-spirants — the people who breathed before them, and to do what they please for themselves. Such supreme power cannot, indeed, be well exercised by the people at large; it must be exercised therefore by the delegates, or Parliament whom the people choose; and such Parliament, disregarding the superstitious reverence for irrevocable laws, can have no other criterion of wrong and right than that of public utility. When a law is considered as immutable, and the immutable Law happens at the same time to be too foolish and mischievous to be endured, instead of be- ing repealed, it is clandestinely evaded, or openly vi- olated ; and thus the authority of all law is weak- ened. Where a nation has been ancestorially bound by foolish and improvident treaties, ample notice must be given of their termination. Where the state has made ill-advised grants, or rash bargains with individuals, it is necessary to grant proper compensation. The most difficult case, certainly, is that of the union of nations, where a smaller number of the weaker nation is admitted into the larger senate of the greater nation, and will be overpowered if the question comes to a vote ; but the lesser nation must run this risk : it is not probable that any violation of articles will take place, till they are absolutely called for by extreme necessity. But let the danger be what it may, no danger is so great, no supposition so foolish, as to consider any human law as irrevocable. The shifting attitude of human affairs would often render such a condition an intolerable evil to all parties. The ab- surd jealousy of our countrymen at the union secured heritable jurisdiction to the owners ; nine and thirty years afterwards they were abolished, in the very teeth of the act of union, and to the evident promo- tion of the public good. Continuity of a Law by Oath. — The sovereign of England at his coronation takes an oath to maintain the laws of God, the true profession of the gospel, and the Protestant religion as established by law, and to preserve to the bishops and clergy of this realm the rights and privileges which by law appertain to them, and to preserve inviolate the doctrine, discipline, worship, and government, of the church. It has been suggested that by this oath the king stands precluded from granting those indulgences to the Irish Catholics, which are included in the bill for their emancipation. The true meaning of these provisions is of course to be decided, if doubtful, by the same legislative author- ity which enacted them. But a different notion it seems is now afloat. The king for the time being (we are putting an imaginary case) thinks as an indi- vidual, that he is not maintaining the doctrine, disci- pline, and rights of the Church of England, if he grants any extension of civil rights to those who are not members of that church, that he is violating his oath by so doing. This oath, then, according to this reasoning, is the great palladium of the church. As long as it remains inviolate the church is safe. How, then, can any monarch who has taken it ever consent to repeal it ? How can he, consistently with his oath for the preservation of the privileges of the church, contribute his part to throw down so strong a bulwark as he deems his oath to be ? The oath, then, cannot be altered. It must remain under all circumstances of society the same. The king, who has taken it, is bound to continue it, and to refuse his sanction to any Dill for its further alteration ; because it prevents him, and he must needs think, will prevent others from granting dangerous immunities to the enemies of the church. Here, then, is an irrevocable law — a piece of absurd tyranny exercised by the rulers of Queen Anne's time upon the government of 1825 — a certain art of potting and preserving a kingdom, in one shape, attitude, and flavour — and in this way it is that an institution ap- pears like old Ladies' Sweetmeats and made Wines — Apricot Jam 1822— Currant Wine 1819— Court of Chan- cery 1427— Penal Laws against Catholics 1676. The difference is, that the ancient woman is a better judge of mouldy commodities than the illiberal part of his majesty's ministers. The potting lady goes sniffing about and admitting light and air to prevent the pro- gress of decay ; while to him of the woolsack, all seems doubly dear in proportion as it is antiquated, worthless, and unusable. It ought not to be in the power of the sovereign to tie up his own hands, much less the hands of his successors. If the sovereign is to oppose his own opinion to that of the two other branches of the legislature, and himself to decide what he considers to be for the benefit of the Protestant church, and what not, a king who has spent his whole life in the frivolous occupation of a court, may, by perversion of understanding, conceive measures most salutary to the church to be most pernicious ; and per- severing obstinately in his own error, may frustrate the wisdom of his Parliament, and perpetuate the most inconceivable folly ! If Henry VIII. had argued in this manner, we should have had no reformation. If George III. had always argued in this manner, the Catholic code would never have been relaxed. And thus, a king, however incapable of forming an opinion upon serious subjects, has nothing to do but to pro- nounce the word conscience, and the whole power of the country is at his feet. Can there be greater absurdity than to say that a man is acting contrary to his conscience who surren- ders his opinion upon any subject to those who must understand the subject better than himself? I think my ward has a claim to the estate ; but the best law- yers tell me he has none. I think my son capable of undergoing the fatigues of a military life ; but the best physicians say he is much too weak. My Parlia- ment say this measure will do no harm ; but I think it very pernicious to the church. Am I acting contra- ry to my conscience because I apply much higher in- tellectual powers than my own to the investigation and protection of these high interests ? 1 According to the form in which it is conceived, any such engagement is in effect either a check or a license : — a li- cense under the appearance of a check, and for that very reason but the more efficiently operative. < Chains to the man in power ? Yes :— but only such as BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES. he figures with on the stage : to the spectators as imposing, to himself as light as possible. Modelled by the wearer to suit his own purposes, they serve to rattle, but not to re- strain. ' Suppose a king of Great Britain and Ireland to have ex- pressed his fixed determination, in the event of any proposed law being tendered to him for his assent, to refuse such as- sent, and this not on the persuasion that he law would not be " for the utility of the subjects," but that by his corona- tion oath he stands precluded from so doing : — the course pointed out by principle and precedent, would be, a vote of abdication :— a vote declaring the king to have abdicated his royal authority, and that, as in case of death or incurable mental derangement, now is the time for the person next in succession to take his place. 1 In the celebrated case in which a vote to this effect was actually passed, the declaration of abdication was in law- yers' language a fiction — in plain truth a falsehood — and that falsehood a mockery ; not a particle of his power was it the wish of James to abdicate, to part with ; but to in- crease it to a maximum was the manifest object of all his efforts. But in the case here supposed, with respect to a part, and that a principal part of the royal anthority, the will and purpose to abdicate aie actually declared : and this, beingsuch apart, without which the remainder cannot, "to the utility of the subjects," be exercised, the remainder must of necessity be, on their part and for their sake, ad- ded.'— (pp. 110, 111.) Self-trumpeter's fallacy. —Mr. Bentham explains the self-trumpeter's fallacy as follows : ' There are certain men in office who, in discharge of their functions, arrogateto themselves a degree of probity, which is to exclude all imputations and all inquiry. Their asser- tions are to be deemed equivalent to proof; their virtues are guarantees for the faithful discharge of their duties ; and the most implicit confidence is to be reposed in them on all occa- sions. If you expose any abuse, propose any reform, call for securities, inquiry, or measures to promote publicity, they set up a cry of surprise, amounting almost to indignation, as if their integrity were questioned, or their honour wounded. With all this, they dexterously mix up intimations, that the most exalted patriotism, honour, and perhaps religion, are the only sources of all their actions.'— (p. 120.) Of course every man will try what he can effect by tLese means ; but (as Mr. Bentham observes) if there be any one maxim in politics more certain than an- other, it is that no possible degree of virtue in the governor can render it expedient for the governed to dispense with good la^vs and good institutions. Ma- dame de Stael (to her disgrace) said to the Emperor of Russia, ' Sire, your character is a constitution for your country, and your conscience its guarantee.' His reply was, ' Quand cela serait, je ne serais jamais qu'un accident heureux ;' and this we think one of the truest and most brilliant replies ever made by mo- narch. Laudatory Personalities. — ' The object of laudatory per- sonalities is to effect the rejection of a measure on account of the alleged good character of those who oppose it ; and the argument advanced is, " The measure is rendered un necessary by the virtue of those who are in power — their opposition is sufficient authority for the rejection of the measure. The measure proposed implies a distrust of the members of his majesty's government; but so great is their integrity, so complete their disinterestedness, so uniformly do they prefer the public advantage to their own, that such a measure is altogether unnecessary. Their disapproval is sufficient to warrant an opposition ; precautions can only be requisite where clanger is apprehended ; here, the high cha- racter of the individuals in question is a sufficient guarantee against any ground of alarm." ' — (pp. 123, 124.) The panegyric goes on increasing with the dignity of the lauded person. All are honourable and delight- ful men. The person who opens the door of the office is a person of approved fidelity; the junior clerk is a model of assiduity ; all the clerks are models — seven years' models, nine years' models and upwards. The first clerk is a paragon — and ministers the very per- fection of probity and intelligence ; and as for the highest magistrate of the state, no adulation is equal to describe the extent of his various merits ! It is too condescending, perhaps, to refute such folly as this. But we would just observe that if the propriety of the measure in question be established by direct argu- ments, these must be at least as conclusive against the character of those who oppose it, as their character can be against the measure. The effect of such an argument is . to give men of good or reputed good character, the power of putting a negative on any question — not agreeable tc their in- inclinations. < In every public trust, the legislator should, for the pur- pose of prevention, suppose the trustee disposed to break the trust in every imaginable way in which it would be possible for him to reap, from the breach of it, any personal advantage. This is the principle on which public institu- tions ought to be formed ; and when it is applied to all men. indiscriminately, it is injurious to none. The practical in- ference is, to opposeto such possible, (and what will alwaysbe probable) breaches of trust, every bar that can be opposed, consistently with the power requisite for the efficient and due discharge of the trust. Indeed, these arguments, drawn from the supposed virtues of men in power, are opposed to the first principles on which all laws proceed. ' Such allegations of individual virtue are neversupported by specific proof, are scarce ever susceptible of specific dis- proof ; and specific disproof, if offered, could not be ad- mitted in either house of Parliament. If attempted else- where, the punishment would fall, not on the unworthy trustee, but on him by whom the unworthiness had been proved.'— (pp. 125, 12G.) Fallacies of pretended Banger. — Imputation of bad design — of bad character — of bad motives — of incon- sistency — of suspicious connections. The object of this class of fallacies is to draw aside attention from the measure to the man, and this in such a manner, that, for some real or supposed defect in the author of the measure, a corresponding defect shall be imputed to the measure itself. Thus ' the author of the measure entertains a bad design ; there- fore the measure is bad. His character is bad, there- fore the measure is bad ; his motive is bad, I will vote against the measure. On former occasions, this same person who proposed the measure was its enemy, therefore the measure is bad. He is on a footing of intimacy with this or that dangerous man, or has been seen in his company, or is suspected of entertaining some of his opinions, therefore the measure is bad. He bears a name that at a former period was borne by a set of men now no more, by whom bad principles were entertained — therefore the measure is bad ." Now, if the measure be really inexpedient, why not at once show it to be so ? If the measure is good, is it bad because a bad man is its author ? If bad, is it good because a good man has produced it ? What are these arguments, but to say to the assembly who are to be the judges of any measure, that their imbecility is too great to allow them to judge of the measure by its own merits, and that they must have recourse to distant and feebler probabilities for that purpose ? 'In proportion to the degree of efficiency with which a man suffers these instruments of deception to operate upon his mind, he enables bad men to exercise over him a sort of power, the thought of which ought to cover him with shame. Allow this argument the effect of a conclusive one, you put into the power of any man to draw you at pleasure from the support of every measure, which in your own eyes is good, to force you to give your support to any and every measure which in your own eyes is bad. Is it good ? — the bad man embraces it, and, by the supposition, you reject it. Is it bad 1 — he vitupe- rates it, and that suffices for driving you into its embrace. You split upon the rocks, because he has avoided them ; you miss the harbour, because he has steered into it? Give yourself up to any such blind antipathy, you are no less in the power of your adversaries, than if, by a correspondently irra- tional sympathy and obsequiousness, you put yourself into the power of your friends.' — (pp. 132, 133.) 'Besides, nothing but laborious application, and a clear and comprehensive intellect, can enable a man, on any giver sub- ject, to employ successfully relevant arguments drawn from the subject itself. To employ personalities, neither labour nor intellect is required. In this sort of contest, the most idle and the most ignorant are quite on a par with, if not superior to, the most industrious and the most highly gifted individuals. Nothing can be more convenient for those who would speak without the trouble of thinking. The same ideas are brought forward over and over again, and all that is required is to vary the turn of expression. Close and relevant arguments have very little hold on the passions, and serve rather to quell than to inflame them ; while in personalities there is always something stimulant, whether on the part of him who praises or him who blames. Praise forms a kind of oonnection between the party praising and the party praised, and vituperation gives an air of courage and independence to the party who bl 140 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. * Ignorance and indolence, friendship and enmity, concurring and conflicting interest, servility and independence, all conspire to give personalities the ascendency they so unhappily main- tain. The more we lie under the influence of our own passions, the more we rely on others being affected in a similar degree. A man who can repel these injuries with dignity, may often con- vert them into triumph : " Strike me, but hear," says he, and the fury of his antagonist redounds to his own discomfiture.' — (pp, 141, 142.) No Innovation ! — To say that all new things are bad, is to say that all old things were bad in their commencement : for of all the old things ever seen or heard of, there is not one that was not once new. Whatever is now establishment was once inn ovation. The first innovator of pews and parish clerks was no doubt considered as a Jacobin in his day. Judges, juries, criers of the court, are all the inventions of ardent spirits, who filled the world with alarm, and were considered as the great precursors of ruin and dissolution. No inoculation, no turnpikes, no reading, no writing, no popery ! The fool sayeth in his heart, and crieth with his mouth, ' I will have nothing new ." Fallacy of Distrust. — ' What's at the Bottom? 1 — This fallacy begins with a virtual admission of the propriety of the measure considered in itself, and thus demonstrates its own futility, and cuts up from under itself the ground which it endeavours to make. A measure is to be rejected for something that, by bare possibility, may be found amiss in some other mea- sure ! This is vicarious reprobation ; upon this prin- ciple Herod instituted his massacre. It is the argu- ment of a driveller to other drivellers, who says, We are not able to decide upon the evil when it arises — our only safe way is to act upon the general appre- hension of evil. Official Malefactor's Screen. — ' Attack us — you at- tack Government.'' If this notion is acceded to, every one who derives at present any advantage from misrule has it in fee- simple ; and all abuses, present and future, are with- out remedy. So long as there is any thing amiss in conducting the business of government, so long as it can be made better, there can be no other mode of bringing it nearer to perfection, than the indication of such imperfections as at the time being exist. 'But so far is it from being true, that a man's aversion or contempt for the hands by which the powers of government, or even for the system under which they are exercised, is a proof of his aversion or contempt towards the government itself, that, even in proportion to the strength of that aversion or contempt, it is a proof of the opposite affection. What, in consequence of that contempt or aversion, he wishes for, is not that there be no hands at all to excercise these powers, but that the hands may be better regulated ; not that those powers should not be exercised at all, but that they should be better ercised; not that in the exercise of them, no rules at all should be pursued, but that the rules by which they are exer- cised should be a better set of rules. 'All government is a trust; every branch of government is a trust ; and immemorially acknowledged so to be ; it is only by the magnitude of the scale that public differ from private trusts. I complain of the conduct of a person in the character of guardian, as domestic guardian, having the care of a minor or insane person. In so doing, do I say that guardianship is a bad institution ? Does it enter into the head of any one to sus- pect me of so doing? I complain of an individual in the cha- racter of a commercial agent, or assignee of the effects of an insolvent. In so doing, do I say that commercial agency is a bad thing? that the practice of vesting in the hands of trustees or assignees the effects of an insolvent, for the purpose of their being divided among his creditors, is a bad practice? Does any such conceit ever enter into the head of man, as that of suspecting me ofso doing? '—(pp. 162, 163.) There are no complaints against government in Turkey — no motions in Parliament, no Morning Chro- nicles, and no Edinburgh Reviews: yet, of all coun- tries in the world, it is that in which revolts and revo- lutions are the most frequent. It is so far from true, that no good government can exist consistently with such disclosure, that no good government can exist without it. It is quite obvious, to aL who are capable of reflection, that by no other means than by lowering the governors in the estima- tion of the people, can there be hope or chance of beneficial change. To infer from this wise endeavour to lessen the existing rulers in the estimaiion of the people, a wish of dissolving the government, is either artifice or error. The physician who intentionally weakens the patient by bleeding him has no intention he should perish. The greater the quantity of respect a man receives independently of good conduct, the less good is his behaviour likely to be. It is the interest, therefore, of the public, in the case of each, to see that the re- spect paid to him should, as completely as possible, depend upon the goodness of his behaviour in the execution of his trust. But it is, on the contrary, the interest of the trustee, that the respect, the money, or any other advantage he receives hi virtue of his office, should be as great, as secure, and as independent of conduct as possible. Soldiers expect to be shot at; public men must expect to be attacked, and sometimes unjustly. It keeps up the habit of considering their conduct as exposed to scrutiny ; on the part of the people at large, it keeps alive the expectation of wit- nessing such attacks, and the habit of looking out for them. The friends and supporters of government have always greater facility in keeping and raising it up, than its adversaries have for lowering it. Accusation-scar er's Device. — ' Infamy must attach somewhere.'' This fallacy consists in representing the character of a calumniator as necessarily and justly attaching upon him who, having made a charge of misconduct against any persons possessed of political power or influence, fails of producing evidence sufficient for their conviction. ' If taken as a general proposition, applying to all public accusations, nothing can be more mischievous as well as falla- cious. Supposing the charge unfounded, the delivery of it may have been accompanied with mala, fides (consciousness of its injustice), with temerity only, or it may have been perfectly blameless. It is in the first case alone that any infamy can with propriety attach upon him who brings it forward. A charge really groundless may have been honestly believed to be well founded, i. e., believed with a sort of provisional cre- dence, sufficient for the purpose of engaging a man to do his part towards the bringing about an investigation, but without sufficient reasons. But a charge may be perfectly groundless without attaching the smallest particle of blame upon him who brings it forward. Suppose him to have heard from one oi more, presenting himself to him in the character of percipient witnesses, a story which, either in toto, or perhaps only in circumstances, though in circumstances of the most material importance, should prove false and mendacious — how is the person who hears this, and acts accordingly, to blame ? What sagacity can enable a man previously to investigation, a man who has no power that can enable him to insure correctness or completeness on the part of this extrajudicial testimony, to guard against deception in such a case ? '—(pp. 185, 136.) Fallacy of false Consolation. — { What is the matter with you ? — What would you have ? Look at the people there, and there ; think how much better off you are than they are. Your prosperity and liberty are objects of their envy; your institutions models of their imita- tion.' It is not the desire to look to the bright side that is blamed : but when a particular suffering, produced by an assigned cause, has been pointed out, the object of many apologists is to turn the eyes of inquirers and judges into any other quarter in preference. If a man's tenants were to cp tie with a general encomium on the prosperity of the country, instead of a specified sum, would it be accepted? In a court of justice, in an ac- tion for damages, did ever any such device occur as that of pleading assets in the hands of a third person? There is, in fact, no country so poor and so wretched in every element of prosperity, in which matter for this argument might not be found. Were the prosper- ity of the country tenfold as great as at present,— the absurdity of the argument would not in the least de- gree be 'lessened. Why should the smallest evil be endured, which can be cured ; because others suffer patiently under greater evils? Should the smallest improvement attainable be neglected, because others remain contented in a state of still greater inferiority ? * Seriously and pointedly in the character of a bar to any measure of relief, no, nor to the most trivial improvement, can it ever be employed. Suppose a bill brought in for converting an impassable road any where into a passable one, would any man stand up to oppose it who could find BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES. 147 nothing better to urge against it than the multitude and goodness of the roads we have already? No : when in the character of a serious bar to the measure in hand, be that measure what it may, an argument so palpably inapplicable is employed, it can only be for the purpose of creating a diversion ;— of turning aside the minds of men from the subject really in hand, to a picture which, by its beauty, it is hoped, may engross the attention of the assembly, and make them forget for the moment for what purpose they came there. '—(pp. 196,197.) The Quietist, or no Complaint. — 'A new law or measure being proposed in the character of a remedy for some in- contestable abuse or evil, an objection is frequently started to the following effect : — " The measure is unnecessary. Nobody complains of disorder in that shape, in which it is the aim of your measure to propose a remedy to it. But even when no cause of complaint has been found to exist, especially under governments which admit of complaints, men have in general not been slow to complain : much less where any just cause of complaint has existed." The argument amounts to this : — Nobody complains, therefore nobody suffers. It amounts to a veto on all measures of precaution or prevention, and goes to establish a maxim in legislation directly opposed to the most ordinary prudence of common life;— it enjoins us to build no parapets to a bridge till the number of accidents has raised an universal clamour.'— pp. 190, 191.) Procrastinatoi-'s Argument. — " Wait a little, this is not the time.^ This is the common argument of men, who, being in reality hostile to a measure, are ashamed or afraid of appearing to be so. To-day is the plea — eternal ex- clusion commonly the object. It is the same sort of quirk as a plea of abatement in law — which is never employed but on the side of a dishonest defendant, — whose hope it is to obtain an ultimate triumph, by overwhelming his adversary with despair, impoverish- ment, and lassitude. Which is the properest day to do good ? which is the properest day to remove a nui- sance ? we answer, the very first day a man can be found to propose the removal of it ; and whoever op- poses the removal of it on that day will (if he dare) oppose it on every other. There is in the minds of many feeble friends to virtue and improvement, an im- aginary period for the removal of evils, which it would certainly be worth while to wait for, if there was the smallest chance of its ever arriving — a period of unex- ampled peace and prosperity, when a patriotic king and an enlightened mob united their ardent efforts for the amelioration of human affairs ; when the oppressor is as delighted to give up the oppression, as the op- pressed is to be liberated from it; when the difficulty and the unpopularity would be to continue the evil, — not to abolish it ! These are the periods when fair weather philosophers are willing to venture out, and hazard a little for the general good. But the history of human nature is so contrary to all this, that almost all improvements are made after the bitterest resist- ance, and in the midst of tumults and civil violence — the worst period at which they can be made, compared to which any period is eligible, and should be seized hold of by the friends of salutary reform. SnaiVs Pace argument. — 'One thing at a time'. Not too fast! Slow and sure! — Importance of the business — ex- treme difficulty of the business — danger of innovation — need of caution and circumspection — impossibility of fore- seeing all consequences — danger of precipitation — every thing should be gradual — one thing at a time — this is not the time — great occupation at present — wait for more leisure — people well satisfied — no petitions presented— no complaints heard — no such mischief has yet taken place — stay till it has taken place ! — Such is the prattle which the magpie in office, who, understanding nothing, yet understands that he must have something to say on every subject, shouts out among his auditors as a succedaneum to thought.' — (pp. 203, 204.) Vague Generalities. — Vague generalities comprehend a numerous class of fallacies resorted to by those who, in preference to the determinate expressions which they might use, adopt others more vague and indeter- minate. Take, for instance, the terms, government, laws, — morals, religion. Every body will admit that there are in the world bad governments, bad laws, bad mo- rals, and bad religions. The bare circumstance, — therefore, of being engaged in exposing the defects of government, law, morals, and religion, does not of itself afford the slightest presumption that a writer is engaged in any thing blamable. If his attack is only directed against that which is bad in each, his efforts maybe productive of good to any extent. This essen- tial distinction, however, the defender of abuses uni- formly takes care to keep out of sight ; and boldly imputes to his antagonists an intention to subvert ail government, law, morals, and religion. Propose any thing with a view to the improvement of the existing practice, in relation to law, government, and religion, he will treat you with an oration upon the necessity and utility of law, government, and religion. Among the several cloudy appellatives which have been com- monly employed as cloaks for misgovernment, there is none more conspicuous in this atmosphere of illusion than the word order. As often as any measure is brought forward which has for its object to lessen the sacrifice made by the many to the few, social order is the phrase commonly opposed to its progress. 1 By a defalcation made from any part of the mass of factitious delay, vexation, and expense, out of which, and in proportion to which, lawyers' profit is made to flow — by any defalcation made from the mass of needless and worse than useless emolument to office, with or without service or pretence of service — by any addition endeavoured to be made to the quantity, or improvement in the quality of service rendered, or time bestowed in service rendered in return for such emolument— by every endeavour that has for its object the persuading the people to place their fate at the disposal of any other agents than those in whose hands breach of trust is certain, due fulfilment of it morally and physically impossible— social order is said to be en- dangered, and threatened to be destroyed.,— (p. 234.) In the same way establishment is a word in use to protect the bad parts of establishments, by charging those who wish to remove or alter them, with a wish to subvert all good establishments. Mischievous fallacies also circulate from the con- vertible use of what Mr. B. is pleased to call dyslogis- tic and eulogistic terms. Thus a vast concern is ex- pressed for the liberty of the press, and the utmost ab- horrence for its licentiousness : but then, by the licen- tiousness of the press is meant every disclosure by which any abuse is brought to light and exposed to shame — by the liberty of the press is meant only pub- lications from which no such inconvenience is to be apprehended ; and the fallacy consists in employing the sham approbation of liberty as a mask for the real opposition to all free discussion. To write a pamph- let so ill that nobody will read it ; to animadvert in terms so weak and insipid upon great evils, that no disgust is excited at the vice, and' no apprehension in the evildoer, is a fair use of the liberty of the press, — and, is not only pardoned by the friends of govern- ment, but draws from them the most fervent eulogium. The licentiousness of the press consists in doing the thing boldly and well, in striking terror into the guilty, and in rousing the attention of the public to the de- fence of their highest interests. This is the licen- tiousness of the press held in the greatest horror by timid and corrupt men, and punished by semianimous semicadaverous judges, with a captivity of many years. In the same manner the dyslogistic and eulo- gistic fallacies are used in the case of reform. ' Between all abuses whatsoever, there exists that connec- tion ^between all persons who see each of them, any one abuse in which an advantage results to himself, there exists, in point of interest, that close and sufficiently understood connection, of which intimation has been given already. To no one abuse can correction be administered without endangering the existence of every other. 'If, then, with this inward determination not to suffer, so far as depends upon himself, the adoption of any reform which he is able to prevent, it should seem to him necessary or advisable to put on for a cover, the profession or appear- ance of a desire to contribute to such reform — in pursuance of the device or fallacy here in question, he will represent that which goes by the name of reform as distinguishable into two species; one of them a fit subject for approbation, the other for disapprobation. That which he tnus professes to have marked for approbation, he will accordingly, for the expression of such approbation, characterize by some adjunct of the eulogisttc cast, such as moderate, for example, or temperate, or practical, or practicable. < To the other of these nominally distinct species he will, 148 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. at the same time, attach some adjunct of the dyslogistic cast, such as violent, intemperate, extravagant, outrageous, theo- retical, speculative, and so forth. ' Thus, then, in profession and to appearance, there are in his conception of the matter two distinct and opposite species w, and, after a long chase, seizes it as gree- dily as a bailiff possesses himself of a fugacious cap- tain. But alas ! the vanity of human wishes : — the never sufficiently to be pitied stripling has scarcely congratulated himself upon his success, when he finds Ballo to contain the following meanings in Heder- ick's Lexicon : — 1. Jacio ; 2. Jaculor; 3. Ferio ; 4. Figo ; 5. Saucio ; 6. Attingo ; 7. Projicio ; 8. Emitto ; 9. Profundo; 10. Pono ; 11. Immitto ; 12. Trado ;— 13. Committo; 14. Condo ; 15. iEdifico ; 16. Verso, 17. Flecto. Suppose the little rogue, not quite at home in the Latin tongue, to be desirous of affixing English significations to these various words, he has then, at the moderate rate of six meanings to every Latin word, one hundred and two meanings to the word Ballo ; or if he is content with the Latin, he has then only seventeen.* Words, in their origin, have a natural or primary sense. The accidental associations of the people who use it, afterwards give to that word a great number oi secondary meanings. In some words the primary meaning is very common, and the secondary meaning very rare. In other instances it is just the reverse ; — and in very many the particular secondary meaning is pointed out by some preposition which accompanies it, or some case by which it is accompanied. But an ac- curate translation points these things out gradually as it proceeds. The common and most probable mean- ings of the word Ballo, or of any other word, are, in the Hamiltonian method, insensibly but surely fixed on the mind, which, by the lexicon method, must be done by a tentative process, frequently ending in gross error, noticed with peevishness, punished with sever- ity, consuming a great deal of time, and for the most part only corrected, after all, by the accurate viva voce translation of the master— or, in other words, by the Hamiltonian method. The recurrence to a translation is treated in our schools, as a species of imbecility and meanness ; just as if there was any other dignity here than utility, — any other object in learning languages, than to turn something you do not understand, into something you do understand, and as if that was not the best method which effected this object in the shortest and simplest manner. Hear upon this point the judicious Locke : — ' But if such a man cannot be got, who speaks good Latin, and being able to instruct your son in all these parts of knowledge, will undertake it by this method, the next best is to have him taught as near this way as may be — which is by taking some easy and plea- sant book, such as JEsop's Fables, and writing the * In addition to the other needless difficulties and miseries entailed upon children who are learning languages, their Greek Lexicons give a Latin instead of an English transla- tion ; and a boy of twelve or thirteen years of age, whose attainments in Latin are of course hut moderate, is expected to make it the vehicle of knowledge for other languages. This is setting the short-sighted and blear-eyed to lead the blind ; and is one of those afflicting pieces of absurdity which escape animadversion, because they are, and have long been, of daily occurrence. Mr. Jones has published an English and Greek Lexicon, which we recommend to the notice of all persons engaged in education, and not sacra- mented against all improvement. 160 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. English translation (made as literal as it can be) in one line, and the Latin words which answer each of them just over it in another. These let him read every day over and over again, till he perfectly understands the Latin ; and then go on to another fable, till he be also perfect in that, not omitting what he is already perfect in, but sometimes reviewing that, to keep it in his memory ; and when he comes to write, let these be set him for copies, which, with the exercise of his hand, will also advance him in Latin. This being a more imperfect way than by talking Latin unto him, the formation of the verbs first, and afterwards the declensions of the nouns and pronouns perfectly learn- ed by heart, may facilitate his acquaintance with the genius and manner of the Latin tongue, which varies the signification of verbs and nouns, not as the modern languages do, by particles prefixed, but by changing the last syllables. More than this of grammar I think he need not have till he can read himself " Sanctii Minerva" — with Scioppius and Perigonius's notes.' — Locke on Education, p. 74, folio. Another recommendation which we have not men- tioned in the Hamiltonian system is, that it can be combined, and is constantly combined, with the sys- tem of Lancaster. The Key is probably sufficient for those who have no access to classes and schools : but in an Hamiltonian school during the lesson, it is not left to the option of the child to trust to the Key alone. The master stands in the middle, translates accurately and literally the whole verse, and then asks the boys the English of separate words, or challenges them to join the words together, as he has done. A perpetual attention and activity is thus kept up. The master, or a scholar (turned into a temporary Lan- castrian master), acts as a living lexicon ; and, if the thing is well done, as a lively and animating lex- icon. How is it possible to compare this with the solitary wretchedness of a poor lad of the desk and lexicon, suffocated with the nonsense of grammarians, overwhelmed with every species of difficulty dispro- portioned to his age, and driven by despair to peg top, or marbles ? 1 Taking- these principles as a basis, the teacher forms his class of eight, ten, twenty, or one hundred. The number is of little moment, it being as easy to teach a greater as a smaller one, and brings them at once to the language itself, by reciting-, with a loud articulate voice the first verse thus : In in, prin- cipio beginning, Verbum Word, erat was, et and, Verbum Word, erat was, apud at, Deum God, et and, Verbum Word, erat was, Deus God. Having recited the word once or twice himself, it is then recited precisely in the same manner by any person of the class whom he may deem most capable ; the person copying his manner and intonations as much as possible. When the verse has been thus recited, by six or eight persons of the class, the teacher recites the 2d verse in the same man- ner, which is recited as the former by any members of the class; and thus continues until he has recited from ten to twelve verses, which usually constitute the first lesson of one hour. In three lessons, the first Chapter may be thus readily translated, the teacher gradually diminishing the number of repetitions of the same verse till the fourth lesson, when each member of the class translates his verse in turn from the mouth of the teacher ; from which period fifty, sixty, or even seventy, verses may be translated in the time of a lesson, or one hour. At the seventh lesson, it is invariably found that the class can translate without the assistance of a teacher farther than for occasional correction, and for those words they may not have met in the preceding chapters. But, to accomplish this, it is absolutely necessary that every member of the class know every word of all the preceding lessons ; which, is, how- ever, an easy task, the words being always taught him in class, and the pupil besides being able to refer to the key whenever he is at a loss — the key translated in the very words which the teacher has used in the class, from which, as was before re- marked, he must never deviate. In ten lessons, it will be found that the class can readily translate the whole of the Gospel of St. John, which is the first section of the course. Should any delay, from any cause, prevent them, it is in my classes always for account of teacher, who gives the extra lesson or lessons always gratis. It cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind of the pupil, that a perfect knowledge of every word of his first section is most important to the ease and comfort of his future progress. At the end of ten lessons, or first section, the cus- tom of my establishments is to give the pupil the Epitome Historic Sacra, which is provided with a key in the same manner. It was first used in our classes for the first and second sections ; we now teach it in one section of ten lessons, which we find easier than to teach it in two sections before the pupil has read the Testament. When he has read the Epitome, it will be then time to give him the theory of the verbs and other words which change their terminations. He has already ac- quired a good practical knowledge of these things; the theory then becomes very easy. A grammar containing the declen- sions and conjugations, and printed specially for my classes, is then put into the pupil's hands, (not to be got by heart, no- thing is ever got by rote on this system,) but that he may com- prehend more readily his teacher who lectures on grammar generally, but especially on the verbs. From this time, that is, from the beginning of the third section, the pupil studies the theory and construction of the language as well as its practice. For this purpose he reads the ancient authors, beginning with Caesar, which, together with the Selecta e Profanis, fills use fully the third and fourth sections. When these with the pro- ceding books are well known, the pupil will find little diffi- culty in reading the authors usually read in schools. The fifth and sixth sections consist of Virgil and Horace, enough of which is read to enable the pupil to read them with facility, and to give him correct ideas of Prosody and Versification. Five or six months, with mutual attention on the part of the pupil and teacher, will be found sufficient to acquire a know- ledge of this language, which hitherto has rarely been tha result of as many years.' We have before said, that the Hamiltonian system must not depend upon Mr. Hamilton's method of car- rying it into execution ; for instance, he banishes from schools the effects of emulation. The boys do not take each other's places. This, we think, is a sad ab- surdity. A cook might as well resolve to make bread without fermentation, as a pedagogue to carry on a school without emulation. It must be a sad doughy lump without this vivifying principle. Why are boys to be shut out from a class of feelings to which society owes so much, and upon which their conduct in fu- ture life must (if they are worth anything) be so close- ly constructed ? Poet A writes verses to outshine poet B. Philosopher C sets up roasting Titanium, and boiling Chromium, that he may be thought more of than philosopher D. Mr. Jackson strives to out-paint Sir Thomas; Sir Thomas Lethbridge to overspeak Mr. Canning ; and so society gains good chemists, poets, painters, speakers, and orators ; and why are not boys to be emulous as well as men ? If a boy were in Paris, would he learn the language better by shutting himself up to read French books with a dictionary, or by conversing freely with all whom he met ? and what is conversation but an Hamiltonian school ? Every man you meet is a living lexicon and grammar — who is perpetually instructing you, in spite of yourself, in the terminations of French substantives and verbs. The analogy is still closer, if you converse with persons of whom you can ask questions, and who will be at the trouble of correcting you. What madness would it be to run away from these pleasing facilities, as too dangerously easy — to stop your ears, to double-lock the door, and to look out chickens ; taking a walk ; and fine weather ; in Boyer's Dictionary — and then, by the help of Cham- baud's Grammar, to construct a sentence which should signify, ' Come to my house, and eat some chickens, if it is fine?' But there is in England almost a love of difficulty and needless labour. We are so resolute and industrious in raising up impediments which ought to be overcome, that there is a sort of suspicion against the removal of these impediments, and a no- tion that the advantage is not fairly come by without the previous toil. If the English were in a paradise of spontaneous productions, they would continue to dig and plough, though they were never a peach nor a pine-apple the better for it. A principal point to attend to in the Hamiltonian system, is the prodigious number of words and phras- es which pass through the boy's mind, compared with those which are presented to him by the old plan. As a talkative boy learns French sooner in France than a silent boy, so a translator of books learns sooner to construe, the more he translates. An Hamiltonian makes, in six or seven lessons, three or four hundred times as many exchanges of English for French or Latin, as a grammar schoolboy can do ; and if he loses 50 per cent, of all he hears, his progress is still, beyond all possibility of comparison, more rapid. As for pronunciation of living languages, we see no reason why that consideration should be introduced in HAMILTON'S METHOD OF TEACHING LANGUAGES. 161 this place. We are decidedly of opinion, that all liv- ing languages are best learnt in the country where they are spoken, or by living with those who come from that country ; but if that cannot be, Mr. Hamilton's method is better than the grammar and dictionary method. Cceteris paribus, Mr. Hamilton's method, as far as French is concerned, would be better in the hands of a Frenchman, and his Italian method in the hands of an Italian ; but all this has nothing to do with the system. 1 Have I read through Lilly ? — have I learnt by heart that most atrocious monument of absurdity, the Westminster Grammar ? — have I been whipt for the .substantives ? — whipt for the verbs ? — and whipt for and with the interjections? — have I picked the sense slowly, and word by word, out of Hederick? — and shall my eon Daniel be exempt from all this misery ? —Shall a little unknown person in Cecil Street, Strand, No. 25, pretend to tell me that all this is unnecessary? — Was it. possible that I might have been spared all this? — The whole system is nonsense, and the man an impostor. If there had been any truth in it, it must have occurred to some one else before this peri- od.'— This is a very common style of observation upon Mr. Hamilton's system, and by no means an uncom- mon wish of the mouldering and decaying part of man- kind, that the next generation should not enjoy any advantages from which they themselves have been precluded. — < Ay, ay, it's all mighty well — but I went through tkii ?nyself, and I am determined my children shall do the htpteJ We are convinced that a great deal of opposition to improvement proceeds from this prin- ciple. Crabbe might make a good picture of an unbe- ftevolent old man, slowly retiring from this sublunary scene, and lamenting that the coming race of men would be less bumped on the roads, better lighted in the streets, and less tormented with grammars and lexicons, than in the preceding age. A great deal of compliment to the wisdom of ancestors, and a great degree of alarm at the dreadful spirit of innovation, are soluble into mere jealousy and envy. But what is to become of a boy who has no difficul- ties to grapple with ? How enervated will that under- standing be, to which everything is made so clear, plain, and easy ; — no hills to walk up, no chasms to step over ; every thing graduated, soft, and smooth. All this, however, is an objection to the multiplication table, to Napier's bones, and to every invention for the abridgment of human labour. There is no dread of any lack of difficulties. Abridge intellectual labour by any process you please — multiply mechanical powers to any extent — there will be sufficient, and in- finitely more than sufficient, of laborious occupation for the mind and body of man. Why is the boy to be idle ?— By and by comes the book without a key ; by and by comes the lexicon. They do come at last — though at a better period. But if they did not come — if they were useless, if language could be attained without them — would any human being wish to retain difficulties for their own sake, which led to nothing useful, and by the annihilation of which our faculties were left to be exercised, by difficulties which do lead to something useful — by mathematics, natural philos- ophy, and every branch of useful knowledge ? Can any one be so anserous as to suppose, that the facul- ties of young men cannot be exercised, and their in- dustry and activity called into proper action, because Mr. Hamilton teaches, in three or four years, what has (in a more vicious system) demanded seven or eight ? Besides, even in the Hamiltonian method it is very easy for one boy to outstrip another. Why may not a clever and ambitious boy employ three hours upon his key by himself, while another boy has only employed one ? There is plenty of corn to thrash, and of chaff to be winnowed away, in Mr. Hamilton's system ; the difference is, that every blow tells, be- cause it is properly; directed. In the old way, half their force Avas lost "in air. There is a" mighty foolish apophthegm of Dr. Bell?s,* that it is not what is done for a boy that is of importance, but what a boy does * A very foolish old gentleman, seized on eagerly by the Church of England to defraud Lancaster of his discovery. L for himself. This is just as wise as to say, that it is not the breeches which are made for a boy that can co- ver his nakedness, but* the breeches he makes for him- self. All this entirely depends upon a comparison of the time saved, by showing the boy how to do a thing, rather than by leaving him to do it himself. Let the object be. for example, a pair of shoes. The boy will effect this object much better if you show him how to make the shoes, than if you merely give him wax, thread, and leather, and leave him to find out all the ingenious abridgements of labour which have been dis- covered by experience. The object is to turn Latin into English. The scholar will do it much better and sooner if the word is found for him, than if he finds it —much better and sooner if you point out the effect of the terminations, and the nature of the syntax, than if you leave him to detect them for himself. The thing is at last done by the pupil himself — for he reads the language — which was the thing to be done. All the help he has received has only enabled him to make a more economical use of his time, and to gain his end sooner. Never be afraid of wanting difficulties for your pupil; if means are rendered more easy, more will be expected. The animal will be compelled, or induced to all that he can do. Macadam has made the roads better. Dr. Bell would have predicted, that the horses would get too fat ; but the actual result is, that they are compelled to go ten miles an hour in- stead of eight. 1 For teaching children, this, too, I think is to be observed, that, in most cases, where they stick, they are not to be farther puzzled, by putting them upon finding it out themselves ; as by asking such questions as these, viz. — which is the nominative case in the sentence they are to construe ? or demanding what <•' aufero" signifies, to lead them to the knowledge what " abstulere"' signifies, &c, when they cannot readily tell. This wastes time only in disturbing them. ; for whilst they are learning, and apply them- selves with attention, they are to be kept in good hu- mour, and every thing made easy to them, and as pleasant as possible. Therefore, wherever they are at a stand, and are willing to go forwards, help them presently over the difficulty, without any rebuke or chiding ; remembering that, where harsher ways are taken, they are the effect only of pride and peevish- ness in the teacher, who expects children should in- stantly be masters of as much as he knows ; whereas he should rather consider, that his business is to set- tle in them habits, not angrily to inculcate rules.'' — Locke on Education, p. 74. Suppose the first five books of Herodotus to be ac- quired by a key, or literal translation after the meth- od of Hamilton, so that the pupil could construe them with the greatest accuracy ; — we do not pretend, be- cause the pupil could construe this book, that he could construe any other book equally easy ; we mere- ly say, that the pupil has acquired, by these means, a certain copia verborum, and a certain practical knowledge of grammar, which must materially dimi- nish the difficulty of reading the next book ; that his difficulties diminish in a compound ratio with every fresh book he reads with a key — till at last he reads any common book, without a key — and that he at- tains his last point of perfection in a time incompara- bly less, and with difficulties incomparably smaller, than in the old method. There are a certain number of French books, which when a boy can construe accurately, he may be said, for all purposes of reading, to be master of the French language. No matter how he has attained this power of construing the books. If you try him thoroughly, and are persuaded he is perfectly master of the books — then he possesses the power in question — he under- stands the language. Let these books, for the sake of the question, be Telemachus, the History of Louis XIV., the Henriade, the Plays of Racine, and the Re- volutions of Vertot. We would have Hamiltonian keys to all these books, and the Lancasterian method of instruction. We believe these books would be mas- tered in one-sixth part of the time, by these means, that they would be by the old method of looking out the words in the dictionary, and then coming to say WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. the lesson to the master ; and we believe that the boys, long before they came to the end of this series of books, ■would be able to do without their keys — to fling away their cork-jackets, and to swim alone. But boys who learn a language in four or five months, it is said, are apt to forget it again. Why, then, does not a young person, who has been five or six months in Paris, for- get his French four or five years afterwards ? It has been obtained without any of that labour, which the objectors to the Hamiltonian system deem to be so essential to memory. It has been obtained in the midst of tea and bread and butter, and yet is in a great measure retained for a whole life. In the same man- ner, the pupils of this new school use a colloquial liv- ing dictionary, and, from every principle of youthful emulation, contend with each other in catching the in- terpretation, and in applying to the lesson before them. ' If you wish boys to remember any language, make the acquisition of it very tedious and disgusting.' This seems to be an odd rule : but if it is good for language, it must be good also for every species of knowledge — music, mathematics, navigation, architec- ture. In all these sciences aversion should be the pa- rent of memory — impediment the cause of perfection. If difficulty is the cause of memory, the boy who learns with the greatest difficulty will remember with the greatest tenacity ; — in other words, the acquisi- tions of a dunce will be greater and- more important than those of a clever boy. Where is the love of diffi- culty going to end ? Why not leave a boy to compose his own dictionary and grammar ? It is not what is done for a boy, but what he does for himself, that is of any importance. Are there difficulties enough in the old method of acquiring languages ? Would it be better if the difficulties were doubled, and thirty years given to languages, instead of fifteen ? All these ar- guments presume the difficulty to be got over, and then the memory to be improved. But what if the difficulty is shrunk from? What if it puts an end to power, instead of increasing it ; and extinguishes, in- stead of exciting, application? And when these ef- fects are produced, you not only preclude all hopes of learning, or language, but you put an end for ever to all literary habits, and to all improvements from study. The boy who is lexicon-struck in early youth looks upon all books afterwards with horror, and goes over to the blockheads. Every boy would be pleased with books, and pleased with school, and be glad to forward the views of his parents, and obtain the praise of his master, if he found it possible to make tolerable easy progress ; but he is driven to absolute despair by gerunds, and wishes himself dead ! Pro- gress is pleasure — activity is pleasure. It is impossi- ble for a boy not to make progress, and not to be ac- tive in the Hamiltonian method; and this pleasing state of mind we contend to be more favourable to me- mory, than the languid jaded spirit which much com- merce Avith lexicons never fails to produce. Translations are objected to in schools justly en- ough, when they are paraphrases and not translations. It is impossible, from a paraphrase or very loose trans- lation, to make any useful progress — they retard ra- ther than accelerate a knowledge of the language to be acquired, and are the principal causes of the discredit into which translations have been brought, as instru- ments of education. Infandum Regina jubes renovare dolorem, Regina, jubes renovare dolorem infandum. Oh ! Queen, thou orderest to renew grief not to be spokenof. 1 Oh ! Queen, in pursuance of your commands, I enter upon the narrative of misfortunes almost too great for ut- terance. The first of these translations leads us directly to the explication of a foreign language, as the latter in- sures a perfect ignorance of it. It is difficult enough to introduce any useful novelty in education without enhancing its perils by needless and untenable paradox. Mr. Hamilton has made an assertion in his Preface to the Key of the Italian Gos- pel, which has no kind of foundation in fact, and which has afforded a conspicuous mark for the aim of his an* tagonists. < I have said that each word is translated by its one sole undeviating meaning, assuming as an incontrovertible prin- ciple in all languages that, with very few exceptions, each word has one meaning only, and can usually be rendered correctly into another by one word only, which one worr 1 should serve for its representative at all times and on all oc casions.' Now, it is probable that each word had one mean- ing only in its origin ; but metaphor and association are so busy with human speech, that the same word comes to serve in a vast variety of senses, and contin- ues to do so long after the metaphors and associations which called it into this state of activity are buried in oblivion. Why may not jubeo be translated order as well as command, or dolorem rendered grief as Avell as sorrow ? Mr. Hamilton has expressed himself loosely ; but he perhaps means no more than to say, that in school translations, the metaphysical, meaning should never be adopted, when the word can be ren- dered by its primary signification. We shall allow him, however, to detail his own method of making the translation in question. '* Translations on the Hamiltonian system, according to which this book is translated, must not be confounded with translations made according to Locke, Clarke, Sterling, or even according to Dumarsais, Fremont, and a number of other Frenchmen, who have made what have been and ane yet sometimes called literal, and interlineal translations. The latter are, indeed, interlineal, but no literal translation had ever appeared in any language before those called Ha- miltonian, that is, before my "Gospel of St. John from the French, the Greek, and Latin Gospels, published in Lon- don, and L'Hommond's Epitome of the Historia Sacra. These and these only were and are truly literal ; that is to say, that every word is rendered in English by a correspond- ing part of speech; that the grammatical analysis of the phrase is never departed from ; and the mood, tense, and person of every verb, are accurately pointed out by appro- priate and unchanging signs, so that a grammarian not un- derstanding one word of Italian, would, on reading any part of the translation here given, be instantly able to parse it. In the translations above alluded to, an attempt is made to preserve the correctness of the language into which the different works are translated, but the wish to conciliate this correctness with a literal translation, has only produced a barbarous and uncouth idiom, while it has in every case de- ceived the unlearned pupil by a translation altogether false and incorrect. Such translations may, indeed, give an idea of what is contained in the book translated, but they will not assist, or at least very little, in enabling the pupil to make out the exact meaning of each word, which is the principal object of Hamiltonian translations. The reader will understand this better by an illustration : A gentleman has lately given a translation of Juvenal accord- ing to the plan of the above-mentioned authors, beginning with the words semper ego, which he joins and translates, " shall I always be" — if his intention were to teach Latin words, he might as well have said, " shall I always eat beef- steaks ?" — True, there is nothing about beef-steaks ih sem- per e»o, but neither is there about " shall be:" the whole translation is on the same plan, that is to say, that there is not one line of it correct, I had almost said" one word, on which the pupil can rely, as the exact equivalent in English of the Latin word above it. — Not so the translation here given. ' As the object of the author has been that the pupil should know every word as well as he knows it himself, he has uni- formly given it the one sole, precise meaning which it has in our language, sacrificing everywhere the beauty, the idiom, and the correctness of the English language to the original, in order to show the perfect idiom, phraseology, and picture of that original as in a glass. So far is this carried, that where the English language can express the precise meaning of the Italian phrase only by a barbarism, this barharism is employed without scruple — as thus ; " e le tenebre non l'hanno ammessa." —Here the word tenebre being plural, if you translate it dark- ness, you not only give a false translation of the word itself, which is used by the Italians in the plural number, but what is much more important, you lead the pupil into an error about its government, it being the nominative case to hanno, which is the third person plural ; it is therefore translated not dark- ness, but darknesses.' To make these keys perfect, we rather think there should be a free translation added to the literal one. Not a paraphrase, but only so free as to avoid any awkward or barbarous expression. The comparison HAMILTON'S METHOD OF TEACHING LANGUAGES. 103 between the free and the literal translation would im- mediately show to young people the peculiarities of the language in which they were engaged. Literal translation or key — Oh ! Queen, thou orderest me to renew grief not to be spoken of. Free — ' Oh ! Queen, thou orderest me to renew my grief, too great lor utterance.' The want of this accompanying free translation is not felt in keys of the Scriptures, because, in fact, the English Bible is a free translation, great part of which the scholar remembers. But in a work entirely un- known, of which a key was given, as full of awkward and barbarous expressions as a key certainly ought to be, a scholar might be sometimes puzzled to arrive at the real sense. We say as full of awkward and bar- barous expressions as it ought to be, because we thoroughly approve of Mr. Hamilton's plan, of always sacrificing English and elegance to sense, when they cannot be united in the key. We are rather sorry Mr. Hamilton's first essay has been in a translation of the Scriptures, because every child is so familiar with them, that it may be difficult to determine whether the apparent progress is ancient recollection or recent attainment ; and because the Scriptures are so full of Hebraisms and Syriacisms, and the language so differ- ent from that of Greek authors, that it does not secure a knowledge of the language equivalent to the time employed upon it. The keys hitherto published by Mr. Hamilton are the Greek, Latin, French, Italian, and German keys to the Gospel of St. John, Perrin's Fables, Latin His- toria Sacra, Latin, French, and Italian Grammar, and Studia Metrica. One of the difficulties under which the system is labouring, is a want of more keys. Some of the best Greek and Roman classics should be immediately published, with keys, and by very good scholars. We shall now lay before our readers an extract from one of the public papers respecting the progress made in the Hamiltonian schools. * Extract from the Morning Chronicle of Wednesday, No- vember 16th, 1825. — Hamiltonian System. — We yesterday were present at an examination of eight lads who have been under Mr. Hamilton since some time in the month of May last, with' a view to ascertain the efficacy of his system in communicating a knowledge of languages. These eight lads, all of them be- tween the ages of twelve and fourteen, are the children of poor people, who, when they were first placed under Mr. Hamilton, possessed no other instruction than common reading and wri- ting. They were obtained from a common country school, through the interposition of a member of Parliament, who takes an active part in promoting charity schools throughout the country; and the choice was determined by the consent of the parents, and not by the cleverness of the boys. ' They have been employed in learning Latin, French, and latterly Italian ; and yesterday they were examined by several distinguished individuals, among whom we recognized John Smith, Esq. M. P. ; G. Smith, Esq. M. P. ; Mr. J. Mill, the his- torian of British India; Major Camac; Major Thompson ; Mr. Cowell, &c. circumflexum est. Ante w finale character Explicitus os primi est implicitusque futuri to itaque in quo c quasi plexum est solitu in ffw.' Westminster Greek Grammar, 1814. Such are the easy initiations of our present methods of teaching. The Hamiltonian system, on the other hand, 1. teaches an unknown tongue by the closest in- terlinear translation, instead of leaving a boy to ex- plore his way by the lexicon or dictionary. 2. It postpones the study of grammar till a considerable progress has been made in the language, and a great degree of practical grammar has been acquired. 3. It substitutes the cheerfulness and competition of the Lancasterian system for the dull solitude of the dic- tionary. By these means, a boy finds he is making a progress, and learning something from the very be- ginning. He is not overwhelmed with the first ap- pearance of insuperable difficulties ; he receives some little pay from the first moment of his apprenticeship, and is not compelled to wait for remuneration till he is out of his time. The student having acquired the great art of understanding the sense of what is written in another tongue, may go into the study of the Ian. COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS. 165 guage as deeply and as extensively as he pleases. The old system aims at beginning with a depth and accuracy which many men never will want, which disgusts many from arriving even at moderate attain- ments, and is a less easy, and not more certain road to a profound skill in languages, than if attention to grammar had been deferred to a later period. In fine, we are strongly persuaded, that the time being given, this system will make better scholars ; and the degree of scholarship being given, a much shorter time will be needed. If there is any truth in this, it will make Mr. Hamilton one of the most use- ful men of his age ; for if there is any thing which fills reflecting men with melancholy and regret, it is the waste of mortal time, parental money, and puerile happiness, in the present method of pursuing Latin and Greek. COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS. (Edinburgh Re- view, 1826.) Stockton on the Practice of not allotting Counsel for Prison- ers accused of Felony. 8vo. London, 182C. On the sixth of April, 1824, Mr. George Lamb, (a gentleman who is always the advocate of whatever is honest and liberal), presented the following petition from several jurymen in the habit of serving on juries at the Old Bailey :— * That your petitioners, fully sensible of the invaluable privilege of jury trials, and desirous of seeing them as com- plete as human institutions will admit, feel it their duty to draw the attention of the House to the restrictions imposed on the prisoner's counsel, which, they humbly conceive, have strong claims to legislative remedy. With every dis- position to/iecide justly, the petitioners have found, by ex- perience, in the course of their attendance as jurymen in the old Bailey, that the opening statements for the prosecu- tion too frequently leave an impression more unfavourable to the prisoner at the bar, than the evidence of itself could have produced ; and it has always sounded harsh to the pe- titioners to hear it announced from the bench, that the counsel, to whom the prisoner has committed his defence, cannot be permitted to address the jury in his behalf nor reply to the charges which have, or have not, been substan- tiated by the witnesses. The petitioners have felt their sit- uation peculiarly painful and embarrassing when the pri- soner's faculties, perhaps surprised by such an intimation, are too much absorbed in the difficulties of his unhappy cir- cumstances to admit of an eifort towards his own justifica- tion, against the statements of the prosecutor's counsel, often unintentionally aggravated through zeal or miscon- ception ; and it is purely with a view to the attainment of impartial justice, that the petitioners humbly submit to the serious consideration of the House the expediency of allow- ing every accused person the full benefit of counsel, as in cases of misdemeanour, and according to the practice of the civil courts.' With the opinions so sensibly and properly expres- sed by these jurymen, we most cordially agree. We have before touched incidentally on this subject; but shall now give to it a more direct, and a fuller exami- nation. We look upon it as a very great blot in our over-praised criminal code ; and no efibrt of ours shall be wanting, from time to time, for its removal. We have now the benefit of discussing these sub- jects under the government of a home secretary of state, whom we may (we believe) fairly call a wise, honest, and high principled man — as he appears to us, without wishing for innovation, or having any itch for it, not to be afraid of innovation,* when it is gradual and well considered. He is, indeed, almost the only person we remember in his station, who has not con- sidered sound sense to consist in the rejection of every improvement, and loyalty to be proved by the defence of every accidental, imperfect, or superannuated in- stitution. If this petition of jurymen be a real bond fide peti- *We must always except the Catholic question. Mr. Peel's opinions on this subject (giving him credit for sinceri- ty), have always been a subject of real surprise to us. It must surely be some mistake between the right honourable gentleman and his chaplain ! They have been travelling together ; and some of the parson's notions have been put up in Mr. Peel's head by mistake. We yet hope he will re- turn them to their rightful owner. tion, not the result of solicitation — and we have no reason to doubt it — it is a warning which the legisla- ture canript neglect, if it mean to avoid the disgrace of seeing the lower and middle orders of mankind making laws for themselves, which the government is at length compelled to adopt as measures of their own. The judges and the Parliament would have gone on to this day, hanging, by wholesale, for the forgeries of bank notes, if juries had not become weary of the con- tinual butchery, and resolved to acquit. The proper execution of laws must always depend, in great mea- sure, upon public opinion ; and it is undoubtedly most discreditable to any men intrusted with power, when the governed turn round upon their governors, and say, ' Your laws are so cruel, or so foolish, we cannot and will not act upon them.' The particular improvement, of allowing counsel to those who are accused of felony, is so far from being un- necessary, from any extraordinary indulgence shown to English prisoners, that we really cannot help sus- pecting, that not a year elapses in which many inno cent persons are not found guilty. How is it possible, indeed, that it can be otherwise ? There are seventy or eighty persons to be tried for various offences at the assizes, who have lain in prison for some months ; and fifty of whom, perhaps, are of the lowest order of the people, without friends in any better condition than themselves, and without one single penny to employ in their defence. How are they to obtain witnesses ? No attorney can be employed — no subpoena can be taken out ; the witnesses are fifty miles off, perhaps — totally uninstructed — living from hand to mouth — utterly unable to give up their daily occupation to pay for their journey, or for their support when arrived at the town of trial — and, if they could get there, not knowing where to go, or what to do. It is impossible but that a human being, in such a helpless situation, must be found guilty ; for, as he cannot give evidence for himself, and has not a penny to fetch those who can give it for him, any story told against him must be taken for true (however false) ; since it is impos- sible for the poor wretch to contradict it. A brother or a sister may come — and support every suffering and privation themselves in coming ; but the prisoner cannot often have such claims upon the persons who have witnessed the transaction, nor any other claims but those which an unjustly accused person has upon those whose testimony can exculpate him — and who probably must starve themselves and their families to do it. It is true, a case of life and death will rouse the poorest persons, every now and then, to extraor- dinary exertions, and they may tramp through mud and dirt to the assize town to save a life — though even this effort, is precarious enough: but imprisonment, hard labour, or transportation, appeal less forcibly than death, — and would often appeal for evidence in vain, to the feeble and limited resources of extreme poverty. It is not that a great proportion of those ac- cused are not guilty — but that some are not — and are utterly without means of establishing their innocence. We do not believe they are often accused from wilful and corrupt perjury : but the prosecutor is himself mistaken. The crime has been committed ; and in his thirst for vengeance, he has got hold of the wrong man. The wheat was stolen out of the barn ; and, amidst many other collateral circumstances, the wit- nesses (paid and brought up by a wealthy prosecutor, who is repaid by the county), swear that they saw a man, very like the prisoner, with a sack of corn upon his shoulder, at an early hour of the morning, going from the barn in the direction of the prisoner's cottage ! Here is one link, and a very material link, of a long chain of circumstantial evidence. Judge and jury must give it weight, till it is contradicted. In fact, the prisoner did not steal the com ; he was, to be sure, out of his cottage at the same hour — and that also is proved — but travelling in a totally different direction, — and was seen to be so travelling by a stage coachman passing by, and by a market gardener. An attorney with money in his pocket, whom every mo- ment of such employ made richer by six-and-eight pence, would have had the two witnesses ready, and at rack and manger, from the first day of the assize ; 166 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. and the innocence of the prisoner would have been established : but by what possible means is the desti- tute ignorant wretch himself to find or to produce such witnesses ? or how can the most humane jury, and the most acute judge, refuse to consider him as guilty, till his witnesses are produced ? We have not the slightest disposition to exaggerate, and, on the contrary, should be extremely pleased to be convinced that our apprehensions were unfounded : but we have often felt extreme pain at the hopeless and unprotected state of prisoners ; and we cannot find any answer to our suspicions, or discover any means by which this {>erversion of justice, under the present state of the aw, can b« prevented from taking place. Against the prisoner are arrayed all the resources of an angry prosecutor, who has certainly (let who will be the culprit) suffered a serious injury. He has his hand, too, in the public purse ; for he prosecutes at the ex- pense of the county. He cannot even relent ; for the magistrate is bound over to indict. His witnesses cannot fail him ,• for they are all bound over by the same magistrate to give evidence. He is out of prison, too, and can exert himself. The prisoner, on the other hand, comes into court, squalid and depressed from long confinement — utterly unable to tell his own story from want of words and want of confidence, and is unable to produce evidence for want of money. His. fate accordingly is obvious ; ^-and that there are many innocent men punished every year, for crimes they have not committed, ap- pears to us to be extremely probable. It is, indeed, scarcely possible it should be otherwise: and, as if to prove the fact, every now and then, a case of this kind is detected. Some circumstances come to light between sentence and execution ; immense exertions are made by humane men ; time is gained, and the innocence of the condemned person completely estab- lished. In Elizabeth Caning's case, two women were capitally convicted, ordered for execution — and at last found innocent, and respited. Such, too, was the case of the men who were sentenced ten years ago, for the robbery of Lord Cowper's steward. ' I have myself (says Mr. Scarlett) often seen persons I thought inno- cent convicted, and the guilty escape, for want of some acute and intelligent counsel to show the bear- ing of the different circumstances on the conduct and situation of the prisoner. '-^-(House of Commons De- bates, April 25th, 1826.) We were delighted to see, in this last debate, both Mr. Brougham and Mr. Scar- lett profess themselves friendly to Mr. Lamb's motion. But in how many cases has the injustice proceeded without any suspicion being excited ? and even if we could reckon upon men being watchful in capital cases, where life is concerned, we are afraid it is in such cases alone that they ever besiege the secretary of state, and compel his attention. We never remem- any such interference to save a man unjustly con- demned to the hulks or the treadmill ; and yet there are certainly more condemnations to these minor pun- ishments than to the gallows ; but then it is all one — who knows or cares about it ? If Harrison or Johnson has been condemned, after regular trial by jury, to six months' treadmill, because Harrison and Johnson were without a penny to procure evidence — who knows or cares about Harrison or Johnson? how can they make themselves heard ? or in what way can they ob- tain redress? It worries rich and comfortable people to hear the humanity of our penal laws called in ques- tion. There is talk'of a society for employing dis- charged prisoners : might not something be effected by a society instituted for the purpose of providing to poor prisoners a proper defence, and a due attendance of witnesses ? But we must hasten on from this dis- graceful neglect of poor prisoners, to the particular subject of complaint we have proposed to ourselves. The proposition is, That the prisoner accused offelo- ly ought to have the same power of selecting counsel to speak for him as he has in cases of treason and misde- meanour, and as defendants have in all civil actions. Nothing can be done in any discussion upon any point of law in England, without quoting Mr. Justice Blackstone. Mr. Justice Blackstone, we believe, gen- erally wrote his Commentaries late in the evening, with a bottle of wine before him; and little did he think, as each sentence fell from the glass and pen, of the immense influence it might hereafter exercise upon the laws and usages of his country. ' It is' (says this favourite writer) ' not at all of a piece with the rest of the humane treatment of prisoners by the En- glish law ; for upon what face of reason can that as- sistance be denied to save the life of a man, which yet is allowed him in prosecutions for every petty trespass V Nor, indeed, strictly speaking, is it a part of our ancient law ; for the Mirror, having observed the necessity of counsel in civil suits, who know how to forward and defend the cause by the rules of law and customs of the realm, immediately subjoins, ' and more necessary are they for defence upon indictment and appeals of felony, than upon any other venial crimes.' To the authority of Blackstone may be add- ed that of Sir John Hall, in Hollis's case ; of Sir Ro- bert Atkyns, in Lord Russell's case ; and of Sir Bar- tholomew Shower, in the arguments for a New Bill of Rights, in 16S2. ' In the name of God,' says this judge, ' what harm can accrue to the public in general, or to any man in particular, that, in cases of State- treason, counsel should not be allowed to the accused? What rule of justice is there to warrant its denial, when, in a civil case of a halfpenny cake, he may plead either by himself or by his advocate ? That the court is counsel for the prisoner can be no effectu- al reason; for so they are for each party, that right may be done.' — (Somer's Tracts, vol. ii. p. 56S.) In the trial of Thomas Rosewell, a dissenting clergyman, for high treason in 16S4, Judge Jeffries, in summing up, confessed t© the jury, ' that he thought it a hard case, that a man should have counsel to defend him- self for a twopenny trespass, and his witnesses be ex- amined upon oath; but if he stole, committed murder or felony, nay, high treason, where life, estate, hon- our, and all were concerned, that he should neither have counsel, nor have his witnesses examined upon oath.' — Howell's State Trials, vol. x. p. 207. There have been two capital errors in the criminal codes of feudal Europe, from which a great variety of mistake and injustice have proceeded ; the one, a dis- position to confound accusation with guilt ; the other, to mistake a defence of prisoners accused by the crown, for disloyalty and disaffection to the crown ; and from these errors our own code has been slowly and gradually recovering, by all those struggles and exertions which it always costs to remove folly sajic- tioned by antiquity. In the early periods of our histGry , the accused person could call no evidence : — then, for a long time, his evidence against the king could not be examined upon oath; consequently, he might as well have produced none, as all iii? evidence against him was upon oath. Till the reign of Anne, no one accus- ed of felony could produce witnesses upon oath; and the old practice was vindicated, in opposition to the new one, introduced under the statute of that day, on the grounds of humanity and tenderness to the pris- oner ! because, as his witnesses were not restricted by an oath, they were at liberty to indulge in simple falsehood as much as they pleased; — so argued the blessed defenders of nonsense in those days. Then it was ruled to be indecent and improper that counsel should be employed against the crown ; and, there- fore, the prisoner accused of treason could have no counsel to assist him in the trial. Counsel might in- deed stay in the court, but apart from the prisoner, with whom they could have no communication. They were not allowed to put any question, or to suggest any doubtful point of law; but if the prisoner (likely to be a weak unlettered man) could himself suggest any doubt in matter of law, the court determined first if the question of law should be entertained, and then assigned counsel to argue it. In those times, the jury were punishable if they gave a false verdict against the king, but were not punishable if they gave a false verdict against the prisoner. The preamble of the Act of 1696 runs thus — ( Whereas it is expedient that persons charged with high treason should make a full and sufficient defence.' Might it not be altered to persons charged with any species or degree of crime ? COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS. 167 All these errors have given way to the force of truth, and to the power of common sense and common hu- manity — the Attorney and Solicitor General, for the time being, always protesting against each alteration, and regularly and officially prophesying the utter de- struction of the whole jurisprudence of Great Britain. There is no man now alive, perhaps, so utterly fool- ish, as to propose that prisoners should be prevented from producing evidence upon oath, and being heard by their counsel in cases of high treason ; and yet it cost a struggle for seven sessions to get. this measure through the two houses of Parliament. But mankind are much like the children they beget — they always make wry faces at what is to do them good ; and it is necessary sometimes to hold the nose, and force the medicine down the throat. They enjoy the health and vigour consequent upon the medicine : but culf the doctor, and sputter at his stuff.' A most absurd argument was advanced in the hon. ourable house, thai, the practice of employing counsel would be such an expense to the prisoner ! — just as if any thing Avas so expensive as being hanged ! What a hue topic for the ordinary .' i You are going' (sa)^s that exquisite divine) ' to be hanged to-morrow, it is true, but consider what a sum you have saved ! Mr. Scarlett or Mr. Brougham might certainly have pre- sented arguments to the jury, which would have in- sured your acquittal ; but do you forget that gentle- men of their eminence must be recompensed by large fees, and that, if your life had been saved, you would actually have been out of pocket above 20/.? You will now die with the consciousness of having obeyed the dictates of a wise economy ; and with a grateful reverence for the laws of your country, which prevents you from running into such unbounded expense — so let us now go to prayers.' It is ludicrous enough to recollect, when the em- ployment of counsel is" objected to on account of the expense to the prisoner, that the same merciful law, which, to save the prisoner's money has denied him counsel, and produced his conviction, seizes upon all his savings the moment he is convicted. Of all false and foolish dicta, the most trite and the most absurd is that which asserts that the judge is counsel for the prisoner. We do not hesitate to say that this is merely an unmeaning phrase, invented to defend a pernicious abuse. The judge cannot be coun- sel for the prisoner, ought not to be counsel for the prisoner, never is counsel for the prisoner. To force an ignorant man into a court of justice, and to tell him that the judge is his counsel, appears to us quite as foolish as to set a hungry man down to his meals, and to tell him that the table was his dinner. In the first place, a counsel should always have private and previous communication with the prisoner, which the judge, of course, cannot have. The prisoner reveals to his counsel how far he is guilty, or he is not ; states to him all the circumstance of his case — and might often enable his advocate, if his advocate were allow- ed to speak, to explain a long string of circumstantial evidence, in a manner favourable to the innocence of his client. Of all these advantages, the judge, if he had every disposition to befriend the prisoner, is of course deprived. Something occurs to a prisoner in the course of the cause ; he suggests it in a whisper to his counsel, doubtful if it is a wise point to urge or not. His counsel thinks it of importance, and would urge it, if his mouth were not shut. Can a prisoner have this secret communication with a judge, and take his advice, whether or not he, the judge, shall mention it to the jury? The counsel has (after all the evidence has been given) a bad opinion of his cli- ent's case ; but he suppresses that opinion ; and it is nis duty to do so. He is not to decide ; that is the province of the jury : and, in spite of his own opinion, his client may be innocent. He is brought there (or would be brought there if the privilege of speech were allowed) for the express purpose of saying all that could be said on one side of the question. He is a weight in one scale, and some one else holds the ba- lance. This is the way in which truth is elicited in civil, and would be in criminal cases. But does the Judge ever assume the appearance of'Delieving a pris- j oner to be innocent whom he thinks to be guilty? If the prisoner advances inconclusive or weak arguments, ' does not the judge say they are weak and inconclu- sive, and does he not often sum up against his own client ? How then is he counsel for the prisoner ? If the counsel for the prisoner were to see a strong point, which the counsel for the prosecution had missed, would he supply the deficiency of his antagonist, and urge what had been neglected to be urged { But is it not the imperious duty of the judge to do so? How then can these two functionaries stand in the same re- lation to the prisoner l In fact the only meaning of the phrase is this, that the judge will not suffer any undue advantage to be taken of the ignorance and helplessness of the prisoner — that he will point out any evidence or circumstance in his favour — and see that equal justice is done to both parties. But in this sense he is as much the counsel of the prosecutor as of the prisoner. This is all the judge can do, or even pretends to do ; but he can have no previous commu- nication with the prisoner — he can have no confiden- tial communication in court with the prisoner before he sums up ; he cannot fling the whole weight of his understanding into the opposite scale against the counsel for the prosecution, and produce that collision of faculties, which, in all other cases but those of felony, is supposed to be the happiest method of ar- riving at truth. Baron Garrow, in his charge to the grand jury at Exeter, on the 16th of August, 1824. thus expressed his opinion of a judge being counsel for the prisoner. ' It has been said, and truly said, that in criminal courts, judges were counsel for the prisoners. So undoubtedly they were, as far as they could to prevent undue prejudice, to guard against im- proper influence being excited against prisoners ; but it was impossible for them to go farther than this ; for they could not suggest the course of defence pris- oners ought to pursue ; for judges only saw the depo- sitions so short a time before the accused appeared at the bar of their country, that it was quite impossi- ble for them to act fully in that capacity.' The learn, ed Baron might have added, that it would be more correct to call the judge counsel for the prosecution, for his only previous instructions were the depositions for the prosecution, from which, in the absence of counsel, he examined the evidence against the pris- oner. On the prisoner's behalf he had no instructions at all. Can any thing, then, be more flagrantly and scanda- lously unjust, than, in a long case of circumstantial evidence, to refuse to a prisoner the benefit of coun- sel? A foot-mark, a word, a sound, a tool dropped,— all gave birth to the most ingenious inferences ; and the counsel for the prosecution is so far from being blamable for entering into all these things, that they are all essential to the detection of guilt, and they are all links of a long and intricate chain : but if a close examination into, and a logical statement of, all these circumstances be necessary for the establishment of guilt, is not the same closeness of reasoning and the same logical statement necessary for the establish- ment of innocence ? If justice cannot be done to soci- ety without the intervention of a practised and ingeni- ous mind, who may connect all these links together, and make them clear to the apprehension of a jury,— can nisi ice be done to the prisoner, unless similar practice and similar ingenuity are employed to detect the flaws of the chain, and to point out the disconnec- tion of the circumstances? Is there any one gentleman in the House of Com- mons, who, in yielding his vote to this paltry and perilous fallacy of the judge being counsel for the prisoner, does not feel, that, were he himself a crimi- nal, he would prefer almost any counsel at the bar,— to the tender mercies of the judge ? How strange that any man who could make his election would eagerly and diligently surrender this exquisite privi- lege, and addict himself to the perilous practice of giving fees to counsel ? Nor let us forget, in consid- ering judges as counsel for the prisoner, that there have been such men as Chief Justice Jeffries, Mr. Justice Page, and Mr. Justice Alybone, and that, — ia bad times, such men may reappear. ' If you do not WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. allow me counsel, my lords (says LordLovat), it is im- possible for me to make any defence, by reason of my infirmity. I do not see, I do not hear. I come up to the bar at the hazard of my life. I have fainted several times, I have been up so early, ever since four o'clock this morning. I therefore ask for assistance ; and if you do not allow me counsel, or such aid as is necessary, it will be impossible for me to make any defence at all.' Though Lord Lovat's guilt was evident, yet the man- agers of the impeachment felt so strongly the injustice which was done, that, by the hands of Sir W. Young, the chief manager, a bill was brought into parliament, to allow counsel to persons impeached by that house, which was not previously the case ; so that the evil is already done away with, in a great measure, to per- sons of rank : it so happens in legislation, when a gentleman suffers, public attention is awakened to the evil of laws. Every man who makes laws says, — This may be my case :' but it requires the repeated efforts of humane men, or, as Mr. North calls them, — dilettanti philosophers, to awaken the attention of lawmakers to evils from which they are themselves exempt. We do not say this to make the leaders of mankind unpopular, but to rouse their earnest atten- tion in cases where the poor only are concerned, — and where neither good nor evil can happen to themselves. A great stress is laid upon the moderation of the opening counsel ; that is, he does not conjure the far- mers in the jury-box, by the love which they bear to their children — he does not declaim upon blood guilti- ness — he does not describe the death of Abel by Caiu ? the first murderer — he does not describe scattered brains, ghastly wounds, pale features, and hair clotted with gore — he does not do a thousand things, which are not in English taste, and which it would be very foolish and very vulgar to do. We really allow all this. But yet, if it be a cause of importance, it is es- sentially necessary to our counsellor's reputation that his man should be hung ! And accordingly, with a very calm voice, and composed manner, and with many expressions of candour, he sets himself to com- ment astutely upon the circumstances. Distant events are immediately connected ; meaning is given to in- significant facts ; new motives are ascribed to innocent actions ; farmer gives way after farmer in the jury- box ; and a rope of eloquence is woven round the pri- soner's neck ! Every one is delighted with the talents of the advocate ; and because there has been no noise, no violent action, and no consequent perspiration, he is praised for his candour and forbearance, and the len ity of our laws is the theme of universal approbation. In the mean time, the speech-maker and the prisoner know better. *• We should be glad to know of any nation in the world, taxed by by kings, or even imagined by poets (except the English), who have refused to prisoners the benefit of counsel. Why is the voice of humani- ty heard every where else, and disregarded here ? In Scotland, the accused have not only counsel to speak for them, but a copy of the indictment, and a list of the witnesses. In France, in the Netherlands, in the whole of Europe, counsel are allotted as a matter of course. Every where else but here, accusation is con- sidered as unfavourable to the exercise of human facul- ties. It is admitted to be that crisis in which, above all others, an unhappy man wants the aid of elo- quence, wisdom, and coolness. In France the Napo- leon code has provided not only that counsel should be allowed to the prisoner, but that, as with us in Scot- land, his counsel should have the last word. It is a most affecting moment in a court of justice, when the evidence has all been heard, and the judge asks the prisoner what he has to say in his defence. The prisoner, who has (by great exertions, perhaps of his friends,) saved up money enough to procure coun- sel, says to the judge, ' that he leaves his defence to his counsel.' We have often blushed for English hu- manity to hear the reply. ' Your counsel cannot speak for you, you must speak for yourself; and this is the reply given to a poor girl of eighteen — to a foreigner — to a deaf man — to a stammerer — to the sick — to the feeble— to the old— to the most abject and ignorant of human beings ! It is a reply, we must say, at which common sense and common feeling revolt : — for it is full of brutal cruelty, and of base inattention of those who make laws, to the happiness of those for whom laws were made. We wonder that any juryman can convict under such a shocking violation of all natural justice. The iron age of Clovis and Clottaire can pro- duce no more atrocious violation of every good feel- ing, and every good principle. Can a sick man find strength and nerves to speak before a large assembly ? — can an ignorant man find words? — can a low man find confidence ? Is not he afraid of becoming an ob- ject of ridicule ? — can he believe that his expressions will be understood ? How often have we seen a poor wretch, struggling against the agonies of his spirit, and the rudeness of his conceptions, and his awe of better dressed men and better taught men, and the shame which the accusation has brought upon his head, and the sight of his parents and children gazing at him in the court, for the last time, perhaps, and alter a long absence ? The mariner sinking in the wave does not want a helping hand more than does this poor wretch. But help is denied to all ! Age cannot have it, nor ignorance, nor the modesty of wo- men .' One hard uncharitable rule silences the defen- ders of the wretched, in the worst of human evils ; and at the bitterest of human moments, mercy is blotted out from the ways of men ! Suppose a crime to have been committed under the influence of insanity; is the insane man, now conva- lescent, to plead his own insanity ? — to offer arguments to show that he must have been mad ? — and, by the glimmerings of his returning reason, to prove that, at a former period, that same reason was utterly extinct ? These are the cruel situations into which judges and courts of justice are thrown by the present state of the law. There is a judge now upon the bench, who never took away the life of a fellow creature without shut- ting himself up alone and giving the most profound at- tention to every circumstance of the case ! and this solemn act he always premises with his own beauti- ful prayer to God, that he will enlighten him with his Divine Spirit in the exercise of this terrible privilege ! Now would it not be an immense satisfaction to this feeling and honourable magistrate, to be sure that eve- ry witness on the side of the prisoner had been heard, and that every argument which could be urged in his favour had been brought forward, by a man whose duty it was to see only" on one side of the question, and whose interest and reputation was thoroughly em- barked in this partial exertion ? If a judge fails to get at the truth, after these instruments of investigation are used, his failure must be attributed to the limited powers of man — not to the want of good inclination, or wise institutions. We are surprised that such a mea- sure does not come into Parliament, with the strong recommendation of the judges. It is surely better to be a day longer on the circuit, than to murder rapidly in ermine. It is argued, that, among the various pleas for mer- cy that are offered, no prisoner has ever urged to the secretary of state the disadvantage of having no coun- sel to plead for him ; but a prisoner who dislikes to undergo his sentence, naturally addresses to those who can reverse it such arguments' only as will produce, in the opinion of the referee, a pleasing effect. He does not therefore fiud fault with the established system of jurisprudence, but brings forward facts and arguments to prove his own innocence. Besides, how few peo- ple there are who can elevate themselves from the ac- quiescence in what is, to the consideration of what ought to be • and if they could do so, the way to get rid of a punishment is not (as we have just observed) to say, ' you have no right to puuish me in this man- ner,' but to say, ' I am innocent of the offence.' The fraudulent baker at Constantinople, who is about to be baked to death in his own oven, does not complain of the severity of baking bakers, but promises to use more flour and less fraud. Whence comes it (we should like to ask Sir John Singleton Copley, who seems to dread so much the conflicts of talent in criminal cases) that a method of getting at truth which is found so serviceable in civil COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS. 1.-J9 cases should be so much objected to in criminal ca- ses? Would you have all this wrangling and bicker- ing, it is asked, and contentious eloquence, when the life of a man is concerned? Why not, as well as when his property is concerned? It is either a good means of doing justice, or it is not, that two under standings should be put in opposition to each other, and that a third should decide between them. Does this open every view which can bear upon the ques tion ? Does it in the most effectual manner watch the judge, detect perjury, and sift evidence? If not, why is it suffered to disgrace our civil institutions? If it effect all these objects, why is it not incorporated into our criminal law ? Of what importance is a little dis- gust at professional tricks, if the solid advantage gain- ed is a nearer approximation to truth? Can any thing be more preposterous than this preference of taste to justice, and of solemnity to truth 2 What an eulogium of a trial to say, ' I am by no means satisfied that the jury were right in finding the prisoner guilty ; but eve- ry thing was carried on with the utmost decorum. The verdict was wrong ; but there was the most per- fect propriety and order in the proceedings. The man will be unfairly hanged ; but all was genteel V If so- lemnity is what is principally wanted in a court of justice", we had better study the manners of the old Spanish Inquisition ; but if battles with the judge, and battles among the counsel, are the best method, as they certainly are, of getting at the truth, better tole- rate this philosophical Billingsgate, than persevere, because the fife of a man is at stake, in solemn and polished injustice. Why would it not be just as wise and equitable to leave the defendant without counsel in civil cases, and to tell him that the judge was his counsel? And if the reply is to produce such injurious effects as are anticipated upon the minds of the jury in criminal cases, why not in civil cases also ? In twenty-eight cases out of thirty, the verdict in civil cases is correct : in the two remaining cases, the error may proceed from other causes than the right of reply ; and yet the right of reply has existed iu all. In a vast majority of cases, the verdict, is for the plaintiff, not because there is a right ot reply, but because he who has it in his power to decide whether he will go to law or not, and resolves to expose himself to the expense and trouble of a lawsuit, has probably a good foundation for his claim. Nobody, of course, can intend to say that the majority of verdicts in favour of plaintiffs are against justice, and merely attributable to the advan- tage of a last speech. If this were the case, the sooner advocates are turned out of court the better— and then the improvement of both civil and criminal law would be an abolition of ail speeches ; for those who dread the effect of the last word upon the fate of the priso- ner, must remember that there is at present always a last speech against the prisoner } for, as the counsel for the prosecution cannot be replied to, his is the last speech. There is certainly this difference between a civil and a criminal case — that in one a new trial can be granted, in the other not. But you must first make up your mind whether this system of contentious in- vestigation by opposite advocates is or is not the best method of getting at truth: if it be, the more irreme- diable the decision, the more powerful and perfect should be the means of deciding ; and then it would be a less oppression if the civil defendent were de- prived of counsel than the criminal prisoner. When an error has been committed, the advantage is greater to the latter of these persons than to the former ; the criminal is not tried again, but pardoned ; while the civil defendant must run the chance of another jury. If the effect of reply, and the contention, of counsel have all these baneful consequences in felony, why not also in misdemeanour and high treason ? Halt the cases at sessions are cases of misdemeanour, where counsel are employed and half-informed justices pre- side instead of learned judges. There are no com- plaints of the unfairness of verdicts, though there are every now and then of the severity of punishments. Now, if the reasoning of Mr. Lamb's opponents were true, the disturbing force of the prisoner's counsel must fling every thing into confusion. The court fa misdemeanours must be a scene of riot and perpiexi ty ; and the detection and punishment of crime must be utterly impossible : and yet in the very teeth of these objections, such courts of justice are just as or- derly in one set of offences as the other ; and the con- viction of a guilty person just as certain and as easy. The prosecutor (if this system were altered) would have the choice of counsel : so he has now — with this difference, that, at present, his counsel cannot be an- swered nor opposed. It would be better in all cases, if two men of exactly equal talent could be opposed to each other ; but as this is impossible, the system must be taken with this inconvenience ; but there can be no inequality between counsel so great as that be- tween any counsel and the prisoner pleading for him- self. < It has been lately my lot,' says Mr. Denman, 1 to try two prisoners who were deaf and dumb, and who could only be made to understand what was passing by the signs of their friends. The cases were clear and simple ; but if they had been circumstantial cases, in what a situation would the judge and jury be placed, when the prisoner could have no counsel to plead for him. — Debates of the House of Commons, April, 25, 1826. The folly of being counsel for yourself is so notori- ous in civil cases, that it has grown into a proverb. But the cruelty of the law compels a man, in criminal cases, to be guilty of a much greater act of folly, and to trust his life to an advocate, who, by the common sense' of mankind, is pronounced to be inadequate to defend the possession of an acre of land. In all cases it must be supposed, that reasonably convenient in- struments are selected to effect the purpose in view. A judge may be commonly presumed to understand his profession, and a jury to have a fair allowance of common sense ; but the objectors to the improvement we recommend appear to make no such suppositions. Counsel are always to make flashy addresses to the passions. Juries are to be so much struck with them, that they are always to acquit or to condemn, contra- ry to justice ; and judges are always to be so biassed, that they are to fling themselves rashly into the oppo- site scale against the prisoner. Many cases of misde- meanour consign a man to infamy, and cast a blot upon his posterity. Judges and juries must feel these cases as strongly as any cases of felony ; and yet, in spite of this, and in spite of the free permission of counsel to speak, they preserve their judgment, and command their feelings, surprisingly. Generally speak- ing, we believe none of these evils would take place. Trumpery declamation would be considered as discre- ditable to the counsel, and would be disregarded by the jury. The judge and jury (as in civil cases) would gain the habit of looking to the facts, selecting the arguments, and coming to reasonable conclusions. It is so in all other countries, and it would be so in this. But the vigilance of the judge is to relax, if there is counsel for the prisoner. Is, then, the relaxed vigi- lance of the judges complained of, in high treason, in misdemeanour, or in civil cases ? This appears to us really to shut up the debate, and to preclude reply. Why is' the practice so good in all other cases, and so pernicious in felony alone ? This question has never received even the shadow of an answer. There is no one objection against the allowance of counsel to pri soners in felony, which does not apply to them in all cases. If the vigilance of judges depend upon this in- justice to the prisoner, then, the greater injustice to the prisoner, the more vigilance ; and so the true me- thod of perfecting the Bench would be, to deny the prisoner the power of calling witnesses, and to in- crease, as much as possible, the disparity between the accuser and the accused. We hope men are selected for the Judges of Israel, whose vigilance depends upon better and higher principles. But the most singular caprice of the law is, that counsel are permitted in very high crimes, and in very small crimes, and denied in crimes of a sort of medi- um description. In high treason, where you mean to murder Lord Liverpool, and to levy war against the people, and to blow up the two houses of Parliament all the lawyers of Westminster Hall may talk them- 170 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. selves dry, and the jury deaf. Lord Eldon, when at the bar, has been heard for nine hours on such sub- jects. If, instead of producing the destruction of five thousand people, you are indicted for the murder of one person, here human faculties, from the diminution of guilt, are supposed to be so clear and unclouded, that the prisoner is quite adequate to make his own defence, and no cousel *re allowed. Take it, then, upon that principle ; and let the rule, and the reason of it, pass as sufficient. But if, instead of murdering the man, you have only libelled him, then, for some reason or another, though utterly unknown to us, the original faculties in accused persons is respected, and counsel are allowed. Was qver such nonsense defend- ed by public men in grave assemblies ? The prosecu- tor, too, (as Mr. Horace Twiss justly observes) can either allow or disallow counsel, by selecting his form of prosecution ; as where a mob had assembled to re- peal, by riot and force, some unpopular statute, and certain persons had continued in that assembly for more than an hour after proclamation to disperse. — That might be treated as levying war against the king, and then the prisoner would be entitled to receive (as Lord George Gordon did receive) the benefit of counsel. It might also be treated as a seditious riot ; then it would be a misdemeanor, and counsel would still be allowed. But if government had a mind to de- stroy the prisoner effectually, they have only to ab- stain from the charge of treason, and to introduce into the indictment the aggravation, that the prisoner had continued with the mob for an hour after proclamation to disperse ; this is a felony, the prisoner's life is in jeopardy, and counsel are effectually excluded. It pro- duces, in many other cases disconnected with treason, the most scandalous injustice. A receiver of stolen goods, who employs a young girl to rob her master, may be tried for the misdemeanour; the young girl, taken afterwards, would be tried for the felony. The receiver would be punishable only with fine, imprison- ment, or whipping, and he could have counsel to de- fend him. The girl indicted for felony, and liable to death, would enjoy no such advantage. In the comparison between felony and treason, there are certainly some arguments why counsel should be allowed in felony rather than in treason. Persons ac- cused of treason are generally persons of education and rank, accustomed to assemblies, and to public speaking, while men accused of felony are commonly of the lowest of the people. If it be true, that judges, in cases of high treason, are more liable to be influ- enced by the crown, and to lean against the prisoner, this cannot apply to cases of misdemeanour, or to the defendants in civil cases ; but if it be necessary that judges should be watched in political cases, how often are cases of felony connected with political disaffec- tion ? Every judge, too, has his idiosyncrasies, which require to be watched. Some hate Dissenters, some mobs ; some have one weakness, some another ; and the ultimate truth is, that no court of justice is safe, unless there is some one present whose occupation and interest it is to watch the safety of the prisoner. Till then, no man of right feeling can be easy at the ad- ministration of justice, and the punishment of death. Two men are accused of one offence ; the one dex- terous, bold, subtle, gifted with speech, and remarka- ble for presence of mind ; the other timid, hesitating, and confused ; is there any reason why the chances of these two men for acquittal should be, as they are, so very different ? Inequalities there will be in the means of defence under the best system, but there is no occa- sion the law should make these greater than they are left to chance and nature. But (it is asked) what practical injustice is done — what practical evil is there in the present system ? The great object of all law is, that the guilty should be punished, and the innocent should be acquitted. A very great majority of prisoners, we admit, are guilty, and so clearly guilty, that we believe they would be found guilty under any system : but among the number of those who are tried., some are innocent, and the chance of establishing their innocence is very much diminished by the privation of counsel. In the course of twenty or thirty years, among the whole mass of English prisoners, we believe many are found guilty who are innocent, and would not have been found guilty, if an able and intelligent man had watched over their interest, and represented their ?ase. If this happen only to two or three every year, it is quite a sufficient reason why the law should be altered. That such cases exist we firmly believe ; and this is the practical evil — perceptible to men of sense and reflec- tion ; but not likely to become the subject of general petition. To ask why there are not petitions — why the evil is not more noticed, is mere parliamentary froth and ministerial juggling. Gentlemen are rarely hung. If they were so, there would be petitions without end for counsel. The creatures exposed to the cruelties and injustice of the law are dumb creatures, who feel the evil without being able to express their feelings. Besides, the question is not, whether the evil is found out, but whether the evil exist. Whoever thinks it is an evil should vote against it, whether the sufferer from the injustice discover it to be an injustice, or whether he suffer in ignorant silence. When the bill was enacted, which allowed counsel for treason, there was not a petition from one end of England to the other. Can there be a more shocking answer from the ministerial bench, than to say, For real evil we care nothing — only for detected evil? We will set about curing any wrong which affects our popularity and power: but as to any other evil, we wait till the people find it out ; and, in the mean time, commit such evils to the care of Mr. George Lamb, and of Sir James Mackintosh. We are sure so good a man as Mr. Peel can never feel in this man- ner. Howard devoted himself to his country. It was a noble example. Let two gentlemen on the ministerial side of the house (we only ask for two) commit some crimes, which will render their execution a matter of painful necessity. Let them feel, and report to the house, all the injustice and inconvenience of having neither a copy of the indictment, nor a list of witness- es, nor counsel to defend them. We will venture to say, that the evidence of two such persons would do more for the improvement of the criminal law, than all the orations of Mr. Lamb, or the lucubrations of Beccaria. Such evidence would save time, and bring the question to an issue. It is a great duty, and ought to be fulfilled ; and, in ancient Rome, would have been fulfilled. The opponents always forget that Mr. Lamb's plan is not to compel prisoners to have counsel, but to allow them to have counsel if they choose to do so. Depend upon it, as Dr. Johnson says, when a man is going to be hanged, his faculties are wonderfully concentrated. If it be really true, as the defenders of Mumpsimus observe, that the judge is the best counsel for the prisoner, the prisoner will soon learn to employ him, especially as his lordship works without fees. All that we want is an option 'given to the prisoner, that a man, left to adopt his own means of defence in every trifling civil right, may have the same power of selecting his own auxiliaries for higher interests. But nothing can be more unjust than to speak of judges, as if they were of one standard, and one heart and head pattern. The great majority of judges, we have no doubt, are upright and pure ; but some have been selected for flexible politics — some are passion- ate — some are in a hurry — some are violent church- men — some resemble ancient females — some have the gout— some are eighty years old— some are blind, deaf, and have lost the power of smelling. All one to the unhappy prisoner — he has no choice. It is impossible to put so gross an insult upon judg- es, jurymen, grand-jusymen, or any person connected with the administration of justice, as to suppose that the longer time to be taken up by speeches of counsel constitutes the grand bar to the proposed alteration. If three hours would acquit a man, and he is hanged because he is only allowed two hours for his defence, the poor man is as much murdered as if his throat had been cut before he came into court. If twelve judges cannot do the most perfect justice, other twelve must be appointed. Strange administration of criminal law, to adhere obstinately to an inadequate number of CATHOLIC QUESTION. 171 judges, and to refuse any improvement which is in- compatible with this arbitrary and capricious enact- ment. Neither is it quite certain that the proposed alteration would create a greater demand upon the lime of the court. At present the counsel makes a defence by long cross-examinations and examinations in chief of the witnesses, and the judge allows a great- er latitude than he would do, if the counsel of the pri- soner were permitted to speak. The counsel by these oblique methods, and by stating false points of law for the express purpose of introducing facts, endea- vours to obviate the injustice of the law, and takes up more time by this oblique, than he would do by a di- rect defence. But the best answer to this objection of time (which, if true, is no objection at all) is, that as many misdemeanors as felonies are tried in a given time, though counsel are allowed in the former, and not in the latter case. One excuse for the absence of counsel is that the evi- dence upon which the prisoner is convicted is always so clear, that the counsel cannot gainsay it. This is mere absurdity. There is not, and cannot be such a rule. Many a man has been hung upon a string of cir- cumstantial evidence, which not only very ingenious men, but very candid and judicious men, might criti- cise and call in question. If no one were found guilty but upon such evidence as would not admit of a doubt, half the crimes in the world would be unpunished. This dictum, by which the present practice has often been defended, was adopted by Lord Chancellor Not- tingham. To the lot ot this chancellor, however, it fell to pass sentence of death upon Lord Stafford, whom (as Mr. Denman justly observes) no court of justice, not even the house of lords (constituted as it was in those days) could have put to death, it he had had counsel to defend him. To improve the criminal law of England, and to make it really deserving of the incessant eulogium which is lavished upon it, we would assimilate tri- als for felony to trials for high treason. The pri- soner should not only have counsel, but a copy of the indictment and a list of the witnesses, many days antecedent to the trial. It is in the highest de- gree, unjust that I should not see and study the de- scription of the crime with which I am charged, if the most scrupulous exactness be required in that instru- ment which charges me with crime. If the place where, the time when, and the manner how, and the persons by whom, must all be specified with the most perfect ac- curacy, if any deviation from this accuracy is fatal, the prisoner, or his legal advisers, should have a full oppor- tunity ot judging whether the scruples of the law have been attended to in the formation of the indictment ; and they ought not to be confined to the hasty and im- perfect consideration which can be given to an indict- ment exhibited for the first time in court. Neither is it possible for the prisoner to repel accusation till he knows who is to be brought against him. He may see suddenly, stuck up in the witness's box, a man who has been writing him letters, to extort money from the threat of evidence he could produce. The character of such a witness would be destroyed in a moment, if the letters were produced ; and the letters would have been produced, of course, if the prisoner had imagined such a person would have been brought forward by the prosecutor. It is utterly impossible r"or a prisoner to know in what way he may be assail- ed, and against what species of attack he is to guard. Conversations may be brought against him which he has forgotten, and to which he could (upon notice) have given another colour and complexion. Actions are made to bear upon his case, which (if he had known they would have been referred to) might have been explained hi the most satisfactory manner. All these modes of attack are pointed out by the list of witnesses transmitted to the prisoner, and he has time to prepare his answer, as it is perfectly just he should have. This is justice, when a prisoner has ample means of compelling the attendance of his wit- nesses; when his written accusation is put into his hand, and he has time to study it — when he knows in what maimer his guilt is to be proved, and when he has a man of practised understanding to state his facts, and prefer his arguments. Then criminal jus- tice may march on boldly. The judge has no stain of blood on his ermine ; and the phrases which English people are so fond of lavishing upon the humanity of their laws, will have a real foundation. At present this part of the law is a mere relic of the barbarous in- justice by which accusation in the early part of our ju- risprudence was always confounded with guilt. The greater part of these abuses have been brushed away, as this cannot fail soon to be. In the mean time it is defended (as every other abuse has been defended) by men who think it their duty to defend every thing which is, and to dread every thing which is not. We are told that the judge does what he does not do, and ought not to do. The most pernicious effects are an- ticipated in trials of felony, from that which is found to produce the most perfect justice in civil causes, and in cases of treason and misdemeanor : we are called upon to continue a practice without example in any other country, and are required by lawyers to consider that custom as humane, which every one who is not a lawyer pronounces to be most cruel and unjust — ana which has not been brought forward to general notice, only because its bad effects are confined to the last and lowest of mankind.* CATHOLICS. (Edinburgh Review, 1827.) 1. A Plain Statementin support of the Political Claims of the Roman Catholics ; in a Letter to the Rev. Sir George Lee, Bart. By Lord Nugent, Member of Parliament for Ayles- bury. London, Hookham. 1S26. 3. A Letter to Viscount Milton, M. P. By One of his Con- stituents. London, Ridgway. 1827. 3. Charge by the Archbishop of Cashel. Dublin, Milliken. If a poor man were to accept a guinea upon the condition that he spoke all the evil he could of another whom he believed to be innocent, and whose priva- tions he knew he should increase by his false testi- mony, would not the person so hired be one of the worst and basest of human beings ? And would not his guilt be aggravated, if, up to the moment of re- ceiving his aceldama, he had spoken in terms of high praise of the person whom he subsequently accused ? Would not the latter feature of the case prove him to be as much without shame as the former evinced him to be without principle ? Would the guilt be less, if the person so hired were a man of education ? Would it be less, if he were above want '( Would it be less, if the profession and occupation of his life were to decide men's rights, or to teach them morals and religion ? Would it be less by the splendour of the bribe ? Does a bribe of 3000Z. leave a man innocent, whom a bribe of 30Z. would cover with infamy ? You are of a mature pe- riod of life, when the opinions of an honest man ought to be, and are fixed. On Monday you were a barrister or a country clergyman, a serious and temperate friend to religious liberty and Catholic emancipation. In a few weeks from this time you are a bishop, or a dean, of a judge — publishing and speaking charges and ser- mons against the poor Catholics, and explaining away this sale of your soul by every species of falsehood, shabbiness, and equivocation. You may carry a bit of ermine on your shoulder, or hide the lower moiety of the body in a silken petticoat — and men may call you Mr. Dean, or My Lord ; but you have sold your honour and your conscience for money ; and, though better paid, you are as base as the witness who stands at the door of the judgment-hall, to swear whatever the suborner will put into his mouth, and to receive whatever he will put in his pocket. f When soldiers exercise, there stands a goodly port- ly person out of the ranks, upon whom all eyes are directed, and whose signs and motions, in the per- * All this nonsense is now put an end to. Counsel is al- lowed to the prisoner, and they are permitted to speak in his defence. t It is very far from our intention to say that all who were for the Catholics, and are now against them, have made this change from base motives ; it is equally far from our intention not to say that many men of both professions have subjected themselves to this shocking imputation. 172 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. formance of the manual exercise, all the soldiers fol- low. The Germans, we believe, call him a Flugel- man. We propose Lord Nugent as a political flugel- man ; — he is always consistent, plain and honest, steadily and straightly pursuing his object without hope or fear, under the influence of good feelings and high principle. The House of Commons does not con- tain within its walls a more honest, upright man. We seize upon the opportunity which this able pamphlet of his lordship affords us, to renew our at- tention to the Catholic question. There is little new to be said; but we must not be silent, or, in these days of baseness and tergiversation, we shall be sup- posed to have deserted our friend the Pope ; and they will say of us, Prostant venalesapud Lambeth et White- hall. God forbid it should ever be said of us with justice — it is pleasant to loll and roll, and to accumu- late — to be a purple and fine linen man, and to be called by some of those nicknames which frail and ephemeral beings are so fond of accumulating upon each other ; — but the best thing of all is to live like honest men, and to add something to the cause of liberality, justice, and truth. The Letter to Lord Milton is very well and very pleasantly written. We were delighted with the liberality and candour of the Archbishop of Cashel. The charge is in the highest degree creditable to him. He must lay his account for the furious hatred of bi- gots, and the incessant gnawing of rats. There are many men who (thoroughly aware that the Catholic question must be ultimately carried) de- lay their acquiescence till the last moment, and wait tiJJ the moment of peril and civil war before they yield. That this moment is not quite so remote as was supposed a twelvemonth since, the events now- passing in the world seem to afford the strongest proof. The truth is, that the disaffected state of Ire- land is a standing premium for war with every cabinet in Europe which has the most distant intention of quarrelling with this country for any other cause. ' If we are to go to war, let us do so when the discontents of Ireland are at their greatest height, before any spirit of concession has been shown by the British cabinet. 1 Does any man imagine that so plain and obvious a principle has not been repeatedly urged on the French cabinet? — that the eyes of the Americans are shut upon the state of Ireland — and that the great and am- bitious republic will not, in case of war, aim a deadly blow at this most sensitive part of the British em- pire ? We should really say, that England has fully as much to fear from Irish fraternization with Ame- rica as with France. The language is the same ; the Americans have preceded them in the struggle ; the number of emigrant and rebel Irish is very great in America ; and all parties are sure of perfect tolera- tion under the protection of America. We are aston- ished at the madness and folly of Englishmen, who do not perceive that both France and America are only waiting for a convenient opportunity to go to war with this country ; and that one of the first blows aimed at our independence would be the invasion of Ireland. We should like to argue this matter with a regular tory lord, whose members voted steadily against the Catholic question. < I wonder that mere fear does not make you give up the Catholic question ! Do you mean to put this fine place in danger — the venison — the pictures — the pheasants — the cellars — the hot- house and the grapery? Should you like to see six or seven thousand French or Americans landed in Ire- land, and aided by a universal insurrection of the Ca- tholics ? Is it worth your while to run the risk of their success ? What evil from the possible encroach- ment of Catholics, by civil exertions, can equal the danger of such a position as this ? How can a man of your carriages, and horses, and hounds, think of putting your high fortune in such a predicament, and crying out, like a schoolboy or a chaplain, •' Oh, -we shall beat them ! we shall put the rascals down !" No Popery, I admit to your lordship, is a very con- venient cry at an election, and has answered your end ; but do not push the matter too far : to bring on a civil war, for no popery is a very foolish proceeding in a man who has two courses, and a remove ! As you value your side-board of plate, your broad riband, your pier glasses — if obsequious domestics and large rooms are dear to you — if you love ease and flattery, titles and coats of arms — if the labour of the French cook, the dedication of the expecting poet, can move you — if you hope for a long life of side-dishes — if you are not insensible to the periodical arrival of the turtle fleets — emancipate the Catholics ! Do it for your ease, do it for your insolence, do it for your safety — emancipate and eat, emancipate and drink — emanci- pate and preserve the rent-roll and tne family estate !' The most common excuse of the Great Shabby is, that the Catholics are their own enemies — that the vi- olence of Mr. O'Connell and Mr. Shiel have ruined their cause — that, but for these boisterous courses, the question would have been carried before this time. The answer to this nonsense and baseness is, that the very reverse is the fact. The mild and long-suffering may suffer forever in this world. It the Catholics had stood with their hands before them simpering at the Earls of Liverpool and the Lords Bathurst of the mo- ment, they would not have been emancipated till the year of our Lord four thousand. As long as the pa- tient will suffer, the cruel will kick. No treason — no rebellion — but as much stubborness and stoutness as the law permits — a thorough intimation that you know what is your due, and that you are determined to have it if you can lawfully get it. This is the conduct we recommend to the Irish. If they go on withholding, and forbearing, and hesitating whether this is the time for the discussion or that is the time, they will be laughed at for another century as fools — and kick- ed for another century as slaves. ' I must have my bill paid (says the sturdy and irritated tradesman) ; your master has put me off twenty times under differ- ent pretences. I know he is at home, and I will not quit the premises till I get the money.' Many a tradesman gets paid in this manner, who would soon smirk and smile himself into the gazette, if he trust- ed to the promises of the great. Can anything be so utterly childish and foolish as to talk of the bad taste of the Catholic leaders ? — as if, in a question of conferring on, or withholding impor- tant civil rights from seven millions of human beings, anything could arrest the attention of a wise man but the good or evil consequences of so great a measure. Suppose Mr. S. does smell slightly of tobacco — admit Mr. L. to be occasionally stimulated by rum and wa- ter, allow that Mr. F.was unfeeling in speaking of the Duke of York — what has all this nonsense to do with the extinction of religious hatred and the pacification of Ireland? Give it if it is right, refuse it if it is wrong. How it is asked, or how it is given or refused, is less than the dust of the balance. What is the reason why a good honest tory, living at ease on his possessions, is an enemy to Catholic emancipation? He admits the Catholic of his own rank to be a gentleman, and not a bad subject — and about theological disputes an excellent tory never troubles his head. Ot what importance is it to him whether an Irish Catholic or an Irish Protestant is a judge in the King's Bench at Dublin I None ; but I am afraid for the church of Ireland, says our alarmist. Why do you care so much for the church of Ireland, a country you never live in? — Answer — I do not care so much for the church of Ireland, if I was sure the Church of England tcould not be destroyed. — And is it for the Church of England alone that you fear ? — Answer- Not quite to that, but I am afraid we should all be lost, that every thing would be overturned, and that I should lose my rank and my estate. Here, then, we say, is a long series of dangers, which (it there were any chance of their ever taking place) would require half a century for their developement ; and the danger of losing Ireland by insurrection and invasion, which may happen in six months, is utterly overlooked, and for- gotten. And if a foreign influence should ever be fair- ly established in Ireland, how many hours would the Irish church, how many months would the English church, live after such an event ? How much is any English title worth after such an even*— any English family — any English estate ? We are astonished that CATHOLIC QUESTION. 173 whe brains of rich Englishmen do not fall down into their bellies in talking of the Catholic question — that they do not reason through the cardia and the pylorus — that all the organs ofdigestion do not become intel- lectual. The descendants of the proudest nobleman in England may become beggars in a foreign land from this disgraceful nonsense of the Catholic question — St only for the ancient females of a market town. What alarms us in the state of England is the un- certain basis on which its prosperity is placed — and the prodigious mass of hatred which the English gov- ernment continues, by its obstinate bigotry, to accu- mulate — eight hundred and forty millions sterling of debt — the revenue depending upon the demand for the shoes, stockings, and breeches of Europe— and seven millions of Catholics in a state of the greatest fury and exasperation. We persecute as if we did not owe a shilling — we spend as if we had no disaffection. This, by possibility, may go on ; but it is dangerous walking — the chance is, there will be a fall. No wise man should take such a course. All probabilities are against it. We are astonished that Lord Hertford and Lord Lowther, shrewd and calculating tories, do not see that it is nine to one against such a game. It is not only the event of war we fear in the milita- ry struggle with Ireland ; but the expense of war, and the expenses of the English government, are pav- ing the way for future revolutions. The world never yet saw so extravagant a government as the govern- ment of England. Not only is economy not practised — but it is despised ; and the idea of it connected with disaffection, Jacobinism, and Joseph Hume. Every rock in the ocean where a cormorant can perch is oc- cupied by our troops — has a governor, deputy-gover- nor, store-keeper, and deputy-store-keeper, — and will soon have an archdeacon and a bishop. Military col- leges, with twenty-four professors, educating seven-* teer. ensigns per annum, being half an ensign for each professor, with every species of nonsense, athletic, sartorial, and plumigerous. A just and necessary war costs this country about one hundred pounds a minute ; whipcord fifteen thousand pounds; red tape seven thousand pounds ; lace for drummers and lifers, nine- teen thousand pounds ; a pension to one man who has broken his head at the Pole ; to another who has shat- tered his leg at the Equator ; subsidies to Persia ; se- cret service money to Thibet ; an annuity to Lady Henry Somebody and her seven daughters — the hus- band being shot at some place where we never ought to have had any soldiers at all ; and the elder brother returning four members to Parliament. Such a scene of extravagance, corruption, and expense as must par- alyze the industry, and mar the fortunes, of the most industrious, spirited people that ever existed. Few men consider the historical view which will be taken of present events. The bubbles of last year ; the fishing for crowns in Vigo Bay ; the Milk Muffin and Crumpet Companies ; the Apple, Pear, and Plum Associations ; the National Gooseberry and Currant Company ; will all be remembered as instances of that partial madness to which society is occasionally ex- posed. What will be said of all the intolerable trash which is issued forth at public meetings of No Popery ? The follies of one century are scarcely credible in that which succeeds it. A grandmamma of 1827 is as wise as a very wise man of 1727. If the world lasts till 1927, the grandmother of that period will be far wiser than the tip-top No Popery of this day. That this childish nonsense will have got out of the drawing- room, there can be no doubt. It will most probably have passed through the steward's room — and butler's pantry, into the kitchen. This is the case with ghosts. They no longer loll on couches and sip tea ; but are down on their knees scrubbing with the scul- lion — or stand sweating and basting with the cook. Mrs. Abigal turns up her nose at them, and the house- Keeper declares for flesh and blood, and will have none of their company. It is delicious to the persecution-fanciers to reflect that no general bill has passed in favour of the Pro- testant Dissenters. They are still disqualified from holding any office — and are only protected from prose- cution by an annual indemnity act. So that the sword of Damocles still hangs over them — not suspended, in- deed, by a thread, but by a cart-rope — still it hangs there an insult, if not an injury, and prevents the pain- ful idea from presenting itself to the mind of perfect toleration, and pure justice. There is the lirva of ty- ranny, and the skeleton of malice. Now this is all we presume to ask for the Catholics — admission to Parlia- ment, exclusion from every possible office by law, and annual indemnity for the breach of law. This is sure- ly much more agreeable to feebleness, to littleness, and to narrowness, than to say the Catholics are as free and as eligible as ourselves. The most intolerable circumstance of the Catholic dispute is, the conduct of the Dissenters. Any nnn may dissent from the Church of England, and preach against it, by paying six-pence. Almost every trades- man in a market town is a preacher. It must abso- lutely be ride and tie with them ; the butcher must hear the baker in the morning, and the baker listen to the butcher in the afternoon, or there would be no congregation. We have often speculated upon the pe- culiar trade of the preacher from his style of action. Some have a tying-up or parcel-packing action ; some strike strongly against the anvil of the pulpit ; some screw, some bore, some act as if they were managing a needle. The occupation of the preceding week can seldom be mistaken. In the country, three or four thousand Ranters are sometimes encamped, supplica- ting in religious platoons, or roaring psalms out of waggons. Now, all this freedom is very proper ; be- cause, though it is abused, yet in truth there is no other principle in religious matters, than to let men alone as long as they keep the peace. Yet we should imagine this unbounded license of Dissenters should teach them a little charity towards the Catholics, and a little respect for their religious freedom. But the picture of sects is this — there are twenty fettered men in a jail, and every one is employed in loosening his own fetters with one hand, and rivetting those of his neighbour with the other. ' " If, then," says a minister of our own church, the Rev- erend John Fisher, rector of Wavenden, in this county, in a sermon published some years ago, and entitled "The Utility of the Church Establishment, and its Safety consis- tent with Religious Freedom" — "If, then, the Protestant religion could have originally worked its way in this coun- try against numbers, prejudices, bigotry, and interest; if, in times of its infancy, the power of the prince could not pre- vail against it ; surely, when confirmed by age, and rooted in the'affections of the people — when invested with author- ity, and in enjoyment of wealth and power — when cher- ished by a sovereign who holds his very throne by this sa- cred tenure, and whose conscientious attachment to it well warrants the title of Defender of the Faith—surely any at- tack upon it must be contemptible, any alarm of danger must be imaginary." '—Lord Nugent's Letter, p. 18. To go into a committee upon the state of the Catho- lic laws is to reconsider, as Lord Nugent justly obser- ves, passages in our domestic history, which bear date about 270 years ago. Now, what human plan, device, or invention, 270 years old, does not require reconsid- eration ? If a man drest as he drest 270 years ago, the pug-dogs in the streets would tear him to pieces. If he lived in the houses of 270 years ago, unrevised and uncorrected, he would die of rheumatism in a week. If he listened to the sermons of 270 years ago, he would perish with sadness and fatigue ; and when a man cannot make a coat or a cheese, for 50 years together, without making them better, can it be said that laws made in those days ol ignorance, and fram- ed in the fury of religious hatred, need no revision, and are capable of no amendment ? We have not the smallest partiality for the Catholic religion ; quite the contrary. That it should exist at all — that all Catholics are not converted to the Protes- tant religion — we consider to be a serious evil ; but there they are, with their spirit as strong, and their opinions as decided, as your own ; the Protestant part of the cabinet have quite given up all idea of putting them to death ; what remains to be done ? We all admit the evil ; the object is to make it as little as possible. One method commonly resorted to, we are sure, does not lessen, but increase the evil ; and that is, to falsify history, and deny plain and obvious facts, 174 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH to the injury of the Catholics. No true friend to the Protestant religion, and to the Church of England, will ever have recourse to such disingenuous arts as these. ' Our histories have not, I believe, stated what is untrue of Queen Mary, nor, perhaps, have they very much exag- gerated what is true of her; bur our arguers, whose only talk is of Smithfield, are generally very uncandid in what they ;onceal. It would appear to be little known, that the statutes which enabled Mary to burn those who had con- formed to the church of her father and brother, were Prot- estant statutes, declaring the common law against heresy, and framed by her father Henry the Eighth, and confirmed and acted upon by order of council of her brother Edward the Sixth, enabling that mild and temperate young sover- eign to burn divers misbelievers, by sentence of commis- sioners (little better, says Neale, than a Protestant Inquisi- tion) appointed to " examine and search after all Anabap- tists, Heritics, or contemners of the Book of Common Pray- er." It would appear to be seldom considered, that her zeal might very possibly have been warmed by the circumstance of both her chaplains having been imprisoned for their re- ligion, and herself arbitrarily detained, and her safety threatened, during the short but persecuting reign of her brother. The sad evidences of the violence of those days are by no means confined to her acts. The fagots of perse- cution were not kindled by Papists only, nor did they cease to blaze when the power of using them as instruments of conversion ceased to be in Popish hands. Cranmer him- self, in his dreadful death, met with but equal measure for the flames to which he had doomed several who denied the spiritual supremacy of Henry the Eighth; to which he had doomed also a Dutch Arian, in Edward the Sixth's reign ; and to which, with great pains and difficulty, he had per suaded that prince to doom another miserable enthusiast, Joan Bocher, for some metaphysical notions of her own on the divine incarnation. " So that on both sides " (says Lord Herbert*of Cherbury) "it grew a bloody time." Calvin burned Servetus at Geneva, for "discoursing concerning the Trinity contrary to the sense of the whole church ; and thereupon set forth a book wherein he giveth an account of his doctrine, and of whatever else had passed in this affair, and teacheth that the sword may be lawfully employed against heretics." Yet Calvin was no Papist. John Knox extolled in his writings, "the godly fact of James Melvil," the savage murder by which Cardinal Beaton was made to expiate his many and cruel persecutions; a murder to which, by the great popular eloquence of Knox, his fellow-labour ers in the vineyard of reformation, Lesly and Melvil, had been excited ; and yet John Knox, and Lesly and Melvil, were no papists. Henry the Eighth, whose one virtue was impartiality in these matters (if an impartial and evenly balanced persecution of all sects be a virtue,) beheaded a chancellor and a bishop, because having admitted his civil supremacy, they doubted his spiritual. Of the latter of them Lord Herbert says, " The pope, who suspected not perchance, that the bishop's end was so near, had, for more testimony of his favour to him as disaffection to our king, sent him a cardinal's hat ; but unseasonably, his head being off." He beheaded the Countess of Salisbury, because at upwards of eighty years old she wrote a letter to Cardinal Pole, her own son ; and he burned Barton, the " Holy Maid of Kent," for a prophecy of his death. He burned four Anabaptists in one day for opposing the doctrine of infant baptism ; and he burned Lambert, and Anne Ascue, and Belerican, and Lassells, and Adams, on another day, for opposing that of transubstantiation ; with many others of lesser note, who refused to subscribe to his Six Bloody Articles, as they were called, or whose opinions fell short of his, or exceeded them, or who abided by opinions after he had abandoned them ; and all this after the Reformation. And yet Henry the Eighth was the sovereign who first de- livered us from the yoke of Rome. < In later times, thousands of Protestant Dissenters of the four great sects were made to languish in loathsome prisons, and hundreds to perish miserably, during the reign of Charles the Second, under a Protestant high church govern- ment, who then first applied, in the prayer for the Parlia- ment, the epithets of " most religious and gracious," to a sovereign whom they knew to be profligate and unprin- cipled beyond example, and had reason to suspect to be a concealed Papist. < Later still, Archbishop Sharpe was sacrificed by the murderous enthusiasm of certain Scotch Covenanters, who yet appear to have sincerely believed themselves inspired by Heaven to this act of cold-blooded barbarous assas- sination. ' On subjects like these, silence on all sides, and a mutual interchange of repentance, forgiveness, and oblivion, is wisdom. But to quote grievances on one side only, is not honesty.' — Lord NugenVs Letter, pp. 24—27. Sir Richard Birnie can only attend to the complaints of individuals ; but no cases of swindling are brought before him so atrocious as the violation of the treaty of Limerick, and the disappointment of those hopes, and the frustration of that arrangement ; which hopes, and which arrangements, were held out as one of the great arguments for the union. The chapter of Eng- lish fraud comes next to the chapter of English cruel- ty, in the history of Ireland — and both are equally dis- graceful. Nothing can be more striking than the conduct of the parent legislature to the legislature of the West Indian Islands. l We cannot leave you to yourselves upon these points' (says the English government) ; ' the wealth of the planter and the commercial pros perity of the island are not the only points to be look- ed to. We must look to the general rights of humani- ty, and see that they are not outraged in the case of the poor slave. It is impossible we can be satisfied, till we know that he is placed in a state of progress and amelioration.' How beautiful is all this ! and how wise, and how humane and affecting are our ef- forts throughout Europe to put an end to the slave trade ? Wherever three or four negotiators are gather- ed together, a British diplomate appears among them, with some articles of kindness and pity for the poor negro. All is mercy and compassion, except when wretched Ireland is concerned. The saint who swoons at the lashes of the Indian slave is the encourager of No-Popery meetings, and the hard, bigoted, domineer- ing tyrant of Ireland. See the folly of delaying to settle a question, which in the end, must be settled, and, ere long, to the ad- vantage of the Catholics. How the price rises by de- lay ! This argument is extremely well put by Lord Nugent. 1 1 should observe that two occasions have already been lost of granting these claims, coupled with what were called securities, such as never can return. In 1S08, the late Duke of Norfolk and Lord Grenville, in the one house, and Mr. Grattan, in the other, were authorized by the Irish Catholic body to propose a negative to be vested in the crown upon the appointment of their bishops. Mr. Perceval, the Chan- cellor, and the spiritual bench, did not see the importance of this opportunity. It was rejected ; the Irish were driven to despair; and in the same tomb with the question of 1808 lies forever buried the veto. The same was the fate with what were called the "wings" attached to Sir Francis Bur- dett's bill of last year. I voted for them, not for the sake certainly of extending the patronage of the crown over a new body of clergy, nor yet for the sake of diminishing the popular character of elections in Ireland, but because Mr. O'Connell, and because some of the Protestant friends of the measure, who knew Ireland the best, recommended them ; and because I believed, from the language of some who supported it only on these conditions, that they offered the fairest chance for the measure being carried. I voted for them as the price of Catholic emancipation, for which I can scarcely contemplate any Irish price that I would not pay. With the same object, I would vote for them again ; but I shall never again have the opportunity. For these ! also, if they were thought of any value as securities, the > events of this year in Ireland have shown you that you i have lost forever. And the necessity of the great measure | becomes every day more urgent and unavoidable.' — Lord ' Nugent' s Letter, pp. 71, 72. Can any man living say that Ireland is not in a much more dangerous state than it was before the Catholic convention began to exist? — that the inflammatory state of that country is not becoming worse and worse ? — that those men whom we call demagogues and in- cendiaries have not produced a very considerable and ' alarming effect upon the Irish population ? Where is i this to end? But the fool lifteth up his voice in the \ coffee-house and sayeth, ' We shall give them a hear- ty thrashing : let them arise — the sooner the better — we will soon put them down again.' The fool sayeth this in the coffee-house, and the greater fool praiseth him. But does Lord Stowell say this ? does Mr. Peel say this ? does the Marquis of Hertford say this ? do sensible, calm, and reflecting men like these, not ad- mit the extreme danger of combating against invasion and disaffection, and this with our forces spread in ac- tive hostility over the whole face of the globe ? Can they feel this vulgar, hectoring certainty of success, and stupidly imagine that a thing cannot be because it has never yet been? because we have hitherto maintained our tyranny in Ireland against all Europe CATHOLIC QUESTION. 175 that we are always to maintain it ? And then, what if the struggle does at last end in our favour ? Is the loss of English lives and of English money not to be taken into account ? Is this the way in which a na- tion overwhelmed with debt, and trembling whether its looms and ploughs will not be overmatched by the looms and ploughs of the rest of Europe — is this the way in which such a country is to husband its re- sources ? Is the best blood of the land to be flung away in a war of hassocks and surplices ? Are cities to be summoned for the Thirty-nine Articles, and men to be led on to the charge by professors of divinity ? The expense of keeping such a country must be added to all other enormous expenses. What is really pos- sessed of a country so subdued ? four or five yards round a sentry-box, and no more. And in twenty years' time it is all to do over again — another war — another rebellion, and another enormous and ruinously expen- sive contest, with the same dreadful uncertainty of the issue I It is forgotten,- too, that a new feature has ari- sen in the history of this country. In all former in- surrections in Ireland no democratic party existed m England. The efforts of government were left free and unimpeded. But suppose a stoppage in our man- ufactures coincident with a rising of the Irish Catho- lics, when every soldier is employed in the sacred du- ty of Papist-hunting. Can any man contemplate such a state of things without horror ? Can any man say that he is taken by surprise for such a combination? Can any man say that any danger to church or state is comparable to this ? But for the prompt interfer- ence of the military in the early part of 1826, three or four hundred thousand manufacturers would have car- ried rum and destruction over the north of England, and over Scotland. These dangers are inseparable from an advanced state of manufactures — but they need not the addition of other and greater perils, which need not exist in any country too wise and too enlight- ened for persecution ? Where is the weak point in these plain arguments ? Is it the remoteness of the chance of foreign war? Alas ! we have been at war 35 minutes out of every hour since the peace of Utrecht. The state of war seems more natural to man than the state of peace ; and if we turn from general probabilities to the state of Europe — Greece to be liberated-— Turkey to be de- stroyed — Portugal and Spain to be made free — the wounded vanity of the French, the increasing arro- gance of the Americans, and our own philopolemical folly, are endless scenes of war. We believe it at. all times a better speculation to make ploughshares into swords than swords into ploughshares, "if war is cer- tain, we believe insurrection to be quite as certain. We cannot believe but that the French or the Ameri- cans would, in case of war, make a serious attempt upon Ireland, and that all Ireland would rush, tail foremost, into insurrection. A new source of disquietude and war has lately risen in Ireland. Our saints are evangelical people, or se- rious people, or by whatever name they are to be des- ignated, have taken the field in Ireland against the Pope, and are converting in the large way. Three or four Irish Catholic prelates take a post-chaise, and curse the converters and the converted. A battle roy- al ensues with shillelas : the policeman comes in, and, reckless of Lambeth or the Vatican, makes no dis- tinction between what is perpendicular, and what is hostile, but knocks down every body, and everything which is upright ; and so the feud ends for the day. We have no doubt but that these efforts will tend to bring things to a crisis much sooner between the par- ties, than the disgraceful conduct of the cabinet alone would do. 'It is a charge not imputed by the laws of England, nor by the oaths which exclude the Catholics : for those oaths impute only spiritual errors. But it is imputed, which is more to the purpose, by those persons who approve of the excluding oaths, and wish them retained. But to the whole of this imputation, even if no other instance could be adduced, as far as a strong and remarkable example can prove the negative of an assump- - tion which there is not a single example to support — the lull and sufficient, and incontestible answer is Canada. Canada, which, until you can destroy the memory of all that now remains to you of your sovereignty on the North American continent, is an an- swer practical, memorable, difficult to be accounted for, but blazing as the sun itself in sight of the whole world, to the whole charge of divided allegiance. At your conquest of Canada, you found it Roman Catholic ? you had to choose for her a con- stitution in church and state. You were wise enough not to thwart public opinion. Your own conduct towards Presbyte- rianism in Scotland was an example for imitation; your own conduct towards Catholicism in Ireland was a beacon for avoid- ance ; and in Canada you established and endowed the religion of the people. Canada was your only Roman Catholic colony. Your other colonies revolted; they called on a Catholic power to support them, and they achieved their independence. Cath- olic Canada, with what Lord Liverpool would call her half-al- legiance, alone stood by you. She fought by your side against the interference of Catholic France. To reward and encou- rage her loyalty, you endowed in Canada bishops to say mass, and to ordain others to say mass, whom, at thai very time, your laws would have hanged for saying mass in England ; and Canada is still yours, in spite of Catholic France, in spite of her spiritual obedience to the pope, in spite of Lord Liver- pool's argument, and in spite of the independence of all the states that surround her. This is the only trial you have made. Where you allow to the Roman Catholics their religion undisturbed, it has proved itself to be compatible with the most faithful allegiance. It is only where you have placed allegiance and religion before them as a dilemma, that they have preferred (as who will say they ought not?) their religion to their allegiance. How then stands the imputation'? Dis- proved by history, disproved in all states where both religions co-exist, and in both hemispheres, and asserted in an exposition by Lord Liverpool, solemnly and repeatedly abjured by all Catholics, of the discipline of their church. — Lord NugenVs Letter, pp. 35, 36. Can any man who has gained permission to take off his strait-waistcoat, and been out of Bedlam three weeks, believe that the Catholic question will be set to rest by the conversion of the Irish Catholics to the Protestant religion ? The best chance of conversion will be gained by taking care that the point of honour is not against conversion. 'We may, I think, collect from what we know of the ordinary feelings of men that, by admitting all to a community of bene- fits, we should remove a material impediment that now presents itself to the advances ofproselytism to our established mode of worship ; particularly assuming, as we do, that it is the purest, and that the disfranchised mode is supported only by supersti- tion and priestcraft. By external pressure and restraint, things are compacted as well in the moral as in the physical world. Where a sect is at spiritual variance with the established church, it only requires an abridgment of civil privileges to render it at once a political faction. Its members become in- stantly pledged, some from enthusiasm, some from resentment, and many from honourable shame, to cleave with desperate fondness to the suffering fortunes of an hereditary religion. Is this human nature, or is it not? Is it a natural or an unnatural feeling for the representative of an ancient Roman Catholic family, even if in his heart he rejected the controverted tenets of his early faith, to scorn an open conformity to ours, so long as such conformity brings with it the irremovable suspicion that faith and conscience may have bowed to the base hope of temporal advantage ? Every man must feel and act for himself: but, in my opinion, a good man might be put to difficulty to determine whether good or harm is not done by the example of one changing his religion to his worldly advantage, than good by his openly professing conformity from what we think error to what we think truth.' — Lord NugenVs Letter, pp. 54, 55. ' We will not be bullied out of the Catholic ques- tion.' This is a very common text, and requires some comment. If you mean that the sense of personal danger shall never prevent you from doing what you think right — this is a worthy and proper feeling, but no such motive is suspected, and no such question is at issue. Nobody doubts but that any English gen- tleman would be ready to join his No-Popery corps, and to do his duty to the community, if the govern- ment required it; but the question is, Is it worth while in the government to require it ? Is it for the general advantage that such a war should be carried on for such an object ? It is a question not of person- al valour, but of political expediency. Decide serious- ly if it is worth the price of civil war to exclude the Catholics, and act accordingly ; taking it for grant- ed that you possess, and that every body supposes you to possess, the vulgar attribute of personal courage ; but do not draw your sword like a fool, from the un- founded •epprehension of being called a coward. We have g;reat hopes of the Duke of Clarence. — 176 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. Whatever else he may be, he is not a bigot — not a per- son who thinks it necessary to show respect to his royal father, by prolonging the miseries and incapaci- ties of six millions of j^eople. If he ascends the throne of these realms, he must stand the fire of a few weeks' clamour and unpopularity. If the measure is Sassed by the end of May, we can promise his royal ighness it will utterly be forgotten before the end of June. Of all human nonsense, it is surely the greatest to talk of respect to the late king — respect to the memory of the Duke of York — by not voting for the Catholic question. Bad enough to burn widows when the husband dies — bad enough to burn horses, dogs, butlers, footmen, and coachmen, on the funeral pile of a Scythian warrior — but to offer up the happiness of seven millions of people to the memory of the dead, is certainly the most insane sepulchral oblation of which history makes mention. The best compliment to these deceased princes, is to remember their real good qualities, and to ;orget (as soon as we can forget it) that these good qualities were tarnished by limited and mistaken views of religious liberty. Persecuting gentlemen forget the expense of perse- cution ; whereas, of all luxuries, it is the most expen- sive. The Ranters do not cost us a farthing, because they are not disqualified by ranting. The Methodists and Unitarians are gratis. The Irish Catholics, sup- posing every alternate year to be war, as it has been for the last' century, will cost us, within these next twenty years, forty millions of money. There are 20,000 soldiers there in time of peace ; in war, includ- ing the militia, their numbers will be doubled — and there must be a very formidable fleet in addition. Now. when the tax paper comes round, and we are to make a return of the greatest number of horses, bug- gies, ponies, dogs, cats, bullfinches, and canary birds, Xlc, and to be taxed accordingly, let us remember how well and wisely our money has been spent, and not repine that we have purchased, by severe taxation, the high and exalted pleasures of intolerance and per- secution. It is mere unsupported and unsupportable nonsense to talk of the exclusive disposition of the Catholics to persecute. The Protestants have murdered, and tor- tured, and laid waste as much as the Catholics. Each party, as it gained the upper hand, tried death as the remedy for heresy — both parties have tried in vain. A distinction is set up between civil rights, and political power, and applied against the Catholics : the real difference between these two words is, that civil comes from a Latin word, and political from a Greek one ; but if there ie any difference in their meaning, the Catholics do not ask for political power, but for eligibility to political power. The Catholics have never prayed, or dreamt of praying, that so many of the judges and king's counsel should necessarily be Catholics ; but that no law should exist which pre- vented them from becoming so, if a Protestant king chose to make them so. Eligibility to political power is a civil privilege, of which we have no more right to deprive any man than of any other civil privilege. The good of the state may require that all civil rights may be taken from Catholics ; but to say that eligi- bility to political power is not a civil right, and that to take it away without grave cause, would not be a gross act of injustice, is mere declamation. Besides, what is called political power, and what are called civil rights, are given or withholden, without the least reference to any principle, but by mere caprice. A right of voting is given — this is political power ; eligi- bility to the office of alderman or bank director is re- fused — this is a civil right : the distinction is per- petually violated, just as it has suited the state of parties for the moment And here a word or two on the manner of handling the question. Because some offices might be filled with Catholics, all would be : this is one topic. A second is, because there might be inconvenience from a Catholic king or chancellor, that, therefore, there would be inconvenience from Catholic judges or Serjeants. In talking of establish- ments, they always take care to blend the Irish and English establishments, and never to say which is meant, though the circumstances of both are as dif- ferent as possible. It is always presumed, that sects holding opinions contrary to the establishment, are hostile to the establishment ; meaning by the word hostile, that they are combined, or ready to combine, for its destruction. It is contended that the Catholics would not be satisfied by these concessions ; meaning, thereby, that many would not be so — but forgetting to add, that many would be quite satisfied — all more satisfied, and less likely to run into rebellion. It is urged that the mass of Catholics are indifferent to the question ; whereas (never mind the cause) there is not a Catholic plough-boy, at this moment, who is not ready to risk his life for it, nor a Protestant stable- boy, who does not give himself airs of superiority over any papistical cleaner of horses, who is scrubbing with him under the same roof. The Irish were quiet under the severe code of Queen Anne — so the half-murdered man left on the ground bleeding by thieves is quiet ; and he only moans, and cries for help as he recovers. There was a method which would have made the Irish still more quiet, and effectually have put an end to all further solicitation respecting the catholic question. It was adopted in the case of the wolves. They are forming societies in Ireland for the encou- ragement of emigration, and striving, and successfully striving, to push their redundant Population into Great Britain. Our business is to pacify Ireland — to give confidence to capitalists — and to keep their people where they are. On the day the Catholic question was passed, all property in Ireland would rise 20 per cent. Protestants admit that there are sectaries sitting in Parliament, who differ from the Church of England as much as the Catholics; but it is' forgotten that, ac- cording to the doctrine of the Church of England, the Unitarians are considered as condemned to eternal punishment in another world — and that many such have seats in Parliament. And can any thing be more preposterous (as far as doctrine has any influence in these matters) than that men, whom we believe to be singled out as objects of God's eternal vengeance, should have a seat in our national councils ; and that Catholics, whom we believe may be saved, should not? The only argument which has any appearance of weight, is the question of divided allegiance ; and ge- nerally speaking, we should say it is the argument which produces the greatest effect in the country at large. England, in this respect, is in the same state, at least, as the whole of Catholic Europe. Is not the allegiance of every French, every Spanish, and every Italian Catholic (who is not a Roman,) divided? His king is in Paris, or Madrid, or Naples, while his high- priest is at Rome. We speak of it as an anomaly in politics ; whereas, it is the state and condition of ah most the whole of Europe. The danger of this-divid- ed allegiance, they admit, is nothing, as long as it is confined to purely spiritual concerns ; but it may ex- tend itself to temporal matters, and so endanger the safety of the state. This danger, however, is greater in a. Catholic than in a Protestant country ; not only on account of the greater majority upon whom it might act ; but because there are objects in a Catholic country much more desirable, and attainable, than in a country like England, where Popery does not exist, or Ireland, where it is humbled and impoverished. Take, for instance, the freedom of the Gallican Church. What a temptation to the Pope to infringe in rich Catholic countries ! How is it possible his ho liness can keep his hands from picking and stealing? It must not be imagined that Catholicism has been any defence against the hostility and aggression of the Pope : he has cursed and excommunicated every Catholic state in Europe, in their turns. Let that eminent Protestant, Lord Bathurst, state any one in- stance where, for the last century, the Pope has inter- fered with the temporal concerns of Great Britain, We can mention, and his lordship will remember, in. numerable instances where he might have done so, if such were the modern habit and policy of the court of Rome. But the fact is, there is no'court of Rome, and no Pope. There is a wax- work Pope, and a wax- CATHOLIC QUESTION. m work court of Rome. But Popes of flesh and blood have long since disappeared ; and in the same way, those great giants of the city exist no more, but their truculent images are at Guildhall. We doubt if there is in the treasury of the Pope change for a guinea — we are sure there is not in his armoury one gun which will go off. We believe, if he attempted to bless any body whom Dr. Doyie cursed, or to curse any body whom Dr. Doyle blessed, that his blessings and curses would be as powerless as his artillery. Dr. Doyle* is the Pope of Ireland ; and the ablest ecclesiastic of that country will always be its pope — and that Lord Bathurst ought to know — most likely does know. But what a waste of life and time to combat such argu- ments ? Can my Lord Bathurst be ignorant ? Can any man, who has the slightest knowledge of Ireland, be ignorantj, that the portmanteau which sets out eve- ry quarter for Rome, and returns from it, is an heap of ecclesiastical matters, which have no more to do with the safety of the country, than they have to do with the safety of the moon — and which but for the respect to individual feelings, might all be published at Charing Cross ? Mrs. Flanagan, intimidated by stomach complaints, wants a dispensation for eating flesh. Cornelius Oh Bowel has intermarried by acci- dent with his grandmother; and finding that she is really his grandmother, his conscience is uneasy. Mr. Mac Tooley, the priest, is discovered to be married ; and to have two sons, Castor and Pollux Mac Tooley. Three or four schools-full of little boys have been cursed for going to hear a Methodist preacher. Bar- gains for shirts and toe-nails of deceased saints — sur- plices and trencher-caps blessed by the Pope. These are rhe fruits of double allegiance — the objects of our incredible folly. There is not a syllable which goes to or comes from the court of Rome, which, by a judi- cious expenditure of sixpence by the year, would not be open to the examination of every member of the cabinet. Those who use such arguments know the answer to them as well as we do. The real evil they dread is the destruction of the church of Ireland, and, through that, of the Church of England. To which we reply, that such danger must proceed from the re- gular proceedings of Parliament, or be effected by in- surrection and rebellion. The Catholics, restored to civil functions, would, we believe, be more likely to cling to the church than to Dissenters. If not, both Catholics and Dissenters must be utterly powerless against the overwhelming English interests and feel- ings in the house. Men are less inclined to run into rebellion, in proportion as they have less to complain of; and, of all other dangers, the greatest to the Irish and English church establishments, and to the Protes- tant faith throughout Europe, is to leave Ireland in its ■present state of discontent. If the intention is to wait to the last, before concess- ion is made, till the French or Americans have landed, and the holy standard has been unfurled, we ought to be sure of the terms which can be obtained at such a crisis. This game was played in America. Commis- sioners were sent in one year to offer and to press what would have been most thankfully received the year before ; but they were always too late The rapid concessions of England were outstripped by the more rapid exactions of the colonies ; and the commission- ers returned with the melancholy history, that they had humbled themselves before the rebels in vain. If you ever mean to concede at all, do it when every con- cession will be received as a favour. To wait till you are forced to treat, is as mean in principle as it is dan- gerous in effect. Then, how many thousand Protestant Dissenters are there who pay a double allegiance to the king, and to the head of their church, who is not the king ? Is not * • Of this I can with great truth assure you ; and my testi mony, if not entitled to respect, should not be utterly disre- garded, that papal influence will never induce the Catholics of tins country either to continue tranquil, or to be disturbed, either to aid or to oppose the government; and that your lordship can contribute much more than the Pope to secure their allegiance, or to render them disaffected,'— Dr. Doyle's Letter to Lord Liverpool, 115. Mr. William Smith, member for Norwich, the head of the Unitarian Church? Is not Mr. Wilberforce the head of the Clapham Church ? Are there not twenty preachers at Leeds, who regulate all the proceedings of the Methodists ? The gentlemen we have mention- ed are eminent, and most excellent men ; but if any thing at all is to be apprehended from this divided al- legiance, we should be infinitely more afraid of some" Jacobinical fanatic at the head of Protestant Votaries — some man of such character as Lord George Gordon —than we should of all the efforts of th; Pope. As so much evil is supposed to proceed from not obeying the king as head of the church, it might be supposed to be a very active office— that the king was perpetually interfering with the affairs of the church — and that orders were in a course of emanation from the throne which regulated the fervour, and arranged the devotion, of all the members of the Church of England. But we really do not know what orders are ever given by the king to the church, except the ap- pointment of a fast-day once in three or four years ; — nor can we conceive (for appointment to bishoprics is out of the question) what duties there would be to perform, if this allegiance were paid, instead of being withholden. Supremacy appears to us to be a mere name, without exercise of power — and allegiance to be a duty, without any performance annexed. If any one will say what ought to be done which is not done, on account of this divided allegiance, we shall better un- derstand the magnitude of the evil. Till then, we shall consider it as a lucky Protestant phrase, good to look at, like the mottos and ornaments on cake, — but not fit to be eaten. Nothing can be more unfair than to expect, in an an- cient church like that of the Catholics, the same uniformity as in churches which have not existed for more than two or three centuries. The coats and waistcoats of the reign of Henry VIII. bear some re- semblance to the same garments of the present day ; but, as you recede, you get to the skins of wild beasts, or the fleeces of sheep, for the garments of savages. — In the same way, it is extremely difficult for a church, which has to do with the counsels of barbarous ages, not to be detected in some discrepancy of opinion ; — while in younger churches, every thing is fair and fresh, and of modern date and figure ; and it is not the custom among theologians to own their church in the wrong. l No religion can stand, if men, without re- gard to their God, and with regard only to controversy, shall take out of the rubbish of antiquity the obsolete and quaint follies of the sectarians, and affront the ma- jesty of the Almighty with the impudent catalogue of their devices ; and it is a strong argument against the prescriptive system, that it helps to continue this shocking contest. Theologian against theologian, — polemic against polemic, until the two madmen defame their common parent, and expose their common reli- gion. 7 — Grattan's Speech onthe Catholic Question, 1805. A good-natured and well-conditioned person has pleasure in keeping and distributing any tiling that is good. If he detects any thing with superior flavour, he presses and invites, and is not easy till others par- ticipate ; and so it is with political and religious freedom. It is a pleasure to possess it, and a plea- sure to communicate it to others. There is something shocking in the greedy, growling, guzzling monopoly of such a blessing. France is no longer a nation of atheists ; and there- fore, a great cause of offence to the Irish Roman Ca- tholic clergy is removed. Navigation by steam ren- ders all shores more accessible. The union among Catholics is consolidated ; all the dangers of Ireland are redoubled : every thing seems tending to an event fatal to England— fatal (whatever Catholics may fool- ishly imagine) to Ireland — and which will subject them both to the dominion of France. Formerly a poor man might be removed from a parish if there was the slightest danger of his be- coming chargeable ; a hole in his coat or breeches excited suspicion. The churchwardens said, ' He has cost us nothing, but he may cost us something ; and we must not live even in the apprehension of evil.' All this is changed ; and the law now says, « Wait till 178 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. you are hurt ; time enough to meet the evil when it comes ; you have no right to do a certain evil to others, to prevent an uncertain evil to yourselves.' The Catholics, however, are told that what they do ask is objected to, from the fear of what they may *sk ; that they must do without that which is rea- sonable, for fear they should ask what is unreasonable. 1 I would give you a penny (says the miser to the beg- gar) , if I was quite sure you would not ask me for half a crown.' 1 Nothing, I am told, is now so common on the continent as to hear our Irish policy discussed. Till of late the extent of the disabilities was but little understood, and less regarded, partly because, having less liberty themselves, foreigners could not appreciate the deprivations, and partly because the pre-eminence of England was not so decided as to draw the eyes of the world on all parts of our system. It was scarcely credited that England, that knight-errant abroad, should play the exclusionist at home ; that everywhere else she should declaim against oppression, but contemplate it without emo- tion at her doors. That her armies should march, and her orators philippize, and her poets sing against continental ty- ranny, and yet that laws should remain extant, and principles be operative within our gates, which ajre a bitter satire on our philanthropy, and a melancholy negation of our professions. Our sentiments have been so lofty, our deportment to foreign- ers so haughty, and we have set up such liberty and such morals, that no one could suppose that we were hypocrites. Still less could it be foreseen that a great moralist, called Joseph Surface, kept a " little milliner" behind the scenes, we too should be found out at length in taking the diversion of private tyranny after the most approved models for that amusement.' — Letter to Lord Milton, pp. 50, 51. We sincerely hope — we firmly believe — it will never happen ; but if it were to happen, why cannot Eng- land be just as happy with Ireland being Catholic, as it is with Scotland being Presbyterian ? Has not the Church of England lived side by side with the Kirk without crossing or jostling, for these last hundred years ? Have the Presbyterian members entered into any conspiracy for mincing bishoprics and deaneries into synods and presbyteries ? And is not the Church of England tenfold more rich and more strong than when the separation took place ? But however this may be, the real danger, even to the Church of Ire land, as we have before often remarked, is the refusal of Catholic emancipation. It would seem, from the frenzy of many worthy Protestants, whenever the name of Catholic is men- tioned, that the greatest possible diversity of religious opinions existed between the Catholic and the Pro- testant — that they were as different as fish and flesh — as alkali and acid — as cow and cart-horse ; whereas it is quite clear, that there are many Protestant sects whose difference from each other is much more mark- ed, both in church discipline and in tenets of faith, than that of Protestants and Catholics. We maintain that Lambeth, in these two points, is quite as near to the Vatican as it is to the Kirk — if not much nearer. Instead of lamenting the power of the priests over the lower orders of the Irish, we ought to congratulate ourselves that any influence can affect and control them. Is the tiger less formidable in the forest than when he has been caught and taught to obey a voice and tremble at a hand? But we over-rate the power of the priest, if we suppose that the upper orders are to encounter all the dangers of treason and rebellion, to confer the revenues of the Protestant church upon the Catholic clergy. If the influence of the Catholic clergy upon men of rank and education be so unbounded, why cannot the French and Italian clergy recover their possessions, or acquire an equivalent for them ? They are starving in the full enjoyment of an influence which places (as we think) all the wealth and power of the country at their feet — an influence which, in our opinion, overpowers avarice, fear, ambition, and is the master of every passion which brings on change and movement in the Protestant world. We conclude with a few words of advice to the dif- ferent opponents of the Catholic question. To the No-Popery Fool. You are made use of by men who laugh af you, and despise you for your folly and ignorance ; and who, the moment it suits their purpose, will consent to emancipation of the Catholics, and leave you to roar and bellow No Popery ! to vacancy and the moon. To the No-Popery Rogue. A shameful and scandalous game, to sport with the serious interests of the country, in order to gain some increase of public power ! To the Honest No-Popery People. We respect you very sincerely — but are astonished at your existence. To the Base. Sweet children of turpitude, beware ! the old anti- popery people are fast perishing away. Take heed that you are not surprised by an emancipatng king, or an emancipating administration. Leave a locus pceni- tentice ! — prepare a place for retreat — get ready your equivocations and denials. The dreadful day may yet come, when liberality may lead to place and power. We understand these matters here. It is the safest to be moderately base — to be flexible in shame, and to be always ready for what is generous, good, and just, when any thing is to be gained by virtue. To the Catholics. i Wait. Do not add to your miseries by a mad and desperate rebellion. Persevere in civil exertions, and concede all you can concede. All great alterations in human affairs are produced by compromise (Edinburgh Review, Par. M. Neckar NECKAR'S LAST VIEWS. 1803.) Demieres Vues de Politiques, et de Finance. An. 10, 1802. If power could be measured by territory, or count- ed by population, the inveteracy, and the disproportion which exists between France and England, must occa- sion to every friend of the latter country the most se- rious and well-founded apprehensions. Fortunately however for us, the question of power is not only what is the amount of population ? but, how is that popula- tion governed? How far is a confidence in the stability of political institutions established by an experience of their wisdom ? Are the various interests of society adjusted and protected by a system of laws thoroughly tried, gradually ameliorated, and purely administered ? What is the degree of general prosperity evinced by that most perfect of all criteria, general credit? These are the considerations to which an enlightened politician, who speculates on the future destiny of na- tions, will direct his attention, more than to the august and imposing exterior of territorial dominion, or to those brilliant moments, when a nation, under the in- fluence of great passions, rises above its neighbours, and above itself, in military renown. If it be visionary to suppose the grandeur and safety of the two nations as compatible and co-existent, we have the important (though the cruel) consolation of reflecting, that the French have yet to put together the very elements of a civil and political constitution ; that they have to experience all the danger and ail the inconvenience which results from the rashness and the imperfect views of legislators, who have every thing to conjecture, and every thing to create ; that they must submit to the contusion of repeated change, or the greater evil of obstinate perseverance in error; that they must live for a century in that state of perilous uncertainty in which every revolu. tionized nation remains, before rational liberty be- comes feeling and habit, as well as law, and is written in the hearts of men as plainly as in the letter of the statute ; and that the opportunity of beginning this immense edifice of human happiness is so far from being presented to them at present, that it is ex- tremely problematical whether or not they are to be bandied from one vulgar usurper to another, and re- main for a century subjugated to the rigour of a mUi NECKAR'S LAST VIEWS. 179 tary government, at once the scorn and the scourge of Europe.* To the more pleasing supposition, that the First Consul will make use of his power to give his country a free constitution, we are indebted for the work of M. Neckar now before us, a work of which good tem- per is the characteristic excellence : it every where preserves that cool impartiality which it is so diffi- cult to retain in the discussion of subjects connected with recent and important events ; modestly proposes the results of reflection ; and, neither deceived nor wearied by theories, examines the best of all that mankind have said or done for the attainment of rational liberty. The principal object of M. Neckar's book is to ex- amine this question, l An opportunity of election sup- posed, and her present circumstances considered — what is the best form of government which France is capable of receiving V and he answers his own query, by giving the preference to a Republic One and Indi- visible. The work is divided into four parts. 1. An examination of the present constitution of France. 2. On the best form of a Republic One and Indi- visible. 3. On the best form of a Monarchical Government. 4. Thoughts upon Finance. From the misfortune which has hitherto attended all discussions of present constitutions in France, M. Neckar hfis not escaped. The subject has proved too rapid for the author ; and its existence has ceased be- fore its properties were examined. This part of the work, therefore, we shall entirely pass over ; because, to discuss a mere name, is an idle waste of time ; and no man pretends that the present constitution of France can, with propriety, be considered as any thing more. We shall proceed to a description of that form of a republican government which appears to M. Neckar best calculated to promote the happi- ness of that country. Every department is to be divided into five parts, each of which is to send one member. Upon the eve of an election, all persons paying 200 livres of govern- ment taxes in direct contribution, are to assemble to- gether, and choose 100 members from their own number, who form what M. Neckar calls a chamber of indication. This chamber of indication is to pre- sent five candidates, of whom the people are to elect one ; and the right of voting in this latter election is given to every body engaged in a wholesale or retail business ; to all superintendents of manufactures and trades ; to all commissioned and non-commissioned officers and soldiers who have received their dis- charge ; and to all citizens paying, in direct contribu- tion, to the amount of twelve livres. Votes are not to be given in one spot, but before the chief magistrate of each commune where the voter resides, and there inserted in registers; from a comparison of which, the successful candidate is to be determined. The municipal officers are to enjoy the right of recommend- ing one of these candidates to the people, who are free to adopt their recommendation or not, as they may think proper. The right of voting is confined to qual- ified single men of twenty-five years of age : married men of the same description may vote at any age. To this plan of election we cannot help thinking there are many great and insuperable objections. The first and infallible consequence of it would be, a devo- lution of the whole elective franchise upon the cham- ber of indication, and a complete exclusion of the peo- ple from any share in the privilege : for the chamber bound to return five candidates, would take care to return four out of the five so thoroughly objectionable, that the people would be compelled to choose the fifth. Such has been the constant effect of all elections so constituted in Great Britain, where the power of con- ferring the office has always been found to be vested in those who named the candidates, not in those who se- lected an individual from the candidates named. * All this is, unfortunately, as true now as it was when written thirty years ago. But if such were not the consequences of a double election; and if it were so well constituted, as to re- tain that character which the legislature meant to impress upon it. there are other reasons which would induce us to pronounce it a very pernicious institution. The only foundation of political liberty is the spirit of the people ; and the only circumstance which makes a lively impression upon their senses, and powerfully reminds them of their importance, their power, and their rights, is the periodical choice of their represen- tatives. How easily that spirit may be totally extin- guished, and of the degree of abject fear and slavery to which the human race may be reduced for ages, every man of reflection is sufficiently aware : and he knows that the preservation of that feeling is, of all other objects of political science, the most delicate and the most difficult. It appears to us, that a people who did not choose their representatives, but only those who chose their representatives, would very soon become indifferent to their elections altogether. To deprive them of their power of nominating their own candidate, would be still worse. The eagerness of the people to vote, is kept alive by their occasional expulsion of a candidate who has rendered himself objectionable, or the adoption of one who knows how to render himself agreeable to them. They are proud of being solicited personally by a man of family or wealth. The uproar even, and the confusion and the cla- mour of a popular election in England, have their use ; they give a stamp to the names, Liberty, Constitution, and People ; they infuse sentiments which nothing but violent passions and gross objects of sense could in- fuse ; and which would never exist, perhaps, if the sober constituents were to sneak, one by one, into a notary's office to deliver their votes for a representa- tive, or were to form the first link in that long chain of causes and effects, which, in this compound kind of elections, ends with choosing a member of parliament. « Above all things (says M. Neckar) languor is the most deadly to a republican government : for when such a politi- cal association is animated neither by a kind of instinctive affection for its beauty, nor by the continual homage of re- flection to the happy union of order and liberty, the public spirit is half lost, and with it the republic. The rapid bril- liancy of despotism is preferred to a mere complicated ma- chine, from which every symptom of life and organization is fled.' Sickness, absence, and nonage, would (even under the supposition of universal suffrage) reduce the vo- ters of any country to one fourth of its population. A qualification much lower than that of the payment of twelve livres in direct contribution, would reduce that fourth one half, and leave the voters in France three millions and a half, which, divided by 600, gives be- tween five and six thousand constituents for each re- presentative ; a number, not amounting to a third part of the voters for many counties in England, and which certainly is not so unwieldy as to make it necessary to have recourse to the complex mechanism of double elections. Besides, too, if it could be believed that the peril were considerable, of gathering men together in such masses, we have no hesitation in saying, that it would be infinitely preferable to thin their numbers, by increasing the value of the qualification, than to obviate the apprehended bad effects, by complicating the system of election. M. Neckar (much as he has seen and observed; is clearly deficient in that kind of experience which is gained by living under free governments ; he mistakes the riots of a free, for the insurrections of an enslaved people ; and appears to be impressed with the most tremendous notions of an English election. The differ- ence is, that the tranquillity of an arbitrary govern- ment is rarely disturbed, but from the most serious provocations, not to be expiated by any ordinary vengeance. The excesses of a free people are less im- portant, because their resentments are less serious ; — and they can commit a great deal of apparent disorder with very little real mischief. An English mob, which to a foreigner, might convey the belief of an impend- ing massacre, is often contented by the demolition of a few windows. The idea of diminishing the number of sonstituents, 180 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. rather by extending the period of nonage to twenty- five years, than by increasing the value of the qualifi- cation, appears to us to be new and ingenious. No person considers himself as so completely deprived of a share in the government, who is to enjoy it when he becomes older, as he would do, were that privilege deferred till he became richer ; — time comes to all, — wealth to few. This assembly of representatives, as M. Neckar has constituted it, appears to us to be in extreme, danger of turning out' to be a mere collection of country gen- demen. Every thing is determined by territorial ex- tent and population ; and as the voters in town must, in any single division, be almost always inferior to the country voters, the candidates will be returned in virtue of large landed property ; and that infinite advantage which is derived to a popular assembly, from the variety of characters of which it is composed, would be entirely lost under the system of M. Neckar. The sea-ports, the universities, the great commercial towns, should all have their separate organs in the parliament of a great country. There should be some means of bringing in active, able, young men, who would submit lo the labour of business, from the stim- ulus of honour and wealth. Others should be there, expressly to speak the sentiments, and defend the in- terests of the executive. Every popular assembly must be grossly imperfect, that is not composed of such heterogeneous materials as these. Our own par- liament may perhaps contain within itself too many of that species of representatives, who could never have arrived at the dignity under a pure and perfect system of election ; but, for all the practical purposes of gov- ernment, amidst a great majority fairly elected by the people, we should always wish to see a certain uumber of the legislative body representing interests very distinct from those of the people. The legislative part of his constitution M. Neckar manages in the following manner. There are two councils, the great and the little. The great council is composed of five members from each department, — elected in the manner we have just described, and amounting to the number of six hundred. The assem- bly is re-elected every five years. No qualification* of property is necessary to its members, who receive each a salary of 12,000 livres. No one is eligible to the assembly before the age of twenty-five years. — The little national council consists of one hundred members, or from that number to one hundred and twenty ; one for each department. It is re-elected every ten years ; its members must be thirty years of age ; and they receive the same salary as the members of the great council. For the election of the little council, each of the five chambers of indication, in every departmant, gives in the name of one candidate ; and, from the five so named, the same voters who choose the great council select one. The municipal officers enjoy, in this election, the «-ame right of recommending one of the candidates to the people ; a privilege which they would certainly exercise indirectly, without a law, wherever they could exercise it with any effect, and the influence of which the sanction of the law would at all times rather diminish than increase. The grand national council commences all delibera- tions which concern public order, and the interest of the state, with the exception of those only which be- long to finance. Nevertheless, the executive and the little council have it in their power to propose any law for the consideration of the grand council. When a law has passed the two councils, and received the sanction of the executive senate, it becomes binding upon the people. If the executive senate disapprove of any law presented to them for their adoption, they are to send it back to the two councils for reconsidera- tion ; but if it pass these two bodies again, with the approbation of two-thirds of the members of each as- sembly, the executive has no longer the power of withholding its assent. All measures of finance are to initiate with government. * Nothing can be more absurd than our qualifications for parliament : it is nothing but a foolish and expensive lie on parchment. We believe M. Neckar to be right iu his idea of not exacting any qualification of property in his legisla- tive assemblies. When men are left to choose their own governors, they are guided in their choice by some one of those motives which has always commanded their homage and admiration : — if they do not choose wealth, they choose birth or talents, or military fame and of all these species of pre-eminence, a large pop- ular assembly should be constituted. In England, the laws, requiring that members of parliament should be possessed of certain property, are (except in the in- stance of members for counties) practically repealed. In the salaries of the members of the two councils, with the exception of the expense, there is, perhaps, no great balance of good or harm. To some men it would be an inducement to become senators ; to oth- ers, induced by more honorable motives, it^, would af- ford the means of supporting that situation without disgrace. Twenty- five years of age is certainly too late a period for the members of the great council. Of what astonishing displays of eloquence and talent should we have been deprived in this country under the adoption of a similar rule ! The institution of two assemblies constitutes a check upon the passion and precipitation by which the reso- lutions of any single popular assembly may occasion- ally be governed. The chances, that one will correct the other, do not depend solely upon their dividuality, but upon the different ingredients of which they are composed, and that difference of system and spirit, which results from a difference of conformation. Per- haps M. Neckar has not sufficiently attended to this consideration. The difference between his two assem- blies is not very material; and the same popular fury which marked the proceedings of the one, would not be very sure of meeting with an adequate corrective in the dignified coolness and wholesome gravity of the other. All power which is tacitly allowed to devolve upon the executive part of a government, from the expe- rience that it is most conveniently placed there, is both safer, and less likely to be complained of, than that which is conferred upon it by law. If M. Neckar had placed some agents of the executive in the great council, all measures of finance would, in fact, have originated in them, without any exclusive right to such initiation ; but the right of initiation, from M. Neck- ar's contrivance, is likely to excite that discontent in the people, which alone can render it dangerous and objectionable. In this plan of a republic, every thing seems to de- pend upon the purity and the moderation of its govern- ors. The executive has no connection with the great council ; the members of the great council have no motive of hope, or interest, to consult the wishes of the executive. The assembly, which is to give exam- ple to the nation, and enjoy its confidence, is compos- ed of six hundred men, whose passions have no other control than that pure love of the public, which it is hoped they may possess, and that cool investigation of interests, which it is hoped they may pursue. Of the effects of such a constitution, every thing must be conjectured ; for experience enables us to make no assertion respecting it. There is only one govern- ment in the modern world, which, from the effects it has produced, and the time it has endured, can with justice be called good and free. Its constitution, in books, contains the description of a legislative assem- bly, similar to that of M. Neckar's. Happily, perhaps, for the people, the share they have really enjoyed in its election, is much less ample than that allotted to them in this republic of the closet. How long a really pop- ular assembly would tolerate any rival and co-ex- isting power in the state — for what period the feeble executive, and the untitled, unblazoned peers of a re- public, could stand against it— whether any institu- tions, compatible with the essence and meaning of a republic, could prevent it from absorbing all the dig- nity, the popularity, and the power of the state, — are questions that we leave for the resolution of wiser heads ; with the sincerest joy, that we have only a theoretical interest in stating them.* The executive senate is to consist of seven ; and the * That interest is at present not quite so theoretical as it NECKAR'S LAST VIEWS. 181 right of presenting the candidates, and selecting from the candidates alternately from one assembly to the other, i. e. on a vacancy, the great council present three candidates to the little council, who select one from that number ; and on the next vacancy, by the inversion of this process, the little council present and the great council select ; and so alternately. The members of the executive must be thirty-five years of age. Their measures are determined by a majority. The president, called the Consul, has a casting vote : his salary is fixed at 300,000 livres ; that of all the other senators at 60,000 livres. The office of con- sul is annual. Every senator enjoys it in his turn. Every year one senator goes out, unless re-elected ; which he may be once, and even twice, if he unites three fourths of the votes of each council in his favour. The executive shall name to all civil* and military of- fices, except to mayors and municipalities. Political negociations, and connections with foreign countries, fall under the direction of the executive. Declarations of war or peace, when presented by the executive to the legislative body, are to be adopted, the first by a majority of three-fifths, the last by a simple majority. The parade, honours, and ceremonies of the executive, devolve upon the consul alone. The members of the senate, upon going out of office, become members of the little council to the number of seven. Upon the vacation of an eighth senator, the oldest ex-senator in the little council resigns his seat to make room for him. All responsibility rests upon the consul alone, who has a right to stop the proceedings of a majority of the executive senate, by declaring them unconstitu- tional ; and if the majority persevere, in spite of this declaration, the dispute is referred to and decided by a secret committee of the little council. M. Neckar takes along with him the same mistake through the whole of his constitution, by conferring the choice of candidates on one body, and the election of the member on another : so that though the alterna- tion would take place between the two councils, it would turn out to be in an order directly opposite to that which was intended. We perfectly acquiesce in the reasons M. Neckar has alleged for the preference given to an executive constituted of many individuals, rather than of one. The prize of supreme power is too tempting to admit of fair play in the game of ambition ; and it is wise to lessen its value by dividing it : at least it is wise to do so under a form of government that cannot admit the better expedient of rendering the executive hered- itary ; an expedient (gross and absurd as it seems to be) the best calculated, perhaps, to obviate the effects of ambition upon the stability of governments, by narrowing the field on which it acts, and the object for which it contends. The Americans have determined otherwise, and adopted an elective presidency : but there are innumerable circumstances, as M. Neckar very justly observes, which render the example of America inapplicable to other governments. America is a federative republic, and the extensive jurisdiction of the individual States exonerates the president from so great a portion of the cares of domestic govern- ment, that he may almost be considered as a mere minister of foreign affairs. America presents such an immediate, and such a seducing species of provision to all its inhabitants, that it has no idle discontented populace ; its population amounts to six millions, and It is not condensed in such masses as the population of Europe. After all, an experiment of twenty years is never to be cited in politics ; nothing can be built upon such a slender inference. Even if America were to remain stationary, she might find that she had pre- sented too fascinating and irresistible an object to hu- man ambition : of course that peril is increased by eve- ry augmentation of a people, who are hastening on, with rapid and. irresistible pace, to the highest eminences of human grandeur. Some contest for power there must be in every free state : but the contest for vica- rial and deputed power, as it implies the presence of a moderator and master, is more prudent than the struggle for that which is original and supreme. The difficulty of reconciling the responsibility of the executive with its dignity, M. Neckar foresees ; and states, but does not remedy. An irresponsible execu- tive, the jealousy of a republic would never tolerate ; and its amenability to punishment, by degrading it in the eyes of the people, diminishes its power. All the leading features of civil liberty are copied from the constitution of this country, with hardly any variation. Having thus finished his project of a republic, Mr. Neckar proposes the government of this country as the best model of a temperate and hereditary monar- chy ; pointing out such alterations in it as the genius of the French people, the particular circumstances in which they are placed, or the abuses which have crept into our policy, may require. From one or the other of these motives he re-establishes the salique law:* forms his elections after the same manner as that pre. viously described in his scheme of a republic ; and excludes the clergy from the house of peers. This latter assembly M. Neckar composes of 250 heredita- ry peers chosen from the best families in France, and of 50 assistant peers enjoying that dignity for life only, and nominated by the crown. The number of heredi- tary peers is limited as above ; the peerage goes only in the male line ; and upon each peer is perpetually entailed landed property to the amount of 30,000 livres. This partial creation of peers for life only, ap- pears to remedy a very material defect in the English constitution. An hereditary legislative aristocracy not only adds to the dignity of the throne, and estab- lishes that gradation of ranks which is, perhaps, abso- lutely necessary to its security, but it transacts a con- siderable share of the business of the nation, as well in the framing of laws as in the discharge of its juridi- cal functions. But men of rank and wealth, though they are interested by a splendid debate, will not sub- mit to the drudgery of business, much less can they be supposed conversant in all the niceties of law ques- tions. It is therefore necessary to add to their num- ber a certain portion of novi homines, men of establish- ed character for talents, and upon whom the previous tenour of their lives has necessarily impressed the habits of business. The evil of this is, that the title descends to their posterity, without the talents and the utility that procured it ; and the dignity of the peerage is impaired by the increase of its numbers : not only so, but as the reward of military, as well as the earnest of civil services, and as the annuity com- monly granted with it is only for one or two lives, we are in some danger of seeing a race of nobles wholly dependent upon the crown for their support, and sac- rificing their political freedom to their necessities. These" evils are effectually, as it should seem, obviat- ed by the creation of a certain] number of peers for life only ; and the increase of power which it seems to give to the Crown, is very fairly counteracted by the exclusion of the episcopacy, and the limitation of the hereditary peerage. As the weight of business in the upper house would principally devolve upon the crea- ted peers, and as they would hardly arrive at that dig- nity without having previously acquired great civil or military reputation, the consideration they would enjoy would be little inferior to that of the other part of the aristocracy. When the noblesse of nature are fairly opposed to the noblesse created by political institu- tions, there is little fear that the former should suffer by the comparison. If the clergy are suffered to sit in the lower house, the exclusion of the episcopacy from the upper house is of less importance : but, in some part of the legisla- tive bodies, the interests of the church ought unques- tionably to be represented. This consideration M. Neckar wholly passes over.J * A most sensible and valuable law, banishing gallantry and chivalry from cabinets, and preventing the amiable an- tics of grave statesmen. t The most useless and offensive tumour in the body po- litic, is the titled son of a great man whose merit has placed him in the peerage. The name, face, and perhaps the pen- sion remain. The daemon is gone ; or there is a slight fla- vour from the cask, but it is empty. t The parochial clergy are as much unrepresented in the English Parliament as they are in the Parliament of Brobdig- nag. The Bishops make just what laws they please, and the 182 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. Though this gentleman considers an hereditary mo- narchy as preferable in the abstract, he deems it im- possible that such a government could be established in France, under her present circumstances, from the impracticability of establishing with it an hereditary aristocracy ; because the property, and the force of opinion, which constituted their real power, are no more, and cannot be restored. Though we entirely agree with M. Neckar, that an hereditary aristocracy is a necessary part of a temperate monarchy, and that the latter must exist upon the base of the former, or not at all — we are by no means converts to the very decided opinion he has expressed of the impossibility of restoring them both to France. We are surprised that M. Neckar should attempt to build any strong argument upon the durability of opinions in nations that are about to undergo, or that have recently undergone, great political changes. What opinion was there in favour of a republic in 17S0 ? Or against it in 1794 ? Or, what opinion is there now in favour of it in 1802 ? Is not the tide of opinions, at this moment, in France, setting back with a strength equal to its flow ? and is there not reason to presume, that, for some time to come, their ancient institutions may be adored with as much fury as they were destroyed? If opinion can revive in favour of kings (and M. Neckar allows it may,) why not in fa- vour of nobles? It is true their property is in the hands of other persons ; and the whole of that species of proprietors will exert themselves to the utmost to prevent a restoration so pernicious to their interests. The obstacle certainly is of a very formidable nature. But why this weight of property, so weak a weapon of defence to its ancient, should be deemed so irresist- ible in the hands of its present possessors, we are at a loss to conceive ; unless, indeed, it be supposed, that antiquity of possession diminishes the sense of right and the vigour of retention ; and that men will strug- gle harder to keep what they have acquired only yes- terday, than that which they have possessed, by them- selves or their ancestors, for six centuries. In France the inferiority of the price of revolutiona- ry lands to others, is immense. Of the former species, church land is considerably dearer than the forfeited estates of emigrants. Whence the difference of price, but from the estimated difference of security? Can any fact display more strongly the state of public opinion with regard to the probability of a future restoration of these estates, either partial or total ? and can any circumstance facilitate the execution of such a project more than the general belief that it will be executed ? M. Neckar allows, that the impediments to the forma- tion of a republic are very serious ; but thinks they would all yield to the talents and activity of Buona- parte, if he were to dedicate himself to the superin- tendence of such a government during the period of its infancy : of course, therefore, he is to suppose the same power dedicated to the formation of an heredi- tary monarchy : or his parallel of difficulties is unjust, and his preference irrational. Buonaparte could repre- sent the person of a monarch, during his life, as well as he could represent the executive of a republic ; and if he could overcome the turbulence of electors, to whom freedom was new. he could appease the jealousy that his generals would entertain of the returning no- bles. Indeed, without such powerful intervention, this latter objection does not appear to us to be by any means insuperable. If the history of our own resto- ration were to be acted over again in France, and roy- alty and aristocracy brought back by the military suc- cessor of Buonaparte, it certainly could not be done without a very liberal distribution of favours among the great leaders of the army. Jealousy of the executive is one feature of a repub- lic ; in consequence, that government is clogged with a multiplicity of safeguards and restrictions, which render it unfit for investigating complicated details, and managing extensive relations with vigour, consis- tency, and despatch. A republic, therefore, is better fitted for a little state than a large one. bearing they may have on the happiness of the clergy at large, never for one moment comes into the serious con- sideration of Parliament. A love of equality is another very strong principle in a republic ; therefore it does not tolerate hereditary honour or wealth ; and all the effect produced upon the minds of the people by this factitious power is lost, and the government weakened : but, in proportion as the government is less able to command, the people should be more willing to obey ; therefore a republic is better suited to a moral than an immoral people. A people who have recently experienced great evils from the privileged orders and from monarchs, love republican forms so much, that the warmth of their inclination supplies, in some degree, the defect of their institutions. Immediately, therefore, upon the destruc- tion of despotism, a republic may be preferable to a lim- ited monarchy. And yet, though narrowness of territory, purity of morals, and recent escape from despotism, appear to be the circumstances which most strongly recommend a republic, M. Neckar proposes it to the most numer- ous and the most profligate people in Europe, who are disgusted with the very name of liberty, from the in- credible evils they have suffered in pursuit of it. Whatever be the species of free government adopt- ed by France, she can adopt none without the greatest peril. The miserable dilemma in which men living under bad governments are placed, is, that, without a radical revolution, they may never be able to gain lib- erty at all ; and, with it, the attainment of liberty ap- pears to be attended with almost insuperable difficul- ties. To call upon a nation, on a sudden, totally des- titute of such knowledge and experience, to perform all the manifold functions of a free constitution, is to entrust valuable, delicate, and abstruse mechanism, to the rudest skill and the grossest ignorance. Public acts may confer liberty ; but experience only can teach a people to use it ; and, till they have gained that experience, they are liable to tumult, to jealousy, to collision of powers, and to every evil to which men are exposed, who are desirous of preserving a great good, without knowing how to set about it. In an old established system of liberty, like our own, the en- croachments which one department of the state makes on any other, are slow, and hardly intentional ; the political feelings and the constitutional knowledge which every Englishman possesses, create a public voice, which tends to secure the tranquillity of the whole. Amid the crude sentiments and new-born pre- cedents of sudden liberty, the crown might destroy the Commons, or the Commons the crown, almost be- fore the people had formed any opinion of the nature of their contention. A nation grown free in a single day, is a child born with the limbs and the vigour of a man, who would take a drawn sword for his rattle, and set the house in a blaze, that he might chuckle over the splendour. Why can factious eloquence produce such limited effects in this country? Partly because we are accus- tomed to it, and know how to appreciate it. We are acquainted with popular assemblies ; and the language of our Parliament produces the effect it ought upon public opinion, because long experience enables us to conjecture the real motives by which men are actuat- ed ; to separate the vehemence of party spirit from the language of principle and truth ; and to discover whom we can trust, and whom we cannot. The want of all this, and of much more than this, must retard, for a very long period, the practical enjoyment of li berty in France, and present very serious obstacles to her prosperity ; obstacles little dreamed of by men who seem to measure the happiness and future gran deur of France by degrees of longitude and latitude and who believe she might acquire liberty with as much facility as she could acquire Switzerland or Na- ples. M. Neckar's observations on the finances of France, and on finance in general, are useful, entertaining, and not above the capacity of every reader. France, he says, at the beginning of 1781, had 438 millions of re- venue ; and, at present 540 millions. The state paid, in 1781, about 215 millions in pensions, the interest of perpetual debts, and debts for life. It pays, at pre- sent, 80 millions in interests and pensions ; and owes about 12 millions for anticipations on the public reve- TABLEAU DES ETATS DANOIS. 183 nue. A considerable share of the increase of the reve- nue is raised upon the conquered countries ; and the people are liberated from tithes, corvees, and the tax on salt. This, certainly, is a magnificent picture of finance. The best informed people at Pans, who would be very glad to consider it as a copy from life, dare not contend that it is so. At least, we sincerely ask pardon of M. Neckar, if our information as to this point be not correct : but we believe he is generally considered to have been misled by the public financial reports. In addition to the obvious causes which keep the interest of money so high in France, M. Neckar states one which we shall present to our readers : — ' There is one means for the establishment of credit,' he says, ' equally important with the others which I have stated — a sentiment of respect for morals, sufficiently diffused to overawe the government, and intimidate it from treating with bad faith any solemn engagements contracted in the name of the state. It is this respect for morals which seems at present to have disappeared ; a respect which the Revolution has destroyed, and which is unquestionably one of the firmest supports of national faith.? The terrorists of this country are so extremely alarmed at the power of Buonaparte, that they ascribe to him resources which M. Neckar very justly ob- serves to be incompatible — despotism and credit. Now, clearly, if he is so omnipotent in France as he is represented to be, there is an end of all credit ; for no- body will trust him whom nobody can compel to pay ; and if he establishes a credit, he loses all that tempo- rary vigour which is derived from a revolutionary gov- ernment. Either the despotism or credit of France directed against this country would be highly formid- able ; but, both together, can never be directed at the same time. In this part of his work, M. Neckar very justly points out one of the most capital defects of Mr. Pitt's ad- ministration ; who always supposed that the power of France was to cease with her credit, and measured the period of her existence by the depreciation of her assignats. Whereas, France was never more power- ful than when she was totally unable to borrow a sin- gle shilling in the whole circumference of Europe, and when her assignats were not worth the paper on which they were stamped. Such are the principal contents of M. Neckar's very respectable work. Whether, in the course of that work, his political notions appear to be derived from a successful study of the passions of mankind, and whether his plan tor the establishment of a republican government in France, for the ninth or tenth time, evinces a more sanguine, or a more sagacious mind, than the rest of the world, we would rather our rea- ders should decide for themselves, than expose our- selves to any imputation of arrogance, by deciding for them. But when we consider the pacific and impartial disposition which characterizes the Last Views on Politics and Finance, the serene benevolence which it always displays, and the pure morals which it always inculcates, we cannot help entertaining a high respect for its venerable author, and feeling a fervent wish, that the last views of every public man may proceed from a heart as upright, and be directed to objects as good. CATTEAU, TABLEAU DES ETATS DANOIS. (Edinburgh Review, 1803.) Tableaux des Etats Danoig. Par Jean Pierre Catteau. 3 tomes. 1802. a Paris. The object of this book is to exhibit a picture of the kingdom of Denmark, under all its social rela- tions, of politics, statistics, science, morals, manners, and every thing which can influence its character and importance, as a free and independent collection of human beings. This book is, upon the whole, executed with great diligence and good sense. Some subjects of import- ance are passed over, indeed, with too much haste ; but if the publication had exceeded its present magni- tude, it would soon have degenerated into a mere book of reference, impossible to be read, and fit only, like a dictionary, for the purposes of occasional appeal : It would not have been a picture presenting us with an interesting epitome of the whole ; but a typogra- phical plan, detailing with minute and fatiguing pre- cision, every trifling circumstance, and every subordi- nate feature. We should be far from objecting to a much more extended and elaborate performance than the present ; because those who read, and those who write, are now so numerous, that there is room enough for varieties and modifications of the same subject : but information of this nature, conveyed in a form and in a size adapted to continuous reading, gains in surface what it loses in depth, — and gives general notions to many, though it cannot afford all the know ledge which a few have it in their power to acquire, from the habits of more patient labour, and more pro found research. This work, though written at a period when enthu- siasm or disgust had thrown men's minds off their balance, is remarkable, upon the whole, for sobriety and moderation. The observations, though seldom either strictly ingenious or profound, are just, tem- perate, and always benevolent. We are so far from perceiving any thing like extravagance in Mr. Catteau, that we are inclined to think he is occasionally too cautious for the interests of truth ; that he manages the court of Denmark with too much delicacy ; and exposes, by distant and scarcely perceptible touches, that which it was his duty to have brought out boldly and strongly. The most disagreeable circumstance in the style of the book is, the author's compliance with that irresistible avidity of his country to declaim upon common-place subjects. He goes on, mingling buco- lic details and sentimental effusions, melting and mea- suring, crying and calculating, in a manner which is very bad, if it is poetry, and worse if it is prose. In speaking of the mode of cultivating potatoes, he can- not avoid calling the potato a modest vegetable : and when he comes to the exportation of horses from the duchy of Holstein, we learn that l these animals are dragged from the bosom of their peaceable and modest country, to hear, in foreign regions, the sound of the warlike trumpet ; to carry the combatant amid the hostile ranks ; to increase the eclat of some pompous procession ; or drag, in gilded car, some favourite of fortune.' We are sorry to be compelled to notice these un- timely effusions, especially as they may lead to a sus- picion of the fidelity of the work; of which fidelity, from actual examination of many of the authorities referred to, we have not the most remote doubt. Mr. Catteau is to be depended upon as securely as any writer, going over such various and extensive ground, can ever be depended upon. He is occasionally guilty of some trifling inaccuracies ; but what he advances is commonly derived from the most indisputable autho- rities ; and he has condensed together a mass of in- formation, which will render his book the most accessi- ble and valuable road of knowledge, to those who are desirous of making any researches respecting the king- dom of Denmark. Denmark, since the days of piracy, has hardly been heard out of the Baltic. Margaret, by the union of Calmar, laid the foundation of a monarchy, which (could it have been preserved by hands as strong as those which created it) would have exercised a power- ful influence upon the destinies of Europe, and have strangled, perhaps, in the cradle, the infant force of Russia. Denmark, reduced to her ancient bounds by the patriotism and talents of Gustavas Vasa, has never since been able to emerge into notice by her own na- tural resources, or the genius of her ministers and her monarchs. During that period, Sweden has more than once threatened to give laws to Europe ; and, headed by Charles and Gustavus, has broke out into chivalrous enterprises, with an heroic valour, which merited wiser objects, and greater ultimate success. The spi- rit of the Danish nation has, for the last two or three centuries, been as little carried to literature or to sci- ence, as to war. They have written as little as they have done. With the exception of Tycho Brahe and a volume of sheJ there is hardly a Danish book, or 184 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. a Danish writer, known five miles from the Great Belt. It is not sufficient to say, that there are many authors read and admired in Denmark ; there are none that have passed the Sound, none that have had energy enough to force themselves into the circulation of Eu- rope, to extort universal admiration, and live, with- out the aid of municipal praise, and local approba- tion. From the period, however, of the first of the Bernstorfis, Denmark has made a great spring, and has advanced more within the last twenty or thirty years, than for the three preceding centuries. The peasants are now emancipated ; the laws of com- merce, foreign and interior, are simplified and ex- panded ; the transport of corn and cattle is made free ; a considerable degree of liberty is granted to the press : and slavery is to cease this verjr year in their West Indian possessions. If Ernest Bernstorff was the author of some less considerable measures, they are to be attributed more to the times, than to the defects of his understanding, or of his heart. To this great minister succeeded the favourite Struensee, and to him Ove Guildberg ; the first, with views of im- { movements, not destitute of liberality or genius, but ittle guided by judgment, or marked by moderation ; the latter, devoid of that energy and firmness which were necessary to execute the good he intended. In 1788, when the king became incapable of business, and the crown-prince assumed the government, Count An- drew Bernstorff, nephew of Ernest, was called to the ministry; and, while some nations were shrinking from the very name of innovation, and others over- turning every establishment, and violating every prin- ciple, Bernstorff steadily pursued, and ultimately effected, the gradual and bloodless amelioration of his country. His name will ever form a splendid epoch in the History of Denmark. The spirit of eco- nomical research and improvement which emanated from him still remains ; while the personal character of the prince of Denmark, and the zeal with which he seconded the projects of his favourite minister, seem to afford a guarantee for the continuation of the same system of administration. In his analysis of the present state of Denmark, Mr. Catteau, after a slight historical sketch of that coun- try, divides his subject into sixteen sections. 1. Geographical and physical qualities of the Danish territory : 2. Form of Government : 3. Administra- tion : 4. Institutions relative to government and admi- nistration : 5. Civil and criminal laws, and judiciary institutions : 6. Military system, land army, and ma- rine : 7. Finance : 8. Population : 9. Productive in- dustry, comprehending agriculture, the fisheries, and the extraction of mineral substances : 10. Manufactur- ing industry: 11. Commerce, interior and exterior, in- cluding the state of the great roads, the canals of na- vigation, the maritime insurances, the bank, &c. &c. : 12. Establishments of charity and public utility : 13. Religion: 14. Education: 15. Language, character, manners, and customs: 16. Sciences and arts. — This division we shall follow. From the southern limits of Holstein to the southern extremity of Norway, the Danish dominions extend to 300 miles* in length, and are, upon an average, from about 50 to 60 in breadth ; the whole forms an area of about 8000 square miles. The western coast of Jut- land, from Riba to Lemvig, is principally alluvial, and presents much greater advantages to the cultivator than he has yet drawn from it. The eastern coast is also extremely favourable to vegetation. A sandy and barren ridge stretching from north to south, be- tween the two coasts is unfavourable to every species of culture, and hardly capable of supporting the wild and stunted shrubs which languish upon its surface. Towards the north, where the Jutland peninsula ter- minates in the Baltic, every thing assumes an aspect * The mile alluded to here, and through the whole of the book, is the Danish mile, 15 to a degree, or 4000 toises in round numbers : the ancient mile of Norway is much more considera- ble. It may be as well to mention here, that the Danes reckon their money by rixdollars, marks, and schellings. A rixdollar contains 6 marks, and a mark 16 schellings ; 20 schellings are equal to one livre ; consequently, the pound sterling is equal u> 4 r. 4 m. 14 sen., or nearly 5 rixdollars. of barrenness and desolation. It is Arabia, without its sun or its verdant islands ; but not without its tem- pests or sands, which sometimes overwhelm what lit- tle feeble agriculture they may encounter, and convert the habitual wretchedness of the Jutlanders into se- vere and cruel misfortune. The Danish government has attempted to remedy this evil, in some measure, by encouraging the cultivation of those kind of shrubs which grow on the sea-shore, and by their roots give tenacity and aggregation to the sand. The Elymus Armaria, though found to be the most useful for that purpose, is still inadequate to the prevention of the calamity.* The Danish isles are of a green and pleasant aspect. The hills are turfed up to the top, or covered with trees ; the valleys animated by the passage of clear streams ; and the whole strikingly contrasted with the savage sterility, or imposing grandeur, of the scenes on the opposite coast of Jutland. All the seas of Denmark are well stored with fish ; and a vast number of deep friths and inlets afford a cheap and valuable communication with the interior of the couutry. The Danish rivers are neither numerous nor consi- derable. The climate, generally speakiug, is moist and subject to thick fogs, which almost obscure the horizon. Upon a mean of twenty-six years, it has rained for a hundred and thirty days every year, and thundered for thirteen. Their summer begins with June, and ends with September. A calm serene sky, and an atmosphere free from vapours, are very rarely the lot of the inhabitants of Denmark ; but the humi- dity with which the air is impregnated is highly fa- vourable to vegetation; and all kinds of corn and grass are cultivated there with success. To the south of Denmark are the countries of Sleswick and Holstein. Nature has divided these countries into two parts ; the one of which is called Geetsland, the other Marschland. Geetsland is the elevated ground situa- ted along the Baltic. The soil resembles that of Den- mark. The division of Marschland forms a band or stripe, which extends from the Elbe to the frontiers of Jutland, an alluvium gained and preserved from the sea, by a labour which, though vigilant and severe, is repaid by the most ample profits. The sea, however, in all these alluvial countries, seldom forgets his ori- ginal rights. Marschland, in the midst of all its tran- quillity, fat, and silence, was invaded by this element in the year 1634, with the loss of whole villiages, ma- ny thousands of horned cattle, and 1500 human be- ings. Nature is as wild and grand in Norway as she is productive in Marschland. Cataracts amid the dark pines ; the eternal snow on the mountains ; seas that bid adieu to the land, and stretch out to the end of the world ; an endless succession of the great and the ter- rible. — leave, the eye and the mind without repose. The climate of Norway is extremely favourable to the longevity of the human race, and sufficiently so to the life of inany animals domesticated by man. The horses are of good breed; the horned cattle excel- lent, though small. Crops of grain are extremely precarious, and often perish before they come to ma- turity.* In 1660, the very year in which this happier coun- try was laying the foundation of rational liberty by the wise restrictions imposed upon its returning monarch, the people of Denmark, by a solemn act, surrendered their natural rights into the hands of their sovereign, endowed him with absolute power, and, in express words, declared him, for all his politi- cal acts, only accountable to Him to whom all kings and governors are accountable. This revolution, simi- lar to that effected by the king and people at Stock- holm in 1772, was not a change from liberty to slave- * There is a Danish work, by Professor Viborg, upon those plants Which grow in sand. It has been very actively distri- buted in Jutland, by the Danish administration, and might be of considerable service in Norfolk, and other parts of Great Britain. * We shall take little notice of Iceland in this review, from the attention we mean to pay to that subject in the review of 'Voyage en Iceland, fait par ordre de saMajeste Danoise' 5 vols. 1802. TABLEAU DES ETATS DANOIS. 185 2; but from a worse sort of slavery to a better ; from e control of an insolent and venal senate, to that of one man : it was a change which simplified their de- gradation, and, by lessening the number of their ty- rants, put their servitude more out of sight. There ceased immediately to be an arbitrary monarch in every parisn, and the distance of the oppressor, either operated as a diminution of the oppression, or was thought to do so. The same spirit, to be sure, which urged them to victory over one evil, might have led them on a little farther to the subjugation of both ; and they might have limited the king, by the same powers which enabled them to dissolve the senate. But Europe, at that period, knew no more of liberty than of galvanism ; and the peasants of Denmark no more dreamt of becoming free than the inhabitants of Paris do at this moment. ? At present, Denmark is in theory one of the most arbitrary governments on the face of the earth. It has remained so ever since the revolution to which we have just alluded ; in all which period the Danes have not, by any important act of rebellion, evinced an im- patience of their yoke, or any sense, that the enor- mous power delegated to their monarch has been im- properly exercised. In fact, the Danish government enjoys great reputation for its forbearance and mild- ness ; and sanctifies, in a certain degree, its execrable constitution by the moderation with which it is admi- nistered. We regret extremely that Mr. Catteau has given us, upon this curious subject of the Danish go- vernment, such a timid and sterile dissertation. Many governments are despotic in law, which are not de- spotic in fact ; not because they are restrained by their own moderation, but because, in spite of their theo- retical omnipotence, they are compelled, in many important points, to respect either public opinion, or the opinion of other balancing powers, which, without the express recognition of law, have gradually sprung up in the state. Russia and Imperial Rome had its praetorian guards. Turkey has its uhlema. Public opinion almost always makes some exceptions to its blind and slavish submission ; and in bowing its neck to the foot of a sultan, stipulates how hard he shall tread. The very fact of enjoying a mild government for a century and a halt, must, in their own estimation, have given the Danes a sort of right to a mild govern- ment. Ancient possession is a good title in all cases ; and the king of Denmark may have completely lost the power of doing many just and many unjust actions, from never having exercised it in particular instances. What he has not done for so long a period, he may not dare to do now ; and he may in vain produce consti- tutional parchment, abrogated by the general feelings of those whom they were intended to control. Instead of any information of this kind, the author of the Tab- leau has given us at full length the constitutional act of 1660, and has afforded us no other knowledge than we could procure from the most vulgar histories ; as if state papers were the best place to look for consti- tutions, and as if the rights of king and people were really adjusted, by the form and solemnity of covenant and pacts j by oaths of allegiance, or oaths of corona- tion. The king has his privy counsel, to which he names whom he pleases, with the exception of the heir-ap- parent, and the princes of the blood, who sit there of right. It is customary, also, that the heads of colleges should sit there. These colleges are the offices" in which the various business of the state is carried on. The chancelry of Denmark interprets all laws which concern privileges in litigation, and the different de- grees of authority belonging to various public bodies. It watches over the interests of church and poor : is- sues patents, edicts, grants, letters of naturalization, legitimacy, and nobility. The archives of the state are also under its custody. The German chancelry has the same powers and privileges in Sleswick and Holstein, which are fiefs of the empire. There is a college for foreign affairs ; two colleges of finance ; and a college of economy and commerce ; which, divided into four parts, directs its attention to four objects : 1, Manufacturing Industry; 2, Commerce; 3, Produc- tions ; 4, Possessions in the East Indies. All projects and speculations, relative U> any of these objects, are referred to this college ; and every encouragement given to the prosecution of such as it may approve. There are two other colleges, which respectively ma- nage the army and navy. The total number is nme. The court of Denmark is on a footing of great sim- plicity. The pomp introduced by Christian IV., who modelled his establishments after those of Louis XIV., has been laid aside, and a degree of economy adopted, much more congenial to the manners of the people, and the resources of the country. The hereditary nobility of Denmark may be divided into those of the ancient, those of the modern fiefs, and the personal nobility. The first class are only distinguished from the second, by the more extensive privileges annexed to their fiefs ; as it has been the policy of the court of Denmark, in latter times, not to grant such immunities to the possessors of noble lands as had been accorded to them at earlier periods. Both of these classes, how- ever, derive their nobility from their estates, which are inalienable, and descend according to the laws of primogeniture. In the third class, nobility derives from the person, and not from the estate. To prevent the iemale noblesse from marrying beneath their rank, and to preserve the dignity of their order, nine or ten Protestant nunneries have been from time to time en- dowed, in each of which about twelve noble women are accommodated, who, not bound by any vow, find in these societies an economical and elegant re- tirement. The nobility of Norway have no fiefs. The nobility of Holstein and Sleswick derive their nobility from their fiefs, and are possessed of very extensive privileges. Every thing which concerns their com- mon interest is discussed in a convention held periodi- cally in the town of Keil ; during the vacations of the convention, there is a permanent deputation resident in the same town. Interests so well watched by the no- bles themselves, are necessarily respected by the court of Denmark. The same institution of free nunneries for the female nobility prevails in these provinces. Societies of this sort might perhaps be extended to other classes, and to other countries, with some utility. The only obj iction to a nunnery is, that those who change their mind cannot change their situation. That a number of unmarried females should collect together into one mass, and subject themselves to some few rules of convenience, is a system which might afford great resources and accommodation to a number of helpless individals, without proving injurious to the community ; unless, indeed, any very timid statesman shall be alarmed at the progress of celibacy, and ima- gine that the increase and multiplication of the human race may become a mere antiquated habit. The lowest courts in Denmark are composed of a judge and a secretary, both chosen by the landed pro- prietors within the jurisdiction, but confirmed by the king, in whose name all their proceedings are carried on. These courts have their sessions once a week in Denmark, and are attended by four or five burgesses or farmers, in the capacity of assessors, who occasionally give their advice upon subjects of which their particu- lar experience may entitle them to judge. From this jurisdiction there is appeal to a higher court, held every month in different places in Denmark, by judges paid by the crown. The last appeal for Norway and Den- mark is to the Hoieste Rett, or supreme court, fixed at Copenhagen, which is occupied for nine months in the year, and composed half of noble, half of plebeian judges. This is the only tribunal in which the advo- cates plead viva voce; in all the others, litigation is carried on by writing. The king takes no cognizance of pecuniary suits determined by this court, but re- serves to himself a revision of all its sentences which affect the fife or honour of the subject. It has always been the policy of the court of Denmark to render jus- tice as cheap as possible. We would have been glad to have learnt from Mr. Catteau, whether or not the cheapness of justice operates as an encouragement to litigation ; and whether (which we believe- is most commonly the case) the quality of Danish justice is not in the ratio of the price. But this gentleman, as we have before remarked, is so taken up by the formal part of institutions, that he has neither leisure nor in- 186 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. clination to say much of their spirit. The Tribunal of Conciliation, established since 1795, is composed of the most intelligent and respectable men in the vicinage, and its sessions are private. It is competent to deter- mine upon a great number of civil questions ; and if both parties agree to the arrangement proposed by the court, its decree is registered, and has legal authority. If the parties cannot be brought to agreement by the amicable interference of the mediators, they are at full liberty to prosecute their suit in a court of justice. All the proceedings of the Tribunal of Conciliation are upon unstamped paper, and they cannot be protracted longer than fifteen days in the country, and eight days in the towns, unless both parties consent to a longer delay. The expenses, which do not exceed three shillings, are not payable, but in case of reconciliation. During the three years preceding this institution, there came be- fore the courts of law, 25,521 causes ; and, for the three years following, 9653, making the astonishing difference of fifteen thousand eight hundred and sixty-three law- suits. The idea of this court was taken from the Dutch, among whom it likewise produced the most happy effects. And when we consider what an im- portant point it is, that there should be time for dispu- tants to cool ; the strong probability there is, that four or five impartial men from the vicinage will take a right view of the case, and the reluctance that any man must feel to embark his reputation and property in op- position to their opinion, we cannot entertain a doubt of the beauty and importance of the invention. It is hardly possible that it should be bad justice which sat- isfies both parties, and this species of mediation has no validity but upon such condition. It is curious, too, to remark, how much the progress of rancour obstructs the natural sense of justice ; it appears that plaintiff and defendant were both satisfied in 15,868 causes : if all these causes had come on to a regular hearing, and the parties been inflamed by the expense and the pub- licity of the quarrel, we doubt if there would have been one single man out of the whole number who would have acknowledged that his cause was justly given against him. There are some provisions in the cnminal law of Denmark, for the personal liberty of the subject, which cannot be of much importance, so long as the dispensing power is vested in the crown ; however, though they are not much, they are better than noth- ing ; and have probably some effect in offences mere- ly criminal, where the passions and interests of the governors do not interfere. Mr. Catteau considers the law which admits the accused to bail, upon finding proper security, to be unjust, because the poor cannot avail themselves of it. But this is bad reasoning ; for every country has a right to impose such restrictions and liens upon the accused, that they shall be forth- coming for trial ; at the same time, those restrictions are not to be more severe than the necessity of the case requires. The primary and most obvious meth- od of security is imprisonment. Whoever can point out any other method of effecting the same object, less oppressive to himself and as satisfactory to the justice of the country, has a right to require that it be adopted ; whoever cannot, must remain in prison. It is a principle that should never be lost sight of, that no other vexation should be imposed upon him than what is absolutely necessary for the purposes of fu- ture investigation. The imprisonment of a poor man, because he cannot find bail, is not a gratuitous vexa- tion, but a necessary severity ; justified only, because no other, nor milder mode of security can, in that par- ticular instance, be produced. Inquisitorial and penal torture is, in some instances, allowed by the laws of Denmark : the former, after having been abolished, was re-established in 1771. The corporations have been gradually and covertly attacked in Denmark, as they have been in Great Bri- tain. The peasants, who had before been attached to the soil, were gradually enfranchised between 1788 and 1800 ; so that, on the first day of the latter year, there did not remain a single slave in the Danish do- minions ; or, to speak more correctly, slavery was equalized among all ranks of people. We need not descant ou the immense importance of this revolution ; and if Mr. Catteau had been of the same opinion, we should have been spared two pages of very bad decla- mation ; beginning, in the true French style, with " oh toi," and going on with what might be expected to follow such a beginning. The great mass of territorial proprietors in Denmark are the signiors, possessing fiefs with very extensive privileges and valuable exemptions from taxes. Ma- ny persons hold lands under these proprietors, with in- terests in the land of very different descriptions. There are some cultivators who possess freeholds, but the number of these is very inconsiderable. The greater number of farmers are what the French call Metayers, put in by the landlord, furnished with stock and seed at his expense, and repaying him in product, labour, or any other manner agreed on in the contract. This is the first, or lowest stage of tenantry, and is the surest sign of a poor country. The feudal system never took root very deeply in Norway : the greater part of the lands are freehold, and cultivated by their owners. Those which are held under the few privi- leged fiefs which still exist in Norway, are subjected to less galling conditions than farms of a similar te- nure in Denmark. Marriage is a mere civil contract among the privileged orders ; the presence of a priest is necessary for its celebration among the lower or- ders. In every large town, there are two public tu- tors appointed, who, in conjunction with the magis- trates, watch over the interests of wards, at the same time that they occupy themselves with the care of the education of children within the limits of their juris- diction. Natural children are perhaps more favour- ed in Denmark than in any other kingdom in Europe ; they have half the portion which the law allots to le- gitimate children, and the whole if there are no legit- imate. A very curious circumstance took j)lace in the king- dom of Denmark, in the middle of the last century, re- lative to the infliction of capital punishment upon mal- efactors. They were attended from the prison to the place of execution by priests, accompanied by a very numerous procession, singing psalms, &c. &c, : which ended, a long discourse was addressed by the priest to the culprit, who was hung as soon as he had heard it. This spectacle, and all the pious cares bestowed upon the criminals, so far seduced the imaginations of the people, that many of them committed murder purpose ly to enjoy such inestimable advantages, and the gov- ernment was positively obliged to make hanging dull as well as deadly, before it ceased to be an object of popular ambition. In 1796, the Danish land forces amounted to 74,654. of which 50,880 were militia.* Amongst the troops on the Norway establishment, is a regiment of ska- ters. The pay of a colonel in the Danish service is a- bout 1 740 rixdollarspe?- annum, with some perquisites; that of a private six schellings a day. The entry into the Danish states from the German side is naturally strong. The passage between Lubeck and Hamburg is only eight miles, and the country intersected by marshes, rivers, and lakes. The straits of the Baltic afford considerable security to the Danish isles ; and there are very few points in which an army could pen- etrate through the Norway mountains to overrun that country. The principal fortresses of Norway are Co- penhagen, Rendsbhurg, Gluchstadt, and Frederick- shall. In 1801, the Danish navy consisted of 3 ships of 80 guns, 12 of 74, 2 of 70, 3 of 64, and 2 of 60 ; 4 fri- gates of 40, 3 of 36, 3 of 24, and a number of small vessels : in all, 22 of the line, and 10 frigates.f The revenues of Denmark are derived from the in- terest of a capital formed by the sale of crown lands ; from a share in the tithes ; from the rights of fishing * The militia is not embodied in regiments by itself, but di- vided among the various regiments of the line. t In 1791, the Swedish army amounted to 47,000 men, regu- lars and militia; their nrvy to not more than 16 ships of the line: before the war it was about equal to the Danish navy. The author of Voyage des deux Francais places the regular troops of Russia at 250,000 men, exclusive of guards and garri- sons ; and her navy, as it existed in 1791, at 30 frigates, and 50 sail of the line, of which 8 were of 110 guns. This is a brief picture of forces of the Baltic powers. TABLEAU DES ETATS DANOIS. 187 and hunting let to farm ; from licenses granted to the farmers to distil their own spirits ; from the mint, post, turnpikes, lotteries, and the passage of the Sound. About the year 1740, the number of vessels which passed the Sound both ways, was annually from 4000 to 5000; in 1752, the number of 6000 was considered as very extraordinary. They have increased since in the following ratio : — 1770 - - 7,736 1777 - - 9,047 1783 - - 11,166 1790 - - 9,784 1795 - - 12,113 1800 - - 9,048 In 1770, the Sound duties amounted to 459,890 rix* dollars ; and they have probably been increased since that period to about half a miUion. To these sources of revenue are to be added, a capitation tax, a land tax, a tax on rank, a tax on places, pensions, and the clergy ; the stamps, customs, and excise ; constituting a revenue of 7,270,172 rixdollars.* The following is a table of the expenses of the Danish government. Rixdollars. The court ..... 250,000 The minor branches of the royal family - 160,000 Civil servants .... 707,500 Secret service money and pensions - 231,000 •Army 2,080,000 Navy 1,200,000 East India colonies - - - 180,000 Bounties to commerce and manufactures 300,000 Annuities .... 27,000 Buildings and repairs ' - - 120,000 Interest of the public debt - - 1,100,000 Sinking fund .... 150,000 Total 6,525,500 The state of the Danish debt does not appear to be well ascertained. Voyage des deux Francois makes it amount to 13,645,046 rixdollars. Catteau seems to think it must have been above 20,000,000 rixdollars at that period. The Danish government has had great recourse to the usual expedient of issuing paper money. So easy a method of getting rich has of course been abused ; and the paper was, in the year 1790, at a dis- count of 8, 9, and 10 per cent. There is, in general, a great want of specie in Denmark : for, though all the Sound duties are paid in gold and silver, the govern- rnent is forced to export a considerable quantity of the precious metals, for the payment of its foreign debts and agents ; and, in spite of the rigid prohibitions to the contrary, the Jews, who swarm at Copenhagen, — export Danish ducats to a large value. The court of Denmark has no great credit out of its own dominions, and has always experienced a considerable difficulty in raising its loans in Switzerland, Genoa, and Hol- land, the usual markets it has resorted to for that purpose. In -the census taken in 1769, the return was as follows : In Denmark . 785,690 Norway Iceland . 722,141 - 46,201 Ferro Isles . 4,754 Sleswick . 243,605 Holstein . 134,665 Oldenbourg am Delmenhurst 79,071 2,017,127 This census was taken during the summer, a season in which great numbers of sailors are absent from their * Upon the subject of the Danish revenues, see Toze's Intro- duction to the Statistics, edited and improved by Heinz, 1799, torn. xi. From this work Mr. Catteau has taken his informa- tion concerning the Danish revenues. See also the 19th cap. vol. ii. of Voyage des deux Francais, which is admirable for extent and precision of information. In general, indeed, this work cannot be too much attended toby those who wish to be- come acquainted with the statistics of the north of Europe. families ; and as it does not include the army, the total ought, perhaps, to be raised to 2,225,000. The pre. sent population of the Danish states, calculating from the tables of life and death, should be about two mill- ions and a half ; the census lately taken has not yet been published. From registers kept for a number of years, it appears that the number of marriages were to the whole population, as 1 to 125 ; and the number of births to the whole population, were as 1 to 32 or 33 ; of deaths, as 1 to 38. In 1797, in the diocese of Vibourg, out of 8600 children, 80 were bastard : in the diocese of Fionia, 280 out of 1146. Out of 1356, dead in the first of these dioceses, 100 had attained the age of 80, and one of 100. In 1769, the population of the towns was 144,105 ; in 1787, it was 142,880. In the first of these years, the population of the country was 641,485 ; and in the latter, 667,165. The population of Copenhagen consisted, in the year 1799, of 42,142 males, and 41 476 females. The deaths exceeded the births, says Mr. Catteau ; and to prove it, he exhibits a table of deaths and births for six years. Upon cal- culating this table, however, it appears, that the sum of the births, at Copenhagen, during that period, — exceeds the sum of the deaths by 491 or nearly 82 per annum; about .1 — of the whole population of the __6 — ,or nearly 12 16' city. The whole kingdom increases j-jjY in a year.* There is no city in Denmark proper, except Copenhagen, which has a population of more than 5000 souls. The density of population in Den- mark proper is about 1300 to the square milcf The proportion of births and deaths in the duchies, is the same as in Denmark; that of marriages, as 1 to 115. Altona, the second city in the Danish dominions, has a population of 20,000. The density of population in Marschland is 6000 per square mile. The paucity of inhabitants in Norway is not merely referable to the difficulties of subsistence, but to the administrative system established there, and to the bad state of its civil and economical laws. It has been more than once exposed to the horrors of famine, by the monopo- ly of the commerce of grain established there, from which, however, it has at length been delivered. The proportion of births to the living, is as 1 to 35 ; that of deaths to the living, as 1 to 49.$ So that the whole Danish dominions increase, every year, by about 2~oT and Norway, which has the worst climate and soil, by about ^2 5 exceeding the common increase by nearly ITcTo of the whole population. Out of 26,197 persons who died in Denmark in 1799, there were 165 between 80 and 100 ; and out of 18,354 who died in Norway the same year, there were 208 individuals of the same ad- vanced age. The country population is to the town population in the ratio of 13 to 137. In some parts of Nordland and Finmarken, the population is as low as 15 to the square mile. Within the last twenty or thirty years, the Danes have done a great deal for the improvement of their country. The peasants, as we have before mentioned, are freed from the soil. The greater part of the cleri- cal, and much of the lay tithes are redeemed, and the corvees and other servile tenures begin to be commu- ted for money. A bank of credit is established at Co- penhagen, for the loan of money to persons engaged in speculations of agriculture and mining. The interest is 4 per cent., and the money is repaid by instalments in the course of from 21 to 28 years. In the course of 12 years, the bank has lent about three millions of rix- dollars. The external and domestic commerce of grain is now placed upon the most liberal footing. The culture of potatoes (ce fruit modeste) has at length found its way into Denmark, after meeting with the same objections which it experienced at its first intro- duction from every nation in Europe. Hops are a good deal attended to in Fionia, though enough are not yet grown for the supply of the country. Tobacco is cul- tivated in the environs of Fredericia, in Jutland, by the A The average time in which old countries double their pop- ulation is stated by Adam Smith to be about 500 years. t The same rule is used here as in p. 279. I This proportion is very remarkable proof of the longevity of the Norwegians. 186 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. industrious descendants of a French colony planted there by Frederick IV. Very little hemp and flax are grown in the Danish dominions. They had veterinary schools previous to the present establishment of them in Great Britain. Indeed, there was a greater neces- sity for them in Denmark ; as no country in Europe has suffered so severely from diseases among its ani- mals. The decay of the woods begins to be very per- ceptible ; and great quantities, both for fuel and con- struction, are annually imported from the other coun- tries bordering the Baltic. They have pit-coal ; but, either from its inferior quality, or their little skill in working it, they are forced to purchase to a consider- able amount from England. The Danes have been almost driven out of the herring-market by the Swedes. Their principal export of this kind is dried fish ; though at Altona their fisheries are carried on with more appearance of enterprise than elsewhere. The dis- tricts of Hedemarken, Hodeland, Toten, and llomerige are the parts of Norway most celebrated for the culti- vation of grain, which principally consists of oats. The distress in Norway is sometimes so great that the inhabitants are compelled to make bread of the various sorts of lichens, mingled with their grain. It has lately been discovered that the Lichen rangiferus, or rein- deer's moss, is extremely well calculated for that pur- pose. The Norway fisheries bring to the amount of a rnillion and a half of rixdollars annually into the coun- try. The most remarkable mines in Norway are, the gold mines of Edsvold, the silver mines of Konigsberg. the copper mines of Raeraas, and the iron mines of Arendal and Kragerae, the cobalt mines of Fossum, and the black-lead mines of Englidal. The court of Denmark is not yet cured of the folly of entering into commercial speculations on its own account. From the year 1769 to 1792, 78,000 rixdollars per annum have been lost on the royal mines alone. Norway produces marble of different colours, very beautiful granites, mill and whet-stones, and alum. The principal manufactures of Denmark are those of cloth, cotton-printing, sugar-refining, and porcelain ; of which latter manufactures, carried on by the crown, the patient proprietors hope that the profits may at some future period equal the expenses. The manufac- tories for large and small arms are at Frederickwaerk and Elsineur ; and at the gates of Copenhagen there has lately been erected a cotton spinning-mill upon the construction so well known in England. At Tendern, in Sleswick, there is a manufacture of lace ; and very considerable glass manufactories in several parts of Norway. All the manufacturing arts have evidently travelled from Lubeck and Hamburg ; the greater part of the manufacturers are of German parentage ; and vast numbers of manufacturing Germans are to be met with, not only in Denmark, but throughout Sweden and Russia. The Holstein canal, uniting the Baltic and the North Sea, is extremely favourable to the interior commerce of Denmark, by rendering unnecessary the long and dangerous voyage round the peninsula of Jutland. In the year 1785, there passed through this canal 409 Danish, and 44 foreign ships. In the year 1798, 1086 Danish and 1164 foreign. This canal is so advanta- geous, and the passage round Jutland so very bad, that goods, before the creation of the canal, were very of- ten sent by land from Lubeck to Hamburg. The amount of cargoes despatched from Copenhagen for Iceland, between the years 1764 and 1784, was 2,560- 000 rix dollars ; that of the returns, 4,665,000. The commerce with the isles of Foeroe is quite inconsider- able. The exports from Greenland, in the year 1787, amounted to 168,475 rixdollars ; its imports to 74,427'. None of these possessions are suffered to trade with foreign nations, but through the intervention of the mother country. The cargoes despatched to the Dan- ish West Indies consist of all sorts of provisions, of iron, of copper, of various Danish manufactures, and of some East India goods. The returns are made in sugar, rum, cotton, indigo, tobacco, and coffee. There are about 75 vessels employed in this commerce, from the burden of 40 to 200 tons. If the slave trade, in pursuance of the laws to that •ffect, ceases in the Danish colonies, the establish- ments on the coast of Africa will become rather a burden than a profit. What measures have been ta- ken to insure the abolition, and whether or not the phi lanthrophy of the mother country is likely to be de- feated by the interested views of the colonists, are del- icate points, which Mr. Catteau, who otten seems to think more of himself than of his reader, passes over with his usual timidity and caution. The present year is the period at which all further importation of ne- groes ought to cease ; and if this wise and noble law be really carried into execution, the Danes will enjoy the glory of having been the first to erase this foulest blot in the morality of Europe, and to abolish a wick- ed and absurd traffic, which purchases its luxuries at the price of impending massacre, and present oppres- sion. Deferred revenge is always put out to compound interest, and exacts its dues with more than Judaical rigour. The Africans have begun with the French : Jam proximus ardet Ucalegon. Tea, rhubarb and porcelain are the principal arti- cles brought from China. The factories in the East Indies send home cotton cloths, silk, sugar, rice, pep- per, ginger, indigo, opium, and arrack. Their most important East Indian settlement is Fredericksnager.* Denmark, after having been long overshadowed by the active industry of the Hanseatic towns, and embar- rassed by its ignorance of the true principles of com- - merce, has at length established important commer- cial connections with all the nations of Europe, and has regulated those connections by very liberal and en- lightened principles. The regulations for the customs, published in 1791, are a very remarkable proof of this assertion. Every thing is there arranged upon the most just and simple principles ; and the whole code evidences the striking progress of mercantile knowl- edge in that country. In looking over the particulars of the Danish commerce, we were struck with the im- mense increase of their freightage during the wars of this country ; a circumstance which should certainly have rendered them rather less disposed to complain of the vexations imposed upon the neutral powers du- ring such periods.f In the first six months of the year 1706,5032 lasts of Danish shipping were taken up by strangers for American voyages only. The commer- cial tonnage of Denmark is put at about 85,000 lasts. There appears to exist in the kingdom of Denmark, according to the account of Mr. Catteau, a laudible spirit of religious toleration; such as, in some instan ces, we might copy, with great advantage, in this isl- and. It is not, for instance, necessary in Denmark, that a man should be a Lutheran, before he can be the mayor of a town ; and incredible as it may seem to some people, there are many officers and magistrates, who are found capable of civil trusts, though they do not take the sacraments, exactly in the form pre- scribed by the established church. There is no doubt, however, of the existence of this very extraordinary fact ; and if Mr. Catteau's authority is called in ques- tion, we are ready to corroborate it by the testimony ot more than one dozen German statistics. The Dan ish church consists of 13 bishops, 227 archpriests, and 2462 priests. The principal part of the benefices are, in Norway, in the gift of the crown. In some parts of Denmark, the proprietors of the privileged lands are the patrons ; in other parts, the parishes. The reve- nues of the clergy are from the same sources as our own clergy. The sum of the church revenues is com- puted to be 1,391,895 rixdollars; which is little more than 500 for each clergyman.* The whole court ot Denmark is so liberal upon the subject of sectaries, * We should very willingly have gone through every branch of the Danish commerce, if we had not been apprehensive of extending this article too far. Mr. Catteau gives no general tables of the Danish exports and imports. A German work places them, for the year 1768, as follows :— Exports, 3,067,051 rixdollars; imports, 3,215,085.— Ur. Kunden, par Gatspari. t To say nothing of the increased sale of Norway timber, out of 86,000 lasts exported from Norway, 1799, 76,000 came to Great Britain. % The Jews, however, are still prohibited from entering th» kingdom of Norway. TABLEAU DES ETATS DANOIS. 189 that the whole royal family and the Bishop of Seland assisted at the worship of the Calvinists in 1789, when they celebrated, in the most public manner, the cente- nary of the foundation of their church. In spite of this tolerant spirit, it is computed that there are not more than 1800 Calvinists in the whole Danish domin- ions. At Christianfeld, on the frontiers of Selswick and Jutland, there is a colony of Northern Quakers, or Hernhutes, of which Mr. Catteau has given a very agreeable account. They appear to be characterized by the same neatness, order, industry, and absurdity, as their brethren in this country ; taking the utmost care of the sick and destitute, and thoroughly persua- ded that by these good deeds, aided by long pockets and slouched hats, they are acting up to the true spirit of the Gospel. The Greenlanders were converted to Christianity by a Norwegian priest, named John Ege- de. He was so eminently suscessful in the object of his mission, and contrived to make himself so very much beloved, that his memory is still held among them in the highest veneration; and they actually date their chronology from the year of his arrival, as we do ours from the birth of our Saviour. There are, in the University of Copenhagen, seven professors of theology, two of civil law, two of mathe- matics, one of Latin and rhetorick, one of Greek, one of oriental languages, one of history, five of medicine, one of agriculture, and one of statistics. They enjoy a salary of from 1000 to 1500 rixdollars, and are well lodged in the university. The University of Copen- hagen is extremely rich, and enjoys an income of 3,000,000 rixdollars. Even Mr. Catteau admits that it has need of refoim. In fact, the reputation of uni- versities is almost always short-lived, or else it sur- vives their merit. If they are endowed, professors Decome fat-witted, and never imagine that the arts and sciences are any thing else but incomes. If uni- versities, slenderly endowed, are rendered famous by the accidental occurence of a few great teachers, the number of scholars attracted there by the repu- tation of the place, makes the situation of a pro- fessor worth intriguing for. The learned pate is not fond of ducking to the golden fool. He who has the best talents for getting the office, has most commonly the least for filling it ; and men are made moral and mathematical teachers by the same trick and filthi- ness with which they are made tide-waiters, and clerks of the kitchen. The number of students in the University of Copen- hagen is about 700 : they come not only from Denmark, but from Norway and Iceland : the latter are distin- guished as well for the regularity of their manners, as for the intensity of their application ; the instruments of which application are furnished to them by a library containing 60,000 volumes. The Danes have primary schools established in their towns, but which have need of much reform, before they can answer all the benefi- cial ends of such an institution. We should have been happy to have learned from Mr. Catteau, the degree of information diffused among the lower orders in the Danish dominions ; but upon this subject he is silent. In the University of Keil there is an institution for the instruction of schoolmasters ; and in the list of students in the same university, we were a good deal amused to find only one student dedicating himself to belles lettres. The people of Holstein and Sleswick are Dutch in their manners, character, and appearance. Their lan- guage is in general the low German ; though the better sort of people in the towns begin to speak high Ger- man.* In Jutland and the isles, the Danish language is spoken : within half a century this language has been cultivated with some attention : before that peri- nd, the Danish writers preferred to make use of the Laiin or German language. It is in the island of Fin- land that it is spoken with the greatest purity. The Danish character is not agreeable. It is marked by silence, phlegm and reserve. A Dane is the excess x Mr. Catteau's description of Heligoland is entertaining. In an island containing a population of 2000, there is neither I horse, cart, nor plough. We could not have imagined the i possibility of such a fact in any part of Europe. and extravagance of a Dutchman; more breeched, more ponderous, and more saturnine. He is not often a bad member of society in the great points of morals, and seldom a good one in the lighter requisites of man- ners. His understanding is alive only to the useful and the profitable ; he never li"ves for what is merely gracious, courteous, and ornamental. His faculties seem to be drenched and slackened by the eternal fogs in which he resides ; he is never alert, elastic, nor se- rene. His state of animal spirits is so low, that what in other countries would.be deemed dejection, pro- ceeding from casual misfortune, is the habitual ten our and complexion of his mind. In all the operations of his understanding, he must have time. He is capable of undertaking great journeys; but he travels only a foot pace, and never leaps nor runs. He loves arith- metic better than lyric poetry, and affects Cocker rath- er than Pindar. He is slow to speak of fountains and amorous maidens; tut can take a spell at porisms as well as another ; and will make profound and exten- sive combinations of thought, if you pay him for it, and do not insist that he shall be brisk or brief. There is something, on the contrary, extremely plea- sing in the Norwegian style of character. The Nor- wegian expresses firmness and elevation in all that he says and does. In comparison with the Danes, he has always been a free man ; and you read his history in his looks. He is not apt, to be sure, to forgive his enemies ; but he does not deserve any ; for he is hos- pitable in the extreme, and prevents the needy in their wants. It is not possible for a writer of this country to speak ill of the Norwegians ; for, of all strangers, the people of Norway love and admire the British the most. In reading Mr. Catteau's account of the con- gealed and blighted Laplanders, we were struck with the infinite delight they must have in dying ; the on- ly circumstance in which they can enjoy any superior- ity over the rest of mankind ; or which tends, in their instance, to verify the theory of the equality of human condition. If we pass over Tycho Brahe, and the well known history of the Scaldes, of the chronicles of Isleif, Saemunder, Hiinfronde, Snorro, Sturleson, and other Islandic worthies, the list of Danish literati will best prove that they have no literati at all. Are there twenty persons in Great Britain who have ever heard of Longomontanus, Nicholas Stenaonis, Sperling Lau- renburg, Huitfeild, Gramn, Holberg, Langebeck, Car- stens, Suhm, Kofod, Anger? or of the living Wad, Fabricius, Hanch, Tode, and Zaega ? We do riot deny merit to these various personages ; many of them may be much admired by those who are more conver- sant in Danish literature than we can pretend to be , but they are certainly not names on which the learned fame of any country can be built very high. They have no classical celebrity and diffusion : they are not an universal language ; they have not enlarged their original dominion, and become the authors of Europe instead of the authors of Denmark. It would be loss of time to speak of the fine arts in Denmark: they hardly exist. We have been compelled to pass over many parts of Mr. Catteau's book more precipitately than we could have wished ; but we hope we have said and ex- hibited enough of it, to satisfy the public that it is, upon the whole, a very valuable publication. The two great requisites for his undertaking, moderation and industry, we are convinced this gentleman pos- sesses in an eminent degree. He represents every thing without prejudice, and he represents every thing authentically. The same cool and judicious disposi- tion which clears him from the spirit of party, makes him perhaps cautious in excess. We are convinced that every thing he says is true ; but we have been sometimes induced to suspect that we do not see the whole truth. After all, perhaps, he has told as much truth as he could do, compatibly with the opportunity of telling any. A person more disposed to touch upon critical and offensive subjects might not have sub- mitted as diligently to the investigation of truth, with which passion was not concerned. How few writers are, at the same time, laborious, impartial, and in trepid ! 190 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. We cannot conclude *his article without expressing the high sense we entertain of the importance of such researches as those in which Mr. Catteau has been engaged. They must form the basis of all interior re- gulations, and ought principally to influence the con- duct of every country in its relations towards foreign powers. As they contain the best estimate of the wealth and happiness of a people, they bring theory to the strictest test; and measure, better than all reasoning, the wisdom with which laws are made, and the mildness with which they are administered. If such judicious and elaborate surveys of the state of this and other countries in Europe, had been made from time to time for the last two centuries, they would have quickened and matured the progress of knowledge, and the art of governing by throwing light on the spirit and tendency of laws ; they would have checked the spirit of officious interference in legisla- tion ; have softened persecution, and expanded narrow conceptions of national policy. The happiness of a nation would have been proclaimed by the fulness of its garners, and the multitudes of its sheep and oxen ; and rulers might sometimes have sacrificed their schemes of ambition, or their unfeeling splendour, at the detail of silent fields, empty harbours, and famished peasants. THOUGHTS ON THE RESIDENCE OF THE CLERGY. (Edinburgh Review, 1803.) Thoughts on the Residence of the Clergy. By John Stur- ges, LL. D. This pamphlet is the production of a gentleman who has acquired a right to teach the duties of the clerical character by fulfilling them ; and who has exercised that right, in the present instance, with honour to himself, and benefit to the public. From the particu- lar character of understanding evinced in this work, we should conceive Dr. Sturges to possess a very pow- erful claim to be heard on all questions referable to the decision of practicable good sense. He has avail- ed himself of his experience to observe ; and of his ob- servation, to judge well ; he neither loves his profes- sion too little, nor too much ; is alive to its interests, without being insensible to those of the community at large ; and treats of those points where his previous habits might render a little intemperance venial, as well as probable, with the most perfect good humour and moderation. As exceptions to the general and indisputable princi- ple of residence, Dr. Sturges urges the smallness of some livings ; the probability that their incumbents be engaged in the task of education, or in ecclesiasti- cal duty, in situations where their talents may be more appropriately and importantly employed. Dr. Sturges is also of opinion, that the power of enforcing residence under certain limits, should be invested in the bishops ; and that the acts prohibiting the clergy to hold or to cultivate land, should be in a great mea- sure repealed. We sincerely hope that the two cases suggested by Dr. Sturges, of the clergyman who may keep a school, or be engaged in the duty of some parish not his own, will be attended to in the construction of the ap- proaching bill, and admitted as pleas for non-resi- dence. It certainly is better that a clergyman should do the duty of his own benefice, rather than of any other. But the injury done to the community, is not commensurate with the vexation imposed upon the in- dividual. Such a measure is either too harsh, not to become obsolete ; or, by harassing the clergy with a very severe restriction, to gain a very disproportionate good to the commnuity, would bring the profession in- to disrepute, and have a tendency to introduce a class of men into the church, of less liberal manners, edu- cation, and connection ; points of the utmost import- ance, in our present state of religion and wealth. No- thing has enabled men to do wrong with impunity so much as the extreme severities of the penalties with which the law has threatened them. The only me- thod to insure success to the bill for enforcing ecclesi- astical residence, is to consult the convenience of the clergy in its construction, as far as is possibly con- sistent with the object desired, and even to sacrifice something that ought to be done, in order that much may be done. Upon this principle, the clergyman should not be confined to his parsonage-house, but to the precincts of his parish. Some advantage would certainly attend the residence of the clergy in their official mansions ; but, as we have before observed, the good one party would obtain, bears no sort of pro- portion to the evil the other would suffer. Upon the propriety of investing the bench of bishops with a power of enforcing residence, we confess our- selves to entertain very serious doubts. A bishop has frequently a very temporary interest in his diocese : he has favours to ask ; and he must grant them Leave of absence will be granted to powerful inter- cession ; and refused, upon stronger pleas, to men with- out friends. Bishops are frequently men advanced in years, or immersed in study. A single person who compels many others to their duty, has much odium to bear, and much activity to exert. A bishop is sub- ject to caprice, and enmity, and passion, in common with other individuals; there is some danger, also, that his power over the clergy may be converted to a political purpose. From innumerable causes, which might be reasoned upon to great length we are appre- hensive the object of the legislature will be entirely frustrated in a few years, if it be committed to episco- pal superintendence and care ; though, upon the first view of the subject, no other scheme can appear so natural and so wise. Dr. Sturges observes, that after all the conceivable justifications of non-residence are enumerated in the act, many others must from time to time occur, and in- dicate the propriety of vesting somewhere a discreti- onary power. If this be true of the penalties by which the clergy are governed, it is equally true of other pe- nal laws ; and the law should extend to every offence the contingency of discretionary omission. The ob- jection to this system is, that it trusts too much to the sagacity and the probity of the judge, and exposes a country to the partial, lax, and corrupt administration of its laws. It is certainly inconvenient, in many ca- ses, to have no other guide to resort to but the unac- commodating mandates of an act of Parliament : yet, of the two inconveniences, it is the least. It is some palliation of the evils of discretionary power, that it should be exercised (as by the court of chancery) in the face of day, and that the moderator himself be moderated by the force of precedent and opinion. A bishop will exercise this discretionary power in the dark ; he is at full liberty to depart to-morrow from the precedent he has established to-day , and to apply the same decisions to different, or different decisions to the same circumstances, as his humour or interest may dictate. Such power may be exercised well un- der one judge of extraordinary integrity ; but it is not very probable he will find a proper successor. To suppose a series of men so much superior to tempta- tion, and to construct a system of church government upon such a supposition, is to build upon sand, with materials not more durable than the foundation. Sir William Scott has made it very clear, by his ex- cellent speech, that it is not possible, in the present state of the revenues of the English church, to apply a radical cure to the evil of non-residence. It is there stated, that out of 11,700 livings, there are 6000 under 80Z. per annum ; many of those, 20L, 301., and some as low as 21. or 3Z. per annum. In such a state of endow- ment, all idea of rigid residence is out of the question. Emoluments which a footman would spurn, can hard- ly recompense a scholar and a gentleman. A mere palliation is all that can be applied ; and these are the ingredients of which we wish such a palliation should be composed : — 1. Let the clergymen have full liberty of farming, and be put in this respect exactly upon a footing with laymen. 2. Power to reside in any other house in the parish, as well as the parsonage-house, and to be absent five months in the year. 3. Schoolmasters, and ministers bond fide discharg. TRAVELS FROM PALESTINE. 191 ing ministerial functions in another parish, exempt from residence. 4. Penalties in proportion to the value of livings, and number of times the offence has been committed. '5. Common informers to sue as at present ; though probably it might be right to make the name of one parishioner a necessary addition ; and a proof of non- residence might be made to operate as a nonsuit in an action for tithes. 6. No action for non-residence to lie where the be- nefice was less than 80Z. per annum ; and the powers of bishops to remain precisely as they are. These indulgences would leave the clergy without excuse, would reduce the informations to a salutary number, and diminish the odium consequent upon them, by directing their effects against men who re- gard church perferment merely as a source of revenue, not as an obligation to the discharge of important du- ties. We venture to prognosticate, that a bill of greater severity either wfll not pass the House of Commons, cr will fail of its object. Considering the times and circumstances, we are convinced we have stated the greatest quantum of attainable good ; which of course will not be attained, by the customary error, of at- tending to what is desirable to be done, rather than to what it is practicable to do. TRAVELS FROM PALESTINE. (Edinburgh Re- view, 1807.) The Travels of Bertrandon de la Brocquiere, First Esquire- Carver to Philip le Bon, Duke of Burgundy, during the years 1432, 1433.— Translated from the French, by Thomas Johnes, Esq. In the year 1432, many great lords in the dominions of Burgundy, holding office under Duke Philip le Bon, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Among them was his first esquire-carver La Brocquiere, who, hav- ing performed many devout pilgrimages in Palestine, returned sick to Jerusalem, and during his convales- cence, formed the bold scheme of returning to France over land. This led him to traverse the western parts of Asia, and Eastern Europe ; and, during the whole journey, except towards the end of it, he passed through the dominions of the Mussulmen. The exe- cution of such a journey even at this day, would not be without difficulty ; and it was then thought to be impossible. It was in vain that his companions at- tempted to dissuade him ; he was obstinate ; and, set- ting out, overcome every obstacle ; returned in the course of the year 1433, and presented himself to the duke in his Saracen dress, and on the horse which had carried him during the whole of his journey. The duke, after the fashion of great people, conceiving that the glory of his esquire-carver was his own, stiused the work to be printed and published. The following is a brief extract of this valiant per- son's perigrinations. 'After performing the customary pilgrimages, we went,' says La Brocquiere, ' to the mountain where Jesus fasted forty days ; to Jordan, where he was baptized ; to the church of St. Martha, where Lazarus was raised from the dead ; to Bethle- hem, where he was born ; to the birth place of St. John the Baptist ; to the house of Zachariah ; and, lastly, to the holy cross, where the tree grew that formed the real cross.' From Jerusalem the first gen- tleman-carver betook himself to Mount Sinai, paying pretty handsomely to the Saracens for that privilege. These infidels do not appear to have ever prevented the Christian pilgrims from indulging their curiosity and devotion in visiting the most interesting evangeli- cal objects in the Holy Land ; but, after charging a good round price for their gratification, contented themselves with occasionally kicking them, and spit- ting upon them. In his way to Mount Sinai, the esquire-carver passed through the Valley of Hebron, where he tells us, Adam was created ; and from thence to Gaza, where they showed him the columns of the building which Samson pulled down; though, of the identity of the building, the esquire seems to enter- tain some doubts. At Gaza five of his companions fell sick and returned to Jerusalem. The second day's journey in the desert the carver fell ill also,— returned to Gaza, where he was cured by a Samaritan, — and finding his way back to Jerusalem, hired some pleasant lodgings on Mount Sion. Before he proceeded on his grand expedition over land, he undertook a little expedition to Nazareth — hearing, first of all, divine service at Cordeliers, and imploring, at the tomb of our lady, her protection for his journey. From Jerusalem their first stage was Acre, where they gave up their intended expedition, and repaired to Baruth, whence Sir Samson de La- laing and the author sallied afresh, under better aus- pices, to Damascus. He speaks with great pleasure of the valley where Noah built the ark, through which valley he passed in his way to Damascus ; upon enter- ing which town he was knocked down by a Saracen for wearing an ugly hat — as he probably would be in London for the same offence in the year 1807. At Damascus, he informs us the Christians are locked up every night, as they are in English workhouses, night and day, when they happen to be poor. The greatest misfortune attendant upon this Damascene incarcera- tion , is the extreme irregularity with which the doors are opened in the morning, their janitor having no certain hour of quitting his bed. At Damascus, he saw the place where St. Paul had a vision. < I saw, also,' says he, ' the stone from which St. George mounted his horse, when he went to combat the dra- gon. It is two feet square ; and they say, that when formerly the Saracens attempted to carry it away, in spite of all the strength they employed, they could not succeed.' After having seen Damascus, he returns with Sir Samson to Baruth ; and communicates his intentions of returning over land to France to his com- panions. They state to him the astonishing difficulties he will have to overcome in the execution of so extra- ordinary a project ; but the admirable carver, deter- mined to make no bones, and to cut his way through every obstacle, persists in his scheme, and bids them a final adieu. He is determined, however, not to be baffled in his subordinate expedition to Nazareth; and, having now got rid of his timid companions, accom- plishes it with ease. We shall here present our read- ers with an extract from this part of his journal, re- questing them to admire the naif manner in which he speaks of the vestiges of ecclesiastical history. ' Acre, though in a plain of about four leagues in extent, is surrounded on three sides by mountains, and on the fourth by the sea. I made acquaintance there with a Venetian merchant called Aubert Franc, who received me well, and procured me much useful information respecting my two pilgrimages, by which I profited. With the aid of his advice, I took the road to Nazareth ; and, having crossed an extensive plain, came to the fountain, the water of which our Lord changed into wine at the marriage of Archetreclin; it is near a village where St. Peter is said to have been born. ' Nazareth is another large village, built between two moun- tains ; but the place where the angel Gabriel came to an- nounce to the Virgin Mary that she would be a mother, is in a pitiful state. The church that had been there built is entirely destroyed ; and of the house wherein our lady was when the angel appeared to her, not the smallest remnant exists. 4 From Nazareth I went to Mount Tabor, the place where the transfiguration of our Lord, and many other miracles took effect. These pasturages attract the Arabs who come thither with their beasts ; and I was forced to engage four additional men as an escort, two of whom were Arabs. The ascent of the mountain is rugged, because there is no road ; I performed it on the back of a mule, but it took me two hours. The summit is terminated by an almost circular plain of about two bow- shots in length, and one in width. It was formerly enclosed with walls, the ruins of which, and the ditches, are still visible : within the wall, and around it, were several churches, and one especially, where, although in ruins, full pardon for vice and sin is gained. ' We went to lodge at Samaria, because I wished to see the lake of Tiberias, where it is said St. Peter was accustomed to fish ; and, by so doing, some pardons may be gained, for it was the ember week of September. The Moucre left me to myself the whole day. Samaria is situated on the extremity of a mountain. We entered at the clc-se of day, and left it at mid- night to visit the lake. The Moucre had proposed this hour to evade the tribute exacted from all who go thither ; but the night hindred me from seeing the surrounding country. « I went first to Joseph's Well, so called from his being cut 193 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. into it by his brethren. There is a handsome mosque near it, which I entered with my Moucre, pretending to be a Saracen. • Further on is a stone bridge over the Jordon, called Jacob's Bridge, on account of a house hard by, said to be the residence of that patriarch. The river flows from a gentle lake situated at the foot of a mountain to the north-west, on which Namcar- din has a very handsome castle.'— (pp. 122—128.) From Damascus, to which he returns after his expe- dition to Nazareth, the first carver of Philip le Bon sets out v/ith the caravan for Bursa. Before he begins upon his journey, he expatiates with much satisfac- tion upon the admirable method of shoeing horses at Damascus — a panegyric which certainly gives us the* lowest ideas of that art in the reign of Philip le Bon ; for it appears that, out of fifty days, his horse was lame for twenty-one, owing to this ingenious method of shoeing. As a mark of gratitude to the leader of the caravan, the esquire presents him with a pot of green ginger; and the caravan proceeds. Before it has advanced one day's journey, the esquire, however, de- viates from the road, to pay his devoirs to a miracu- lous image of our Lady ot Serdenay, which always sweats — not ordinary sudorific matter — but an oil of great ecclesiastical efficacy. While travelling with the caravan, he learnt to sit cross-legged, got drunk privately, and was nearly murdered by some Saracens, who discovered that he had money. In some parts of Syria, M. de la Brocquiere met with an opinion, which must have been extremely favourable to the spirit of proselytism, in so very hot a country — an opinion that the infidels have a very bad smell, and that this is only to be removed by baptism. But as the baptism was according to the Greek ritual, by total immersion, Bertrandon seems to have a distant suspicion that this miracle may be resolved into the simple phenomenon of washing. He speaks well of the Turks, and repre- sents them, to our surprise, as a very gay, laughing people. We thought Turkish gravity had been almost proverbial. The natives of the countries through which we passed, pray (says he) for the conversion of Christians ; and especially request that there may be never sent among them again such another terrible man as Godfrey of Boulogne. At Couhongue the cara- van broke up ; and here he quitted a Mameluke sol- dier, who had kept him company during the whole of the journey, and to whose courage and fidelity Europe, Philip le Bon, and Mr. Johnes of Hafod, are principally indebted for the preservation of the first esquire- carver. ' I bade adieu,' he says, ' to my Mameluke. This good man, whose name was Mohammed, had done me innumerable servi- ces. He was very charitable, and never refused alms when asked in the name of God. It was through charity he had been so kind to me ; and I must confess that, without his assis- tance, I could not have performed my journey without incur- ring the greatest danger : and that had it not been for his kind- ness, I should often have been exposed to cold and hunger, and much embarrassed with my horse. ' On taking leave of him, I was desirous of showing my gra- titude ; but he would not accept of any thing except a piece of our fine European cloth to cover his head, which seemed to please him much. He told me all the occasions that had come to his knowledge, on which, if it had not been for him, I should have run risks of being assassinated, and warned me to be very circumspect in my connections with the Saracens, for that there were among them some as wicked as the Franks. I write this to recall to my reader's memory, that the person who, from his love to God, did me so many and essential kind- nesses, was a man not of our faith.'— (pp. 196, 197.) For the rest of his journey, he travelled with the family of the leader of the caravan, without any oc- currence more remarkable than those we have already noticed — arrived at Constantinople, and passed through Germany to the court of Philip le Bon. Here his nar- rative concludes. Nor does the carver vouchsafe to inform us of the changes which time had made in the appetite of that great prince ; whether veal was more pleasing to him than lamb — if his favourite morsels were still in request — if animal succulence were as grateful to him as before the departure of the carver — or if this semisanguineous partiality had given wa.y to a taste for cinereous and torrefied meats. All these things the first esquire-carver might have said, — none of them he does say —nor does Mr. Johnes of Hafod supply, by any antiquarian conjectures of his own, the distressing silence of the original. Saving such omis- sions, there is something pleasant in the narrative of this arch-divider of fowls. He is an honest, brave, liberal man ; and tells his singular story with great brevity and plainness. We are obliged to Mr. Johnes for the amusement he has afforded us ; and we hope he will persevere in his gentlemanlike, honourable, and useful occupations. LETTER ON THE CURATE'S SALARY BILL.* (Edinburgh Review, 1808.) A Letter to the Right Honourable Spencer Perceval, on a Sub- ject connected with his Bill, now under Discussion in Parlia- ment, for improving the Situation of Stipendiary Curates. 8vo. Hatchard, London. 1808. The poverty of curates has long been a favourite theme with novelists, sentimental tourists, and elegi- ac poets. But notwithstanding the known accuracy of this class of philosophers, we cannot help suspect- ing that there is a good deal of misconception in the popular estimate of the amount of the evil. A very great proportion of all the curacies in Eng- land are filled with men to whom the emolument is a matter of subordinate importance. They are filled by young gentlemen who have recently left college, who of course are able to subsist as they had subsisted for seven years before, and who are glad to have an op- portunity, on any terms, of acquiring a practical familiarity with the duties of their profession. They move away from them to higher situations as vacan- cies occur ; and make way for a new race of ecclesias- tical apprentices. To those men, the smallness of the appointment is a grievance of no very great mag- nitude ; nor is it fair, with relation to them, to repre- sent the ecclesiastical order as degraded by the indi- gence to which some of its members are condemned. With regard, again, to those who take curacies merely as a means of subsistence, and with the prospect of remaining permanently in that situation, it is certain that by far the greater part of them are persons born in a very humble rank in society, and accustomed to no greater opulence than that of an ordinary curate. There are scarcely any of those persons who have taken a degree in an university, and not very many who have "resided there at all. Now the son of a small Welsh farmer, who works hard every day for less than 40Z. a year, has no great reason to complain of degradation or disappointment, if he get from 50J. to 1001. for a moderate portion of labour one day in seven. The situation, accordingly, is looked upon by these people as extremely elegible ; and there is a great competition for curacies, even as they are now provided. The amount of the evil, then, as to the curates themselves, cannot be considered as very enor- mous, when there are so few who either actually feel, or are entitled to feel, much discontent on the subject. The late regulations about residence, too, by dimin- ishing the total number of curates, will obviously throw that office chiefly into the hands of the well ed- ucated and comparatively independent young men, who seek for the situation rather for practice than profit, and do not complain of the want of emolu- ment. Still we admit it to be an evil, that the resident clergyman of a parish should not be enabled to hold a i respectable rank in society from the regular emolu- ments of his office. But it is an evil which does not! exist exclusively among curates ; and which, wherev- er it exits, we are afraid is irremediable, without the: destruction of the Episcopal church, or the augmenta- tion of its patrimony. More than one-half of the liv- ings in England are under 80Z. a year ; and the whole income of the church, including that of the bishops, if * Now we are all dead, it may be amusing to state, that I was excited to this article by Sir William Scott, who brought me the book in his pocket ; and begged I would attend to it,' carefully concealing his name ; my own opinions happened' entirely to agree with his. CURATE'S SALARY BILL. 193 thrown into a common fund, would not afford above 180/. lor each living. Unless Mr. Perceval, therefore, will raise an additional million or two for the church, there must be poor curates, — and poor rectors also ; and unless he is to reduce the Episcopal hierarchy to the republican equality of our Presbyterian model, he must submit to very considerable inequalities in the distribution of this inadequate provision. instead of applying any of these remedies, howev- er, — instead of proposing to increase the income of the church, or to raise a fund for its lowest servants by a general assessment upon those who are more op- ulent, — instead of even tryir$j indirectly to raise the pay of curates, by raising their qualifications in res- pect of regular education, Mr. Perceval has been able, after long and profound study, to find no better cure for the endemic poverty of curates, than to ordain all rectors of certain income, to pay them one-fifth part of their emoluments, and to vest certain alarming powers in the bishops for the purpose of controlling their appointment. Now this scheme, it appears to us, has all the faults which it is possible for such a scheme to have. It is unjust and partial in its princi- ple, — it is evidently altogether and utterly inefficient for the correction of the evil in question, — and it in- troduces other evils infinitely greater than that which it vainly proposes to abolish. To this project, however, for increasing the salary of curates, Mr. Perceval has been so long and so obsti- nately partial, that he returned to the charge in the last session of Parliament, for the third time ; and ex- perienced, in spite of his present high situation, the same defeat which had baffled him in his previous at- tempts. Though the subject is gone by once more for the pre- sent, we cannot abstain from bestowing a little gentle violence to aid its merited descent into the gulf of oblivion, and to extinguish, if possible, that resurgent principle which has so often disturbed the serious bu- siness of the country, and averted the attention of the public from the great scenes that are acting in the world— to search for some golden medium between the selfishness of the sacred principal, and the rapacity of the sacred deputy. If church property is to be preserved, that precedent is not without danger which disposes at once of a fifth of all the valuable livings in England. We do not ad- vance this as an argument of any great importance against the bill, but only as an additional reason why its utility should, be placed in the clearest point of view, before it can attain the assent of well- wishers to the English establishment. Our first and greatest objection to such a measure, is the increase of power which it gives to the bench of bishops, — an evil which may produce the most serious effects, by placing r Jhe whole body of the clergy under the absolute control of men who are themselves so much under the influence of the crown. This, indeed, has been pretty effectually accomplished, by the late residence bill of Sir William Scott ; and our objection to the present bill is, that it tends to augment that ex- cessive power before conferred on the prelacy. If a clergyman lives in a situation which is destroy- ing his constitution, — he cannot exchange with a broth- er clergyman without the consent of the bishop ; in whose hands, under such circumstances, his life and death are actually placed. If he wishes to cultivate a little land for his amusement or better support, — he cannot do it without the license of the bishop. If he wishes to spend the last three or four months with a declining wife or child at some spot where better med- ical assistance can be procured, — he cannot do so with- out permission of the bishop. If he is struck with palsy, or racked with stone, — the bishop can confine him 'in the most remote village in England. In short, the power which the bishops at present possess over their clergy, is so enormous, that none but a fool or a madman would think of compromising his future hap- piness, by giving the most remote cause of offence to his diocesan. We ought to recollect, however, that the clergy constitute a body of 12 or 15,000 educated persons ; that the whole concern of education devolves N upon them ; that some share of the talents and infor- mation which exist in the country must naturally fall to their lot ; and that the complete subjugation of such a body of men cannot, in any point of view, be a mat- ter of indifference to a free country. It is in vain to talk of the good character of bishops. Bishops are men ; not always the wisest of men ; not always preferred for eminent virtues and talents, or for any good reason whatever known to the public. They are almost always devoid of striking and indecorous vices ; but a man may be very shallow, very arrogant, and very vindictive, though a bishop ; and pursue with unrelenting hatred a subordinate clergyman, whose principles he dislikes,* and whose genius he fears. Bishops, besides, are subject to the infirmities of old age, like other men ; and in the decay of strength and understanding, will be governed as other men are, by daughters and wives, and whoever ministers to their daily comforts. We have no doubt that such cases sometimes occur ; and produce, whenever they do oc- cur, a very capricious administration of ecclesiastical affairs.f As the power of enforcing residence must be lodged somewhere, why not give the bishop a council, consisting of two-thirds ecclesiastics, and. one-third laymen : and meeting at the same time as the sessions and deputy sessions ; — the bishop's license for non- residence to issue, of course, upon their recommenda- tions ? Considering the vexatious bustle of a new, and the laxity of an aged bishop, we cannot but think that a diocese would be much more steadily administered under this system than by the present means. Examine the constitutional effects of the power now granted to the bench. What hinders a bishop from becoming in the hands of the court, a very important agent in all county elections ? what clergyman would dare to refuse him his vote ? But it will be said that no bishop will ever condescend to such sort of in- trigues : — a most miserable answer to a most serious objection. The temptation is admitted, — the absence of all restraint ; — the dangerous consequences are equally admitted ; and the only preservative is the personal character of the individual. If this style of reasoning were general, what would become of law, constitution, and every wholesome restraint which we have been accumulating for so many centuries ? We have no intention to speak disrespectfully of constitut- ed authorities ; but when men can abuse power with impunity, and recommend themselves to their superi- ors by abusing it, it is but common sense to suppose that power will be abused ; if it is, the country will hereafter be convulsed to its very entrails, in tearing away that power from the prelacy which has been so improvidently conferred upon them. It is useless to talk of the power they anciently possessed. They have never possessed it since England has been what it now is. Since we have enjoyed practically a free constitution, the bishops have, in point of fact, possess- ed little or no power of oppression over their clergy. It must be remembered, however, that we are speak- ing only of probabilities : the fact may turn out to be quite the reverse ; the power vested in the bench may be exercised for spiritual purposes only, and with the greatest moderation. We shall be extremely happy to find that this is the case ; and it will reflect great honour upon those who have corrected the improvi- dence of the legislature by their own sense of propri- ety. It is contended by the friends of this law, that the respectability of the clergy depends in some measure on their wealth ; and that, as the rich bishop reflects a sort of worldly consequence upon the poor bishop, and the rich rector upon the poor rector ; — so, a rich class of curates could not fail to confer a greater degree of importance upon that class of men in general. This is all very well, if you intend to raise up some new fund in order to enrich curates : but you say that the riches of some constitute the dignity of the whole ; and then you immediately take away from the rector the *u» * Bold language for the year 1808. t I have seen in the course of my fife, as the mind of the prelate decayed, wife bishops, daughter bishops, butler buut- ops, and even cook and housekeeper bishops. W4 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. perfluous wealth which, according to your own method i of reasoning, is to decorate and dignify the order of | men to whom he belongs ! The bishops constitute the j first class in the church ; the beneficed clergy the second ; the curates the last. Why are you to take from the second to give to the last ? Why not as well from the first* to give to the second, — if you really mean to contend that the first and second are already too rich ? It is not true, however, that the class of rectors is generally either too rich, or even rich enough. There are 6000 livings below 80?. per annum, which is not very much above the average allowance of a curate. — If every rector, however, who has more than 500L is obliged to give a fifth part to a curate, there seems to be no reason why every bishop who has more than 1000Z. should not give a fifth part among the poor rec- tors in his diocese. It is in vain to say this assessment upon rectors is reasonable and right, because they may reside and do duty themselves, and then they will not need a curate ; — that their non-residence, in short, is a kind of delinquency for which they compound by this fine to the parish. If more than a half of the rectories in England are under 801. a year, and some thousands of them under 401., pluralities are absolutely necessary- and clergymen, who have not the gift of ubiquity, must be non-resident at some of them. Curates, there- tore, are not the deputies of negligent rectors ; — they are an order of priests absolutely necessary in the present form of the Church of England : and a rector incurs no shadow of delinquency by employing one, more than the king does by appointing a lord-lieuten- ant of Ireland, or a commissioner to the General As- sembly of the Church of Scotland, instead of doing the duty of these offices in person. If the legislature, therefore, is to interfere to raise the natural, i. e., the actual wages of this order of men, at the expense of the more opulent ministers of the Gospel, there seems to be no sort of reason for exempting the bishops from their share in this pious contribution, or for refusing to make a similar one for the benefit of all rectors who have less than 100Z. per annum. The true reason, however, for exempting my lords the bishops from this imposition, is, that they have the privilege of voting upon all bills brought in by Mr. Perceval, and of materially affecting his comfort and security by their parliamentary control and influence. This, however, is to cure what you believe to be un- just, by means which you must know to be unjust ; — to fly out against abuses which may be remedied with- out peril, and to connive at them when the attempt at a. remedy is attended with political danger ; to be mute and obsequious towards men who enjoy church prop- erty to the amount of 8 or 19,0002. per annum ; and to be so scandalized at those who possess as many hund- reds, that you must melt their revenues down into cu- racies, and save to the eye of political economy the spectacle of such flagrant inequality ! In the same style of reasoning, it may be asked why the lay impropnetors are not compelled to advance the salary of their perpetual curacies, up to a fifth of their estates? The answer, too, is equally obvious — Many lay improprietors have votes in both houses of Parliament ; and the only class of men this cowardly reformation attacks, is that which has no means of saying anything in its own defence. Even if the enrichment of curates were the most im- perious of all duties, it might very well be questioned, whether a more unequal and pernicious mode of ful- filling it could be devised than that enjoined by this bill. Curacies are not granted for the life of the cu- rate ; but for the life or incumbency or good-liking of the rector. It is only rectors worth 500Z. a-year who are compelled by Mr. Perceval to come down with a fifth to their deputy ; and these form but a very small proportion of the whole non-resident rectors ; so that ihe great multitude of curates must remain as poor as formerly,— and probably a little more discontented. Suppose, however, that one has actually entered on the enjoyment of 250lper annum. His wants, and his habits ol expense are enlarged by this increase of in- * The first unfortunately make the laws. come. In a year or two his rector dies, or exchargea his living ; and the poor man is reduced, by the effects of comparison, to a much worse state than before the operation of the bill. Can any person say that this is a wise and effectual mode of ameliorating the condi- tion of the lower clergy ? To us it almost appears to be invented 'for the express purpose of destroying those habits of economy and caution, which are so in- dispensably necessary to their situation. If it is urg- ed that the curate, knowing his wealth only to be tem- porary, will make use of it as a means of laying up a fund for some future day, — we admire the good sense of the man : but what becomes of all the provisions of the bill ? what becomes of that opulence which is to confer respectability upon all around it, and to radiate even upon the curates of Wales ? The money was expressly given to blacken his coat, — to render him convex and rosy, — to give him a sort of pseudo-recto- rial appearance, and to dazzle the parishioners at the rate of 2501. per annum. The poor man, actuated by those principles of common sense which are so con- trary to all the provisions of the bill, chooses to make a good thing of it, because he knows it will not last-, wears his old coat, rides his lean horse, and defrauds the class of curates of all the advantages which they were to derive from the sleekness and splendour of his appearance. It is of some importance to the welfare of a parish, and the credit of the church, that the curate and his rector should live upon good terms together. Such a bill, however, throws between them elements of mis- trust and hatred, which must render their agreement highly improbable. The curate would be perpetually prying into every little advance which the rector made upon his tithes, and claiming his proportionate in- crease. No respectable man could brook such inqui- sition ; some, we fear, would endeavour to prevent its effects by clandestine means. The church would be a perpetual scene of disgraceful animosities ; and the ears of the bishop never free from the clamours of ra->' pacity and irritation. It is some slight defect in such a bill, that it does not proportion reward to the labour done, but to the wealth of him for whom it is done. The curate of z parish containing 400 persons, may be paid as muchj as another person who has the care of 10,000 ; for, h 1 England, there is very little proportion between th(j value of a living, and the quantity of duty to be perl formed by its clergyman. The bill does not attain its object in the best way! Let the bishop refuse to allow of any certain curatt| upon a living above 500Z. per annum, who is not x} Master of Arts at one of the universities. Such cu# rates will then be obtained at a price which will renl der it worth the while of such men to take curacies J and such a degree and situation in society will secur i good curates much more effectually than the com cated provisions of this bill : for, prima facie pears to us much more probable, that a curate sh be respectable Avho is a Master of Arts in some Eng lish university, than if all that we knew about hir was, that he had a fifth of the profits of the living The object is, to fix a good clergyman in a parish The law will not trust the non-resident rector to fb both the price and the person ; but fixes the price, anc then leaves him the choice of' the person. Our plai is, to fix upon the description, of person, and then to. leave the price to find its level ; for the good price b4 no means implies a good person, but the good personi will be sure to get a good price. i Where the living will admit of it, we have commonji ly observed that the English clergy are desirous of putji tmg in a proper substitute. If this is so, the bill i* unnecessary ; for it proceeds on the very contrary sup. position, that the great mass of opulent clergy consul] nothing but economy in the choice of their curates. j It is very galling and irksome to any class of met to be compeUed to disclose their private circumi stances ; a provision contained in and absolutely ne cessary to this bill, under which the diocesan car! always compel the minister to disclose the full valu< of his living. After all, however, the main and conclusive objecj secur * omplii it ap/ shouh* SOCIETY FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF VICE. 196 tion to the bill is, that its provisions are drawn from such erroneous principles, and betray such gross ig- norance of human nature, that though it would infalli- bly produce a thousand mischiefs foreseen and not foreseen, it would evidently have no effect whatsoever in raising the salaries of curates. We do not put this as a case of common buyer and seller ; we allow that the parish is a third party, having an interest ;* we fully admit the right of the legislature to interfere for their relief. We only contend, that such inter- ference would be necessarily altogether ineffectual, so long as men can be found doing the duty of cu- rates, and willing to do it for less than the statutory minimum. If there is a competition of rectors for curates, it is quite unnecessary and absurd to make laws in favour of curates. The demand for them will do their busi- ness more effectually than the law. If, on the con- trary (as the fact plainly is) , there is a competition of curates for employment, is it possible to prevent this order of men from labouring under the regulation price ( Is it possible to prevent a curate from pledg- ing himself to his rector, that he will accept only half the legal salary, if he is so fortunate as to be pre- ferred among an host of rivals, who are willing to en- gage on the same terms ? You may make these con- tracts illegal : What then ? Men laugh at such pro- hibitions ; and they always become a dead letter. In nine instances out of ten, the contract would be ho- nourably adhered to ; and then what is the use of Mr. Perceval's law ? Where the contract was not adhered to, whom would the law benefit ? — A man utterly de- void of every particle of honour and good faith. And this is the new species of curate, who is to reflect dignity and importance upon his poorer brethren ! The law encourages breach of faith between gambler and gambler ; it arms broker against broker ; — but it t cannot arm clergyman against clergyman. Did any ': human being before, ever think of disseminating \ such a principle among the teachers of Christianity ? ; Did any ecclesiastic law, before this, ever depend for 1 its success upon the mutual treachery of men who -, ought to be examples to their fellow-creatures of every \ thing that is just and upright. We have said enough already upon the absurdity of * punishing all rich rectors for non-residence, as for a -presumptive delinquency. A law is already passed, 'fixing what shall be legal and sufficient causes for ', non-residence. Nothing can be more unjust, then, ■than to punish that absence which you admit to be -j legal. If the causes of absence are too numerous, 2 lessen them; but do not punish him who has availed himself of their existence. We deny, however, that 'they are too numerous. There are 6000 livings out of 11,000 in the English church under 80Z. per annum : 1 many of these 201., many 301. per annum. The "Jwhole task of education at the university, public •schools, private families, and in foreign travel, de- volves upon the clergy. A great part of the literature W their country is in their hands. Residence is a very 'proper and necessary measure ; but, considering all these circumstances, it requires a great deal of mode- ration and temper to carry it into effect, without doing more mischief than good. At present, however, the torrent sets the other way. Every lay plunderer, and every fanatical coxcomb, is forging fresh chains for the English clergy ; and we shall not be surprised, in a very little time, to see them absenting themselves from their benefices by a kind of day-rule, like pri- soners in the king's bench. The first bill, which was brought in by Sir William Scott, always saving and excepting the power granted to the bishops, is full of useful provisions, and characterized throughout by great practical wisdom. We have no doubt but that it has, upon the whole, improved the condition of the English church. Without caution, mildness, or infor- mation, however, it was peculiarly unfortunate to fol- low such a leader. We are extremely happy the bill was rejected. We have seldom witnessed more of ignorance and error stuffed and crammed into so very narrow a compass. Its origin, we are confident, is from the Tabernacle ; and its consequences would have been, to have sown the seeds of discord and treachery in an ecclesiastical constitution, which, un- der the care of prudent and honest men, may always be rendered a source of public happiness. One glaring omission in this bill we had almost for- gotten to mention. The chancellor of the exchequer has entirely neglected to make any provision for that very meritorious class of men, the lay curates, who do all the business of those offices, of which lazy and non-resident placemen receive the emoluments. So much delicacy and conscience, however, are here displayed on the subject of pocketing unearned emo- luments, that we have no doubt the moral irritability of this servant of the crown will speedily urge him to a species of reform, of which he may be the object as well as the mover. * We remember Horace's description of the misery of a parish where there is no resident clergyman. « Illacrymabiles Urgentur, ignotique longa Nocte, carent quia vote sacro.' PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF VICE. (Edinburgh Review, 1809.) Statement of the Proceedings of the Society for the Suppres- sion of Vice, from July 9 to November 1'2, read at their Ge- neral Meeting, held November 12, 1804. With an Appendix, containing the Plan of the Society, fyc, fyc, fyc. London, 1804. An Address to the Public from the Society for the Suppression of Vice, instituted in London, 1802. Part the Second. Containing an Account of the Proceedings of the Society from its original Institution. London. 1804. A Society that holds out as its object the suppres- sion of vice, must at first sight conciliate the favour of every respectable person ; and he who objects to an institution calculated apparently to d# so much good, is bound to give very clear and satisfactory reasons for his dissent from so popular an opinion. We cer- tainly have, for a long time, had doubts of its utility ; and now think ourselves called upon to state the grounds of our distrust. Though it were clear that individual informers are useful auxiliaries to the administration of the laws, it would by no means follow that these informers should be allowed to combine — to form themselves into a body — to make a public purse — and to prosecute un- der a common name. An informer, whether he is paid by the week, like the agents of this society — or by the crime, as in common cases — is, in general, a man of a .very indifferent character. So much fraud and deception are necessary for carrying on his trade — it is so odious to his fellow subjects — that no man of respectability will ever undertake it. It is evidently impossible to make such a character otherwise than odious. A man who receives weekly pay for prying into the transgressions of mankind, and bringing them to consequent punishment, will always be hated by mankind ; and the office must fall to the lot of some men of desperate fortunes and ambiguous character. The multiplication, therefore, of such officers, and the extensive patronage of such characters, may, by the management of large and opulent societies, become an evil nearly as great as the evils they would suppress. The alarm which a private and disguised accuser oc- casions in a neighbourhood, is knpwn to be prodigious, not only to the guilty, but to those who may be at once innocent, and ignorant, and timid. The destruc- tion of social confidence is another evil, the conse- quence of information. An informer gets access to my house or family — worms my secret out of me — and then betrays me to the magistrate. Now, all these evils may be tolerated in a small degree, while, in a greater degree, they would be perfectly intolerable. Thirty or forty informers roaming about the metro- polis, may frighten the mass of offenders a little, and do some good : ten thousand informers would either create an insurrection, or totally destroy the confi- dence and' cheerfulness of private life. Whatever may J 96 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. be said, therefore, of the single and insulted informer, it is quite a new question Avhen we come to a corpora- tion of informers supported by large contributions. The one may be a good, the other a very serious evil ; the one legal, the other wholly out of the contempla- tion of law — which often, and very wisely, allows in- dividuals to do what it forbids to many individuals as- sembled. If once combination is allowed for the suppression of vice, where are its limits to be? Its capital may as well consist of 100,000Z. per annum, as of a thou- sand : its numbers may increase from a thousand sub- scribers, which this society, it seems, had reached in its second year, to twenty thousand: and, in that case, what accused person of an inferior condition of life would have the temerity to stand against such a society ? Their mandates would very soon be law ; and there is no compliance into which they might not frighten the common people, and lower orders of tradesmen. The idea of a society of gentlemen, call- ing themselves an association for the suppression of vice, would alarm any small offender to a degree that would make him prefer any submission to any resist- ance. He would consider the very fact of being ac- cused by them, as almost sufficient to ruin him. An individual accuser accuses at his own expense ; and the risk he runs is a good security that the sub- ject will not be harassed by needless accusations — a security which, of course, he cannot have against such a society as this, to whom pecuniary loss is an object of such little consequence. It must never be for- gotten, that this is not a society for punishing people who have been found to transgress the law, but for accusing persons of transgressing the law ; and that before trial, the accused person is to be considered as innocent, and is to have every fair chance of estab- lishing his innocence. He must be no commo^ defen- dant, however, who does not contend against such a society with very fearful odds ; — the best counsel en- gaged for his om)onents — great practice in the parti- cular court and particular species of cause — witnesses thoroughly hackneyed in a court of justice — and an unlimited command of money. It by no means fol- lows, that the legislature, in allowing individuals to be informers, meant to subject the accused person to the superior weight and power of such societies. The very influence of names must have a considerable weigh*, with the jury. Lord Dartmouth, Lord Rad- stock, and the Bishop of Durham, versus a White- chapel butcher or a publican ! Is this a fair contest before a jury ? It is not so even in London; and what must it be in the country, where a society for the sup- pression of vice may consist of all the principal per- sons in the neighbourhood ? These societies are now established in York, in Reading, and in many other large towns. Wherever this is the case, it is far from improbable that the same persons, at the Quarter or Town Sessions, may be both judges and accusers; and still more fatally so, if the offence is tried by a special jury. This is already most notoriously the case in societies for the preservation of game. They prosecute a poacher ; — the jury is special ; and the poor wretch is found guilty by the very same persons who have accused him. If it is lawful for respectable men to combine for the purpose of turning informers, it is lawful for the lowest and most despicable race of informers to do the same thing; and then it is quite clear that every species of wickedness and extortion would be the con- sequence. We are rather surprised that no society of •perjured attorneys and fraudulent bankrupts has risen up in this metropolis, for the suppression of vice. A chairman, deputy-chairman, subscriptions, and an an- nual sermon would give great dignity to their pro- ceedings ; and they would soon begin to take some rank in the world. It is true that it is the duty of grand juries to inform against vice ; but the law knows the probable number «f grand jurymen, the times of their meeting, and* the description of persons of whom they consist. Of volun- tary societies it can know nothing — their numbers, their wealth, or the character of their members. It may therefore trust to a grand jury what it would by no means trust to an unknown combination A vast I distinction is to be made, too, between official duties and voluntary duties. The first are commonly carried on with calmness and moderation ; the latter often characterized, in their execution, by rash and intern perate zeal. The present society receives no members but those I who are of the Church of England. As we are now arguing the question generally, we have a right to make any supposition. It is equally free, therefore, upon general principles, for a society of sectarians to combine and exclude members of the Church of Eng- land ; and the suppression of vice may thus come in aid of Methodism, Jacobinism, or of any set of prin- ciples, however perilous, either to church or state. — The present society may, perhaps, consist of persons whose sentiments on these points are rational and re- spectable. Combinations, however, of this sort may give birth to something far different : and such a sup- position is a fair way of trying the question. We doubt if there be not some mischief in averting the fears and hopes of the people from the known and constituted authorities of the country to those self- created powers; — a society that punishes in the Strand, — another which rewards at Lloyd's Coffee- house ! If these things get to any great height, they throw an air of insignificance over those branches of ; the government to whom these cares properly de- volve, and whose authority is by these means assisted, till it is superseded. It is supposed that a project must necessarily be good, because it is intended for the aid of law and government. At this rate there should be a society in aid .of the government, for procuring intelligence from foreign parts, with accredited agents all over Europe. There should be a voluntary trans- port board, and a gratuitous victualling office. There should be a duplicate, in short, of every department of the state, — the one appointed by the king, and the other by itself. There should be a real Lord Glenber- vie in the woods and forests, — and with him a mon- ster, a voluntary Lord Glenbervie, serving without pay, and guiding gratis, with secret counsel, the axe of his prototype. If it be asked, who are the constituted authorities who are legally appointed to watch over morals, and whose functions the society usurp ? our answer is, that there are in England about 12,000 cler- gy, not unhandsomely paid for persuading the people, and about 4000 justices, 30 grand juries, and 40,000 constables, whose duty and whose inclination it is to compel them to do right. Under such circumstances, a voluntary moral society does indeed seem to be the purest result of volition ; for there certainly is not the smallest particle of necessity mingled with its exis- tence. It is hardly possible that a society for the suppres- sion of vice can ever be kept within the bounds of : good sense and moderation. If there are many mem- bers who have really become so from a feeling of duty, there will necessarily be some who enter the so' ciety to hide a bad character, and others whose ob- ject it is to recommend themselves to their betters by a sedulous and bustling inquisition into the immoralities of the public. • The loudest and noisiest suppressors will always carry it against the more prudent part of the community ; the most violent will be considered as the most moral ; and those who see the absurdity will, from the fear of being thought to encourage vice be reluctant to oppose it. It is of great importance to keep public opinion on i the side of virtue. To their authorized and legal cor- rectors, mankind are, on common occasions, ready enough to submit ; but there is something in the self- erection of a voluntary magistracy which creates so much disgust, that it almost renders vice popular, and puts the offence at a premium. We have no doubt but that the immediate effect of a voluntary combina- tion for the suppression of vice, is an involuntary com- bination in favour of the vices to be suppressed ; ana* I this is a very serious drawback from any good of: which such societies may be the occasion ; for the state of morals, at any one period, depends much more upon opinion than law ; ana to bring odious and dis gusting auxiliaries to the aid of virtue! is to do the ut» • SOCIETY FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF VICE. 19? most possible good to the cause of vice. We regret, that mankind are as they are ; and we sincerely wish that the species at large were as completely devoid of every vice and infirmity as the president, vice-presi- dent and committee of the suppressing society; bat, till they are thus regenerated, it is of the greatest con- sequent to teach them virtue and religion in a manner which will not make them hate both the one and the other. The greatest delicacy is required in the appli- cation of violence to moral and religious sentiment. — We forget that the object is, not to produce the out- ward compliance, but to raise up the inward feeling, which secures the outward compliance. You may drag men into church by main force, and prosecute them for buying a pot of beer, — and cut them off from the enjoyment of a leg of mutton ; — and you may do all this, till you make the common people hate Sunday, and the clergy, and religion, and every thing that re lates to such subjects. There are many crimes, in deed, where persuasion cannot be waited for, and where the untaught feelings of all men go along with the violence of the law. A robber and a murderer must be knocked on the head like mad dogs ; but we have no great opinion of the possibility of indicting men into piety, or of calling in the quarter sessions to the aid of religion. You may produce outward con formity by these means ; but you are so far from pro- ducing (the only thing worth producing) the inward feeling, that you incur a great risk of giving birth to a totally opposite sentiment. The violent modes of making men good, just allud- ed to, have been resorted to at periods when the science of legislation was not so well understood as it now is ; or when the manners of the age have been peculiarly gloomy or fanatical. The improved knowledge, and the improved temper of later times, push such laws into the back ground, and silently repeal them. A suppressing society, hunting every where for penalty and information, has a direct tendency to revive an- cient ignorance and fanaticism, — and to re-enact laws which, if ever they ought to have existed at all, were certainly calculated for a very different style of man- ners, and a very different degree of intormation. To compel men to go to church, under a penalty, appears to us to be absolutely absurd. The bitterest enemy of religion will necessarily be that person who is driven to a compliance with its outward ceremonies, by in- formers and justices of the peace. In the same man- ner, any constable who hears another swear an oath, has a right to seize him, and carry him before a ma- gistrate, where he is to be fined so much for each exe- cration. It is impossible to carry such laws into exe- cution : and it is lucky that it is impossible, — for their execution would create an infinitely greater evil than it attempted to remedy. The common sense and common feeling of mankind, if left to themselves, would silently repeal such laws ; and it is one of the evils of these societies, that they render absurdity eternal, and ignorance indestructible. Do not let us be misunderstood: upon the object to be accomplish- ed, there can be but one opinion ; — it is only upon the means employed, that there can be the slightest dif- ference of sentiment. To goto church is a duty of the greatest possible importance ; and on the blasphe- my and vulgarity of swearing, there can be but one opinion. But such duties are not the objects of legis- lation ; they must be left to the general state of pub- lic sentiment ; which sentiment must be influenced by example, by the exertions of the pulpit and the press, and, above all, by education. The fear of God can never be taught by constables, nor the pleasures of re- ligion be learnt from a common informer. Beginning with the best intentions in the world, 6uch societies must, in all probability, degenerate into a receptacle for every species of tittle-tattle, imperti- nence, and malice. Men, whose trade is rat-catching, love to catch rats ; the bug-destroyer seizes on his bug with delight ; and the suppressor is gratified by finding his vice. The last soon becomes a mere tradesman like the others ; none of them moralize, or lament that their respective evils should exist in the world. The public feeling is swallowed up in the pur- suit of a daily occupation, and in the display of a technical skill. Here, then, is a society of men. who invite accusation, — who receive it (almost unknown to themselves) with pleasure, — and who, if they hate dulness and inoccupation, can have very little pleasure in the innocence ot their fellow-creatures. The natu- ral consequence of all this is, that (besides that por- tion of rumour which every member contributes at the weekly meeting), their table must be covered with an- nonymous lies against the characters of individuals. Every servant discharged from his master's service, —every villain who hates the man he has injured,— every cowardly assassin of character, — now knows where his accusation will be received, and where they cannot fail to produce some portion of the mischiev- ous effects which he wishes. The very first step of such a society should be, to declare, in the plainest manner, that they would never receive any anonymous accusation. This would be the only security to the public, that they were not degrading themselves into a receptacle for malice and falsehood. Such a decla- ration would inspire some species of confidence ; and make us believe that their object was neither the love of power, nor the gratification of uncharitable feelings. The society for the suppression, however, have done no such thing. They request, indeed, the signature of the informers whom they invite ; but they do not (as they ought) make that signature an indispensa- ble condition. Nothing has disgusted us so much in the proceedings of this society, as the control which they exercise over the amusements of the poor. One of the specious titles under which this legal meanness is gratified is, Pre- vention of Cruelty to Animals. Of cruelty to animals, let the reader take the follow- ing specimens : Running an iron hook in the intestines of an animal ; presenting this first animal to another as his food ; and then pulling this second creature up, and suspending him by the barb in his stomach. Riding a horse till he drops, in order to see an inno- cent animal torn to pieces by the dogs. Keeping a poor animal upright for many weeks, to communicate a peculiar hardness to his flesh. Making deep incisions into the flesh of another ani- mal, while living, in order to make the muscles more firm. Immersing another animal, while living, in hot wa- ter. , Now we do fairly admit that such abominable cru- elties as these, are worthy of the interference of the law : and that the society should have punished them, cannot be matter of surprise to any feeling mind. But stop, gentle reader ! these cruelties are the cruelties of the suppressing committee, not of the poor. You must not think of punishing these. The first of these cruelties passes under the pretty name of angling; and therefore there can be no harm in it — the more particularly as the president himself has one of the best preserved trout streams in England. The next is hunting : and as many of the vice-presidents and of the committee hunt, it is not possible there can be any cruelty in hunting.* The next is, a process for making brawn — a dish never tasted by the poor, and therefore not to be disturbed by indictment. The fourth is the mode of crimping cod ; and the fifth of boiling lob- sters — all high-life cruelties, with which a justice of the peace has no business to meddle. The real thing which calls forth the sympathies, and harrows up the soul, is to see a number of boisterous artisans baiting a bull, or a bear ; not a savage hare, or a carnivorous stag — but a poor, innocent, timid bear — not pursued by magistrates, and deputy lieutenants, and men of * ' How reasonable creatures' (says the society) ' can en- joy a pastime which is the cause of such sufferings to brute animals, or how they can consider themselves entitled, for their own amusement, to stimulate those animals, by means of the antipathies which Providence has thought proper to place between them, to worry and tear and often to destroy each other, it is difficult to conceive. So inhuman a prac tice, by a retribution peculiarly just, tends obviously to ren der the human character brutal and ferocious,' &c, &c. {Address, p. 71, 72.) We take it for granted, that the reader sees clearly that no part of this description can possibly ap- ply to the case of hunting. WOR£S OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. I9S education, but by those who must necessarily seek their relaxation in noise and tumultuous merriment — by men whose feelings are blunted, and whose under- standing is wholly devoid of refinement. The society detail, with symptoms of great complacency, their detection of a bear-baiting in Blackboy Alley, Chick Lane, and the prosecution of the offenders before a magistrate. It appears to us, that nothing can be more partial and unjust than this kind of proceedings. A man of ten thousand a-year may worry a fox as much as he pleases — may encourage the breed of a mischievous animal, on purpose to worry it ; and a poor labourer is carried before a magistrate for paying sixpence to see an exhibition of courage between. a dog and a bear ! And cruelty may be practised to gorge the stomachs of the rich — none to enliven the holidays of the poor. We venerate those feelings which really protect creatures susceptible of pain, and incapable of complaint. But heaven-born pity, now- a-days, calls for the income tax, and the court guide ; and ascertains the rank and fortune of the tormentor before she weeps for the pain of the suflerer. It is astonishing how the natural feelings of mankind are distorted by false theories. Nothing can be more mischievous than to say, that the pain inflicted by the dog of a man of quality is not (when the strength of the two animals is the same) equal to that produced by the cur of a butcher. Haller, in his Pathology, expressly says, that the animal bitten knows no differ- ence in the quality of the biting animaVs master ; and it is now the universal opinion among all enlightened men, that the misery of the brawner would be very little diminished, if he could be made sensible that he was to be eaten up only by persons of the first fashion. The contrary supposition seems to us to be absolute nonsense ; it is the desertion of the true Baconian phi- losophy, and the substitution of mere unsupported conjecture in its place. The trespass, however, which calls forth all the energies of a suppressor, is the sound of a fiddle. That the common people are really enjoy- ing themselves, is now beyond all doubt : and away rush secretary, president, and committee, to clap the cotillion into the compter, and to bring back the life of the poor to its regular standard of decorous gloom. The gambling houses of St. James's remain untouch- ed. The peer ruins himself and his family with impu- nity ; while the Irish labourer is privately whipped for not making a better use of the excellent moral and religious education which he has received in the days of his youth. It is not true, as urged by the society, that the vices of the poor are carried on in houses of public resort, and those of the rich in their own houses. The socie- ty cannot be ignorant of the innumerable gambling- houses resorted to by men of fashion. Is there one they have suppressed, or attempted to suppress ? Can anything be more despicable than such distinc- tions as these ? Those who make them seem to have for other persons' vices all the rigor of the ancient Puritans — without a particle of their honesty, or their courage. To suppose that any society will attack the vices of people of fashion, is wholly out of the question. It the society consisted of tradesmen, they would infalli- bly be turned off by the vicious customers whose plea- sures they interrupted : and what gentleman so fond of suppressing as to interfere with the vices of good company, and inform against persons who were really genteel? He knows very well that the conseqence of such interference would be a complete exclusion from elegant society ; that the upper classes could not and woidd not endure it ; and that he must immediately lose his rank in the world, if his zeal subjected fash- ionable offenders to the slightest inconvenience from the law. Nothing, therefore, remains, but to rage against the Sunday dinners of the poor, and to prevent a bricklayer's labourer from losing, on the Seventh day, that beard which has been augmenting the other six. We see at the head of this society the names of several noblemen, and of other persons moving in the fashionable world. Is it possible they can be igno- rant of the innumerable offences against the law and morality which are committed by their own acquaint- ances and connections ? Is there one single instance where they have directed the attention of the society to this higher species of suppression, and sacrificed men of consideration to that zeal for virtue which watches so acutely over the vices of the poor ? It would give us very little pleasure to see a duchess sent to the Poultry compter ; but if we saw the socie- ty flying at such high game, we would at least say they were honest and courageous, whatever judgment we may form of their good sense. At present they should denominate themselves a society for suppress- ing the vices of persons whose income does not exceed £500 per annum ; and then, to put all classes upon an equal footing, there must be another society of bar- bers, butchers, and bakers, to return to the higher classes that moral character by which they are so highly benefited. To show how impossible it is to keep such societies within any kind of bounds, we shall quote a passage respecting circulating libraries, from their proceedings. * Your committee have good reasons for believing, that the circulation of their notices among the printsellers, warn- ing them against the sale or exhibition of indecent repre- sentations, has produced, and continues to produce the best effects. < But they have to lament that the extended establishments of circulating libraries, however useful they may be, in a variety of respects, to the easy and general diffusion of knowledge, are extremely injurious to morals and religion, by the indiscriminate admission which, they give to works of a prurient and immoral nature. It is a toilsome task to any virtuous and enligntened mind, to wade through the catalogues of these collections, and much more to select such books from them as have only an apparent bad ten dency. But your committee being convinced, that their at tention ousht to be directed to those institutions which pos sess such powerful and numerous means of poisoning the minds of young persons, and especially of the female youth, have therefore begun to make some endeavours towards their better regulation.' — Statement of the Proceedings for 1804, pp. 11, 12. In the same spirit we see them writing to a country magistrate in Devonshire, respecting a wake adver- tised in the public papers. Nothing can be more pre- sumptuous than such conduct, or produce, in the minds of impartial men, a more decisive impression against the society. The natural answer from the members of the socie- ty (the only ansAver they have ever made to the ene- mies of their institution) will be, that we are lovers of vice, — desirous of promoting indecency, of destroying the Sabbath, and of leaving mankind to the unre- strained gratification of their passions. We have only very calmly to reply, that we are neither so stupid nor so wicked as not to concur in- every scheme which has for its object the preservation of rational religion and sound morality : — but the scheme must be well concerted, — and those who are to carry it into execu- tion must deserve our confidence, from their talents and their character. Upon religion and morals de- pends the happiness of mankind ; — but the fortune of knaves and the power of fools are sometimes made to rest on the same apparent basis ; and we will jaever (it we can help it) allow a rogue to get rich, or a block- head to get powerful, under the sanction of these awful words. We do not by any means intend to apply these contemptuous epithets to the Society for the Sup- pression. That there are among their number some very odious hypocrites, is not impossible ; that many men who believe they come there from the love of virtue, do really join the society from the love of power, we do not doubt : but we see no reason to doubt that the great mass of subscribers consist of persons who have very sincere intentions of doing good. That they have, in some instances, done a great deal of good, we admit with the greatest plea- sure. We believe that in the hands of truly honest, intrepid, and, above all, discreet men, such a society might become a valuable institution, improve in some degree the public morals, and increase the public hap- piness. So many qualities, however, are required to carry it on well, — the temptations to absurdity and impertinence are so very great, — that we ever despair of seeing our wishes upon this subject realized. In the present instance, our object has been to suppress the arrogance of suppressors, — to keep them within CHARACTERS OF FOX 199 due bounds— to show them that to do good requires a I nions. But when the attorney-general for the time little more talent and reflection than they are aware being ingratiates himself with the court, by nibbling of,— and above all, to impress upon them that true I at this valuable privilege of the people, it is very easy zeal for virtue knows no distinction between the rich and the poor ; and that the cowardly and the mean can never be the true friends of morality, and the pro- moters of human happiness. If they attend to these rough doctrines, they will ever find in the writers of this journal their warmest admirers, and their most sincere advocates and friends. CHARACTERS OF FOX. (Edinburgh Review, 1809.) Characters of the late Charles James Fox. By Philopatris Varvicensis., 2 vols. 8vo. This singular work consists of a collection of all the panegyrics passed upon Mr. Fox, after his de- cease, in periodical publications, speeches, sermons, or elsewhere, — in a panegyric upon Mr. Fox by Philo- patris himself,— and in a volume of notes by the said Philopatris upon the said panegyric. Of ihe panegyrics, that by Sir James Mackintosh appears to us to be by far the best. It is remarkable for good sense, acting upon a perfect knowledge of his subject, for simplicity, and for feeling. Amid the languid or turgid efforts of mediocrity, it is delightful to notice the skill, attention, and resources of a supe- rior man, — of a man, too, who seems to feel what he v. rites, — who does not aim at conveying his meaning in rhetorical and ornamented phrases, but who uses plain words to express strong sensations. We cannot help wishing, indeed, that Sir James Mackintosh had been more diffuse upon the political character of Mr. Fox, the great feature of whose life was the long and unwearied opposition which he made to the low cunning, the profligate extravagance, the sycophant mediocrity, and the stupid obstinacy of the English court. To estimate the merit and the difficulty of this op- position, we must remember the enormous influence which the crown, through the medium of its patron- age, exercises in the remotest corners of the kingdom, —the number of subjects whom it pays,— the much greater number whom it keeps in a state of expecta- tion, — and the ferocious turpitude of those mercena- ries whose present prospects and future hopes are threatened by honest, and exposed by eloquent men. It is the easiest of all things, too, in this country, to make Englishmen believe that those who oppose the government wish to ruin the country. The English are a very busy people ; and, with all the faults of their governors, they are still a very happy people. They have, as they ought to have, a perfect confi- dence in the administration of justice. The rights which the different classes of men exercise the one over the other are arranged upon equitable principles. Life, liberty and property are protected from the vio- lence and caprice of power. The visible and imme- diate stake, therefore, for whxh politicians play, is not large enough to attract the notice of the people, and to call them off from their daily occupations, to investigate thoroughly the character and motives of men engaged in the business of legislation. The peo- ple can oiily understand, and attend to the last results of a long series of measures. They are impatient of the details which lead to these results ; and it is the easiest of all things to make them believe that those who insist upon such details are actuated only by fac- tious motives. We are all now groaning under the weight of taxes : but how often was Mr. Fox followed by the curses of his country for protesting against the two wars which have loaded us with these taxes? — the one of which wars has made America independ- ent, and the other rendered France omnipotent. The case is the same with all the branches of public liber- ty. If the broad and palpable question were, whether every book which issues from the press should be sub- jected to the license of a general censor, it would be impossible to blacken the character of any man who, to treat hostility to his measures as a minute and fn volous opposition to the government, and to persuade the mass of mankind that it is so. In fact, when a nation has become free, it is extremely difficult to per- suade them that their freedom is only to be preserved by perpetual and minute jealousy. They do not ob- serve that there is a constant, perhaps an unconscious, effort on the part of their governors, to diminish, and so ultimately to destroy, that freedom. They stupid- ly imagine that what is, will always be ; and, con- tented with the good they have already gained, are easily persuaded to suspect and vilify those friends — the object of whose life it is to preserve that good, and to increase it. It was the lot of Mr. Fox to fight this battle for the greater part of his life; in the course of which time he never was seduced by the love of power, wealth, nor popularity, to sacrifice the'happiness of the many to the interests of the few. He rightly thought, that kings, and all public officers, were instituted only for the good of those over whom they preside ; and he acted as if this conviction was always present to his mind ; disdaining and withstanding that idolatrous tendency of mankind, by which they so often not on- ly suffer, but invite ruiu from that power which they themselves have wisely created for their own happi- ness. He loved, too, the happiness of his country- men more than their favour; and while others were exhausting the resources, by flattering the ignorant prejudices and foolish passions of the country, Mr. Fox was content to be odious to the people, so long as he could be useful also. It will be long before we witness again such pertinacious opposition to the alarming power of the crown, and to the follies of our public measures, the necessary consequence of that power. That such opposition should ever be united again with such e...raordinary talents, it is perhaps, in vain to hope. One little exception to the eulogium of Sir James Mackintosh upon Mr. Fox, we cannot help making. We are no admirers of Mr. Fox's poetry. His Vers de Societe appears to us flat and insipid. To write verses was the only thing which Mr. Fox ever at- tempted to do, without doing it well. In that single instance he seems to have mistaken his talent. Immediately after the collection of panegyrics which these volumes, contain, follows the eulogium of Mr. Fox by Philopatris himself: and then a volume of notes upon a variety of topics which this eulogium has suggested. Of the laudatory talents of this War- wickshire patriot, we shall present our readers with a specimen. ' Mr. Fox, though not an adept in the use of political wiles, was v^ery unlikely to be the dupe of them. He was conversant in the ways ot man, as well as in the contents of hooks. He was acquainted with the peculiar language of states, their peculiar forms, and the grounds and effects of their peculiar usages. From his earliest youth, he had investigated the science of politics in the greater and the smaller scale; he had studied it in the records of history, both popular and rare — in the conferences of ambassadors — in the archives of royal cabinets — in the minuter detail of memoirs — and in collected or straggling anecdotes of the wrangles, intrigues, and cabals, which, springing up in the secret recesses of courts, shed their baneful influence on the determinations of sovereigns, the fortune of favourites, and the tranquillity of kingdoms. But that statesmen of all ages, like priests of all religions, are in all respects alike, is a doctrine the propagation of which he left, as an inglori- ous privilege, to the misanthrope, to the recluse, to the factious incendiary, and to the unlettered multitude. For himself, he thought it no very extraordinary stretch of penetration or charity, to admit that human nature is every where nearly as capable of emulation in good, as in evil. He boasted of no very exalted heroism, in opposing the calmness and firmness of conscious integrity to the shuffling and slippery movements, the feints in retreat, and feints in. advance, the dread of being over-reached, or detected in attempts to over-reach, and all the other humiliating and mortifying anxieties of the most accomplished proficients in the art of diplomacy. He reproached himself for no guilt, when he endeavoured to obtain that respect and con- fidence which the human heart unavoidably feels in its so called upon, defended the liberty of publishing opi- intercourse with persons who neither wound our pride, nor 200 WORKS OFTHE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. take aim at our happiness, in a war of hollow and ambigu- ous words. He was sensible of no weakness in believing tbat politicians who, after all, "know only as tbey are known," may, like otber human beings, be at first the in- voluntary creatures of circumstances, and seem incorrigible from the want of opportunities or incitements to correct themselves; that, bereft of the pleas usually urged in vin- dication of deceit, by men who are fearful of being de- ceived, they, in their official dealings with him, would not wantonly lavish the stores they had laid up for huckstering in a traffic, which, ceasing to be profitable, would begin to be infamous ; and that, possibly, here and there, if encour- aged by example, they might learn to prefer the shorter process, and surer results of plain dealing, to the delays, the vexations, and the uncertain or transient success, both of old-fashioned and new-fangled chicanery.'— (1. 209—211.) It is impossible to read this singular book without being everywhere struck with the lofty and honourable feelings, the enlightened benevolence, and sterling honesty with which it abounds. Its author is every- where the circumspect friend of those moral and reli- gious principles upon which the happiness of society rests. Though he is never timid, nor prejudiced, nor bigoted, his piety, not prudish and full of antiquated and affected tricks, presents itself with an earnest as- pect, and in a manly form ; obedient to reason, prone to investigation, and dedicatee! to honest purposes. — The writer, a clergyman, speaks of himself as a very independent man, who has always expressed his opin- ions without any fear of consequences, or any hope of bettering his condition. We sincerely believe he speaks the truth ; and revere him for the life he has led. Political independence — discouraged enough in these times among all classes of men — is sure, in the timid profession of the church, to doom a man to eter- nal poverty and obscurity. There are occasionally, in Philopatris, a great vigour of style and felicity of expression. His display of classical learning is quite unrivalled — his reading vari- ous and good : and we may observe, at intervals, a talent for wit, of which he might have' availed himself to excellent purpose, had it been compatible with the dignified style in which he generally conveys his sen- timents. With all these excellent qualities of head and heart, Ave have seldom met with a writer more full of faults than Philopatris. There is an event recorded in the Bible, which men who write books should keep constantly in their remembrance. It is there set forth, that many centuries ago. the earth was covered with a great flood, by which the whole of the human race, with the exception of one family, were destroyed. It appears also, that from thence, a* great alteration was made in the longevity of mankind, who, from a range of seven or eight hundred years, which they enjoyed before the flood, were confined to their present period of seventy or eighty years. This epoch in the history of man gave birth to the twofold division of the ante- diluvian and the postdiluvian style of writing, the lat- ter of which naturally contracted itself into those in- ferior limits which were better accommodated to the abridged duration of human life and literary labour. — Now, to forget this event, — to write without the fear of the deluge before his eyes, and to handle a subject as if mankind could lounge over a pamphlet for' ten years, as before their submersion, — is to be guilty of the most grievous error into which a writer can possi- bly fall. The author of this hook should call in the aid of some brilliant pencil, and cause the distressing scenes of the deluge to be portrayed in the most lively colours for his use. He should gaze at Noah and be brief. The ark should constantly remind him of the little time there is left for reading ; and he should learn, as they did in the ark, to crowd a great deal of matter into a very little compass. Philopatris must not only condense what he says in a narrower compass, but he must say it in a more nat- ural manner. Some persons can neither stir hand nor foot without making it clear that they are thinking of themselves, and laying little traps for approbation. In the course of two long volumes, the Patriot of War- wick is perpetually studying modes and postures : — the subject is the second consideration, and the mode of expression the first. Indeed, whole pages together seem to be mere exercises upon the English language, to evince the copiousness of our synonymes and to show the various methods in which the parts of speech can be marshalled and arrayed. This, which would be tiresome in the ephemeral productions of a newspa- per, is intolerable in two closely printed volumes. Again, strange as it may appear to this author to say so, he must not fall into the frequent mistake of rural politicians, by supposing that the understandings of all Europe are occupied with him and his opinions. His ludicrous self-importance is perpetually destroying the effect of virtuous feeling and just observation, leaving his readers with a disposition to laugh, where they might otherwise learn and admire. < I have been asked, why, after pointing out by name the persons who seemed to me most qualified for reforming our penal Code, I declined mentioning such ecclesiastics as might with propriety be employed in preparing for the use of the churches a grave and impressive discourse on the authority of human laws ; and as other men may ask the same ques- tion which my friend did, I have determined, after some deliberation, to insert the substance of my answer in this place. ' If the public service of our church should ever be di- rectly employed in giving effect to the sanctions of our penal code, the office of drawing up such a discourse as I have ventured to recommend would, I suppose, be assigned to more than one person. My ecclesiastical superiors will, I am sure, make a wise choice. But they will hardly con- demn me for saying, that the best sense expressed in the best language may be expected from the Bishops of Landarf, Lincoln, s*. David's, Cloyne, and Norwich, the Dean of Christ Church, and the President of Magdalen College, Oxford. I mean not to throw the slightest reproach upon other dignitaries whom I have not mentioned. But I should imagine that few of my enlightened contemporaries hold an opinion different from my own, upon the masculine understanding of a Watson, the sound judgment of a Tom lin, the extensive erudition of a Burgess, the exquisite taste and good nature of a Bennet, the calm and enlightened benevolence of a Bathurst, the various and valuable attain ments of a Cyril Jackson, or the learning, wisdom, integrity, and piety of a Martin Ruth.' — (pp. 524 — 525.) In the name of common modesty, what coidd it have signified whether this author had given a list of eccle siasticts whom he thought qualified to preach about human laws ? what is his opinion worth '{ who called for it ? who wanted it ? how many millions wili be in- fluenced by it ? — and who, oh gracious Heaven ! who are a Burgess, — a Tomlin, — a Dennet, — a Cyril Jack- son,— a Martin Routh ? — A Tom, — a Jack, — a Harry, — a Peter ' All good men enough in their generation doubtless they are. But what have they done for the broad a ? what has any one of them perpetrated, which will make him be remembered, out of the sphere of his private virtues, six months after his decease ? Surely, scholars and gentlemen can drink tea with each other, and eat bread and butter, without all this laudatory crackling. Philopatris has employed a great deal of time upon the subject of, capital punishments, and has evinced a great deal of very laudable tenderness and humanity in discussing it. We are scarcely,, however, converts to that system which woidd totally abolish the punish- ment of death. That it is much too frequently inflict- ed in this country, we readily admit ; but we suspect it will be always necessary to reserve it for the most per- nicious crimes. Death is the most terrible punishment to the common people, and therefore the most preven- tive. It does not perpetually dutrage the feelings of those who are innocent, and iikely to remain innocent, as would be the case from the spectacle of convict.-, working in the highroads and public places. Death is the most irrevocable punishment, which is in some sense a good ; for, however necessary it might be to inflict labour and punishment for life, it would never be done. Kings and legislatures would take pity after a great lapse of years; the punishment Avould be remit- ted, and its preventive efficacy, therefore, destroyed. We agree with Philopatris, that the executions should be more solemn ; but still the English are not of a very dramatic turn, and the thing must not be got up too finely. Philopatris, and Mr. Jeremy Benthan before him, lay a vast stress upon the promulgation of laws, and treat the inattention of the English government to this point as a serious evil. It may be so — but we do not happen to remember any man punished for an of- RIGHT HON. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 901 fence which he did not know to be an offence ; though he might not know exactly the degree in which it was punishable. Who are to read the laws to the people ? who would listen to them if they were read ? who would comprehend them it they listened ? In a science like law there must be technical phrases known ordy to professional men : business could not be carried on without them : and of what avail would it be to repeat such phrases to the people ? Again, what laws are to be repeated, and in what places ? Is a law respecting the number of threads on the shuttle of a Spitalfields weaver to be read to the corn-growers of the Isle of Thanet ? If not, who is to make the selection ! If the law cannot be comprehended by listening to the viva voce repetition, is the reader to explain it, and are there to be law lectures all over the kingdom ? The fact is, that the evil docs not exist. Those who are not likely to commit the offence soon scent out the newly devised punishments, and have been long tho- roughly acquainted with the old ones. Of the nice applications of the law they are indeed ignorant ; but they purchase the requisite skill of some man whose business it is to acquire it ; and so they get into less mischief by trusting to others than they would do if they pretended to inform themselves. The people, it is true, are ignorant of the laws ; but they are ignorant only of the laws that do not concern them. A poacher knows nothing of the penalties to which he exposes himself by stealing ten thousand pounds from the pub lie. Commissioners of public boards are unacquainted with all the decretals of our ancestors respecting the wiring of hares ; but the one pockets his extra per ccntage, and the other his leveret, with a perfect knowledge of the laws — the particular laws which it is his business to elude. Philopatris will excuse us for differing from him upon a subject where he seems to entertain such strong opinions. We have a real res- pect for all his opinions : — no man could form them who had not a good heart and a sound understanding. If we have been severe upon his style of writing, it is because we know his weight in the commonwealth : and we wish that the many young persons who justly admire and imitate him should be turned to the diffi- cult task of imitating his many excellencies, rather than the useless and easy one of copying his few de- fects. OBSERVATIONS ON THE HISTORICAL WORK OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES JAMES FOX. (Edinburgh Review, 1809.) Observations on the Historical Work of the Right Honourable Charles James Fox. By the Right Honourable George Rose : pp. 215. With a Narrative of the Events which oc- curred in the Enterprise of the Earl of Argyle in 1685. By Sir Patrick Hume. London, 1809. This is an extraordinary performance in itself; — but the reasons assigned for its publication are still more extraordinary. A person of Mr. Rose's consequence, incessantly occupied, as he assures us, l with official duties which take equally,' according to his elegant expression, l from the disembarrassment of the mind and the leisure of time,' thinks it absolutely necessary to explain to his country the motives which have led him to do so idle a thing as to write a book. He would not have it supposed, however, that he could be tempted to so questionable an act by any light or ordi- dinary consideration. Mr. Fox and other literary loungers may write from a love of fame, or a relish for literature ; but the official labours of Mr. Rose can only be suspended by higher calls. All his former publica- tions, he informs us, originated in ' a sense of public duty ;' and the present, is ' an impulse of private friend- ship.' An ordinary reader may, perhaps, find some difficulty in comprehending how Mr. Rose could be ' impelled by private friendship' to publish a heavy quarto of political observations on Mr. Fox's history : — and for our own part, we must confess, that after the most diligent perusal of his long explanation, we do not in the least comprehend it yet. The explana- tion, however, which is very curious, it is our duty to lay before our readers. Mr. Rose was much patronized by the late Earl of Marchmont, who left him his family papers, with an injunction to make use of them, ' if it should ever be- come necessary.' Among these papers was a narra- tive by Sir Patrick Hume, the earl's grandfather, of the occurrences which befell him and his associates in the unfortunate expedition undertaken by the Earl of Argyle in 1685. Mr. Fox, in detailing a history of that expedition has passed a censure, as Mr. Rose thinks, on the character of Sir Patrick; and to obvi- ate the effects of that censure, he now finds it f neces- sary' to publish this volume. All this sounds very chivalrous and affectionate ; but we have three little remarks to make. In the first place, Mr. Fox passes no censure on Sir Patrick Hume. In the second place, this publication does by no means obviate the censure of which Mr. Rose complains. And, thirdly, it is utterly absurd, to ascribe Mr. Rose's part of the volume, in which Sir Patrick Hume is scarcely ever mentioned, to any anxiety about his re- putation. In the first place, it is quite certain that Mr. Fox passes no censure on Sir Patrick Hume. On the con- trary he says of him, that ' he had early distinguished himself in the cause of liberty ;' and afterwards rates him so very highly as to think it a sufficient reason for construing some doubtful points in Sir John Cochrane's conduct favourably, that he had always acted in con- junction with Sir Patrick Hume, who is proved by the subsequent events, and, indeed, by the whole tenour of his life and conduct, to have been uniformly sincere and zealous in the cause of his country. ,' Such is the delibe- rate and unequivocal testimony which Mr. Fox has borne to the character of this gentleman ; and such the historian, whose unjust censures have compelled the Right Honourable George Rose to indite 250 quarto pages, out of pure regard to the injured memory of this ancestor of his deceased patron. Such is Mr. Fox's opinion, then, of Sir Patrick Hume ; and the only opinion he any where gives of his character. With regard to his conduct, he observes, indeed, in one place, that he and the other gentlemen engaged in the enterprise appear to have paid too little deference to the opinion of their noble leader ; and narrates, in another that, at the breaking up of their little army, they did not even stay to reason with him, but crossed the Clyde with such as would follow them. Now, Sir Patrick's own narrative, so far from contra- dicting either of these statements, confirms them both in the most remarkable manner. There is scarcely a page of it that does not show the jealous and control- ling spirit which was exercised towards their leader ; and with regard to the concluding scene, Sir Patrick's own account makes infinitely more strongly against himself and Sir John Cochrane, than the general state- ment of Mr. Fox. So far from staying to argue with their general before parting with him, it appears that Sir Patrick did not so much as see him ; and that Cochrane, at whose suggestion he deserted him, had in a manner ordered that unfortunate nobleman to leave their company. The material words of the narrative are these : — ' On coming down to Kilpatrick, I met Sir John (Cochrane,) with others accompanicing him ; who takeing mee by the hand, turned mee, saying, My heart, goe you with me ? Whither goe you, said I? Over Clide by boate, said he. — I: Wher is Ar- gyle? I must see him. — He: He is gone away to his owne countrey, you cannot see him. — I : How comes this change of resolution, and that wee went not together to Glasgow? — He • It is no time to answer questions, but I shall satisfy you after- ward. To the boates wee came, filled 2, and rowed over,' &c. — • An honest gentleman who was present ' told mee afterward the manner of his parting with the Erie. Argyle being in the roome with Sir John, the gentleman coming in, found confu- sion in the Erie's countenance and speach. In end lie said, Sir John, I pray advise mee what shall I doe ; shall I goe over Clide with you, or shall I goe to my owne countrey ? Sir John answered, My Lord, I have told you my opinion ; you have some Highlanders here about you ; it is best you goe to your owne countrey with them, for it is to no purpose for you to go over Clide. My lord, faire you well. Then call'd the gentleman, Come away, Sir ; who followed him when I met with him.'' — Sir P. Hume's Narrative, pp. 63, 64. Such are all the censures which Mr. Fox passes upon this departed worthy ; and cuch the contradiction which Mr. Rose now thinks it necessary to exhibit. It WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. is very true that Mr. Fox, in the course of his narrative, is under the necessity of mentioning, on the credit of all the historians who have treated of the subject, that Argyle, after his capture, did express himself in terms of strong disapprobation both of Sir Patrick Hume and of Sir John Cochrane ; and said, that their ignorance and misconduct were, though not designedly, the chief cause of his failure. Mr. Fox neither adopts nor re- jects this sentiment. He gives his own opinion, as we have already seen, in terms of the highest encomium, on the character of Sir Patrick Hume, and merely re- peats the expressions of Argyle as he found them in Woodrow and other historians, and as he was under the necessity of repeating them, if he was to give any account of the last words of that unfortunate noble- man. It is this censure of Argyle, then, perhaps, and not any censure of Mr. Fox, that Mr. Rose intended to obviate by the publication before us. But, upon this supposition, how did the appearance of Mr. Fox's book constitute that necessity which compelled the tender conscience of Lord Marchmont's executor to give to the world this long-lost justification of his ancestor ? The censure did not appear for the first time in Mr. Fox's book. It was repeated during Sir Patrick's own life, in all the papers of the time, and in all the historians since. Sir Patrick lived nearly forty good years after this accusation of Argyle was made public ; and thirty-six of those years in great credit, honour, and publicity. If he had thought that the existence of such an accusation constituted a kind of moral necessity for the publication of his narrative, it is evident that he would himself have published it ; and if it was not necessary then, while he was alive, to suffer by the censure of his leader, or to profit by its refutation, it is not easy to understand how it should be necessary now, when 130 years have elapsed from the date of it, and the bones of its author have reposed for nearly a century in their peaceful and honoured monument. That the narrative never was published before, though the censure, to which it is supposed to be an antidote, had been published for more than a century, is a pretty satisfactory proof that those who were most interested and best qualified to judge, either did not consider the censure as very deadly, or the anti- dote as very effectual. We are very well contented to leave it doubtful which of these was the case ; and we are convinced that all the readers of Mr. Rose's book will agree that it is still very doubtful. Sir Pat- rick, in his narrative, no doubt, says that Argyle was extremely arrogant, self-willed, and obstinate ; but it is equally certain, that the earl said to him that he was jealous, disobedient, and untractable. Both were men of honour and veracity ; and, we doubt not, be- lieved what they said. It is even possible that both may have said truly; but, at this distance of time, and with no new evidence but the averment of one of the parties, it would be altogether ridiculous to pre- tend to decide which may have come nearest to an im- partial statement. Before the publication of the pre- sent narrative, it is plain from Woodrow, Burnet, and other writers, that considerable blame was generally laid on Argyle for his peremptoriness and obstinacy ; and, now that the narrative is published, it is still more apparent than ever that he had some ground for the charges he made against his officers. The whole tenour of it shews that they were constantly in the ha- bit of checking and thwarting him ; and we have al- ready seen that it gives a very lame and unsatisfacto- ry account of their strange desertion of him, when their fortunes appeared to be desperate. It is perfectly plain, therefore, we conceive, that the publication of Mr. Fox's book constituted nei- ther a necessity nor an intelligible inducement for the publication of this narrative ; and that the nar- rative, now that it is published, has no tendency to remove any slight shade of censure that histo- ry may have thrown over the temper or prudence of Sir Patrick Hume. But, even if all this had been otherwise— if Mr. Fox had, for the first time, in- sinuated a censure on this defunct whig, and if the narrative had contained the most complete refutation of such a censure, — this might, indeed, have account- ed for the publication of Sir Patrick's narrative ; but it could not have accounted at all for the publication of Mr. Rose's book — the only thing to be accounted for. The narrative is given as an appendix of 65 pag- es to a volume of upwards of 300. In publishing the narrative, Mr. Rose did not assume the character of 1 an author,' and was not called upon, by the responsi- bility of that character, to explain to the world his reasons for ' submitting himself to their judgement.' It is only for his book, then, exclusive of the narra- tive, that Mr. Rose can be understood to be offering any apology ; and the apology he offers is, that it sprung from the impulse of private friendship. When the matter is looked into, however, it turns out, that though private friendship may, by a great stretch, be supposed to have dictated the publication of the ap- pendix, it can by no possibility account, or help to ac count, for the composition of the book. Nay, the ten- dency and tenour of the book are such as this ardent and romantic friendship must necessarily condemn. It contains nothing whatever in praise or in defence of Sir Patrick Hume ; but it contains a very keen, and not a very candid, attack upon his party and his prin- ciples. Professing to be published from anxiety to vindicate and exalt the memory of an insurgent revo- lution whig, it consists almost entirely of an attempt to depreciate whig principles, and openly to decry and vilify such of Mr. Fox's opinions as Sir Patrick Hume constantly exemplified in his actions. There never was an effect, we believe, imputed to so impro- bable a cause. Finally, we may ask, if Mr. Rose's view, in this publication, was merely to vindicate the memory of Sir Patrick Hume, why he did not put into Mr. Fox's hands the information which would have rendered all vindication unnecessary ? It was known to all the world, for several years, that Mr. Fox was engaged in the history of that period ; and if Mr. Rose really thought that the papers in his custody gave a differ- ent view of Sir Patrick's conduct from that exhibited in the printed authorities, was it not his duty to put Mr. Fox upon his guard against being misled by them, and to communicate to him those invaluable docu- ments to which he could have access in no other way ? Did he doubt that Mr. Fox would have candour to state the truth, or that he would have stated with pleasure any thing that could exalt the character of a revolution whig? Did he imagine that any statement of his could ever obtain equal notoriety and effect with a statement in Mr. Fox's history ? Or did he poorly withhold this information, that he might detract from the value of that history, and have to boast to the pub- lic that there was one point upon which he was better informed than that illustrious statesman? As to the preposterous apology which seems to be hinted at in the book itself, viz., that it was Mr. Fox's business to have asked for these papers, and not Mr. Rose'-, to have offered them, we shall only observe, that it stands on a point of etiquette, which would scarcely be permitted to govern the civilities of tradesmen's wives ; and that it seems not a little unreasonable to lay Mr. Fox under the necessity of asking for papers, the very existence of which he could have no reason to expect. This Narrative of Sir Patrick Hume has now lain in the archives of his family for 130 years, unknown and unsuspected to all but its immediate Eroprietor ; and, distinguished as Sir Patrick was in is day in Scotland, it certainly does not imply any extraordinary stupidity in Mr. Fox, not to know, by intuition, that there were papers of his existence which might afford him some light on the subject of his history. We may appear to have dwelt too long on these preliminary considerations, since the intrinsic value of Mr. Rose's observations certainly will not be effect- ed by the truth or the fallacy of the motives he has assigned for publishing them. It is impossible, how- ever, not to see that, when a writer assigns a false motive for his coming forward, he is commonly con- scious that the real one is discreditable ; and that to ex- pose the hollo wness of such a pretence, is to lay the foundation of a wholesome distrust of his general fair- ness and temper. Any body certainly had a right to» publish remarks on Mr. Fox's work — and nobody a RIGHT HON. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 203 better right than Mr. Rose ; and if he had stated open- ly, that all the habits and connections of his life had led him to wish to see that work discredited, no one would have been entitled to complain of his exertions in the cause. When he chooses to disguise this mo- tive, however, and to assign another which does not at all account for the phenomenon, we are so far from forgetting the existence of the other, that we are in- ternally convinced of its being much stronger than we should otherwise have suspected ; and that it is only dissembled, because it exists in a degree that could not have been decently avowed. For the same reason, therefore, of enabling our readers more distinctly to ap])reciate the intellect and temper of this right hon- ourable author, we must say a word or two more of his Introduction, before proceeding to the substance of his remarks. Besides the edifying history of his motive for wri- ting, we are favoured, in that singular piece, with a number of his opinions upon points no way connected with Mr. Fox or his history ; and with a copious ac- count of his labours and studies in all kinds of juridic- al and constitutional learning In order to confirm an opinion that a minute knowledge of our ancient history is not necessary to understand our actual constitution, he takes an unintelligible survey of the progress of our government, from the days of King Alfred, — and quotes Lord Coke, Plowden, Doomsday Book, Lord Ellesmere, Rymer's Fcedera, Dugdale's Origines, the Rolls of Parliament, Whitelock, and Abbot's Records ; but, above all, : a report which I made several years ago on the state of the records in my custody.' He then goes on, in the most obliging manner, to inform his readers that l Verto's Account of the Revolutions of Rome has been found very useful by persons who have read the Roman History ; but the best model that I have met with for such a work as appears to me to be much wanted, is a short History of Poland, which I translated nearly forty years ago, but did not publish ; the manuscript of which his majesty at the time did me the honour to accept ; and it probably is still in his majesty's library.' — Introduction, pp. xxiv. xxv. Truly all this is very interesting, and very much to the purpose : — but scarcely more so than eight or nine pages that follow, containing a long account of the conversations which Lord Marchmont had with Lord Boliugbroke, about the politics of Queen Anne's min- isters, and which Mr. Rose now gives to the world from his recollection of various conversations between himself and Lord Marchmont. He tells us, moreover, that accustomed as he has been to official accuracy in statement,' he had naturally a quick eye for mistakes in fact or in deduction ; — that < having Jong enjoyed the confidence and affectionate friendship of Mr. Pitt,' he has been more scrupulous than he would otherwise have been in ascertaining the grounds of his animad- versions on the work of his great rival ; — and that, notwithstanding all this anxiety, and the want of l dis- embarrassment of mind' and < leisure of time,' he has compiled this volume in about as many weeks as Mr. Fox took years to the work on which it comments ! For the Observations themselves, we must say that we have perused them with considerable pleasure — not certainly from any extraordinary gratification which we derived from the justness of the sentiments, or the elegance of the style, but from a certain agree- able surprise which we experienced on finding how few parts of Mr. Fox's doctrine were considered as vulnerable, even by Mr. Rose ; and in how large a pro- portion of his freest and strongest observations that jealous observer has expressed his most cordial con- currence. The Right Honourable George Rose, we rather believe, is commonly considered as one of the least whiggish or democratical of all the public char- acters who have lived in our times ; and he has him- self acknowledged, that a long habit of political oppo- sition to Mr. Fox had perhaps given him a stronger bias against his favourite doctrines than he might otherwise have entertained. It was, therefore, no slight consolation to us to find that the true principles of English liberty had made so great a progress in the Opinions of all men in upper life, as to extort such an ample admission of them, even from a person of Mr. Rose's habits and connections. As we fear, however, that the same justness and liberality of thinking axe by no means general among the more obscure retain- ers of party throughout the country, we think it may not be without its use to quote a few of the passages to which we have alluded, just to let the vulgar tories in the provinces see how much of their favourite doc- trines has been abjured by their more enlightened chief and leaders in the seat of government. In the first place , there are all the passages (which it would be useless and tedious to recite) in which the patriotism and public virtue of Sir P. Hume are held up to the admiration of posterity. Now, Sir P. Hume, that true and sincere lover of his country, whose ' tal- ents and virtues his sovereign acknowledged and re- warded,' and ' whose honours have been attended by the suffrage of his country and the approbation of good men,' was, even in the reign of Charles, concerned in designs analogous to those of Russell and Sydney ; — and, very soon after the accession of James, and. (as Mr. Rose thinks) before, that monarch had done any thing in the least degree blamable, rose up openly in arms, and endeavoured to stir up the people to over- throw the existing government. Even Mr. Fox hesi- tates as to the wisdom and the virtue of those engaged in such enterprises ; — and yet Mr. Rose, professing to see danger in that writer's excessive zeal for liberty, writes a book to extol the patriotism of a premature insurgent. After this, we need not quote our author's warm pan- egyrics on the Revolution — ' that glorious event to which the measures of James necessarily led,' — or on the character of Lord Sommers, l whose wisdom, tal- ents, political courage and virtue, would alone have been sufficient to insure the success of that measure.' It may surprise some of his political admirers a little more, however, to find him professing that he ' concurs with Mr. Fox as to the expediency of the bill of exclu- sion,' (that boldest and most decided of all whig mea- sures); and thinks l that the events which took place in the next reign afford a strong justification of the conduct of the promoters of that measure.' When his tory friends have digested that sentiment, they may look at his patriotic invectives against the degrading connection of the two last of the Stuart princes with the court of France ; and the ' scandalous profligacy by which Charles and his successor betrayed the best in- terests of their country for miserable stipends. There is something very edifying, indeed, though we should fear a little alarming to courtly tempers, in the warmth with which our author winds up his diatribe on this interesting subject. 'Every one,' he observes, l who carries on a clandestine correspondence with a foreign power, in matters touching the interests ot Great Britain, is prima facie guilty of a great moral, as well as political, crime. If a subject, he is a traitor to his king and his country ; and if a monarch he is a traitor to the crown which he wears, and to the empire which he governs. There may, by possibility, be circum- stances to extenuate the former ; there can be none to lessen our detestation of the latter.' — (pp. 149, 150.) Conformably to these sentiments, Mr. Rose express- es his concurrence with all that Mr. Fox says of the arbitrary and oppressive measures which distinguish- ed the latter part of Charles's reign ; — declares that ' he has manifested great temperance and forbearance in the character which he gives of Jefferies ; — and un,~ derstated the enormity of the cruel and detestable pro- ceedings of the Scottish government, in its unheard of acts of power, and the miseries and persecutions which it inflicted ; — adrnjts that Mr. Fox's work treat- ed of a period l in which the tyranny of the sovereign at home was not redeemed by any glory or success abroad; — and speaks of the Revolution as the era ' when the full measure of the monarch's tyrannical usurpations made resistance a duty paramount to every consideration of personal or public danger.' It is scarcely possible, we conceive, to read these, and many other passages whjch might be quoted from the work before us, without taking the author for a whig ; and it certainly is not easy to comprehend how the writer of them could quarrel with any thing in Mr. Fox's history, for want of deference and vener- 204 * WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. ation for the monarchial part of our constitution. To say the truth, we have not always been able to satis- fy ourselves of the worthy author's consistency; and holding, as we are inclined to do, that his natural and genuine sentiments are liberal and manly, we can on- ly account for the narrowness and unfairness of some of his remarks, by supposing them to originate from the habits of his practical politics, and of that long course of opposition, in which he learned to consider it a duty to his party to discredit every thing that came from the advocate of the people. We shall now say a word or two on the remarks themselves, which, as we have already noticed, will be found to be infi- nitely fewer, and more insignificant, than any one, looking merely at the bulk of the volume, could pos- sibly have conjectured. The first, of any sort of importance, is made on those passages in which Mr. Fox calls the execution of the king ' a far less violent measure than that of Lord Strafford ;' and says, l that there was something in the splendour and magnanimity of the act, which has served to raise the character of the nation in the opinion of Europe in general.' Mr. Rose takes great offence at both these remarks ; and says, that the constitution itself was violated by the execution of the king, while the case of Lord Strafford was but a pri- vate injury. We are afraid Mr. Rose does not per- fectly understand Mr. Fox, — otherwise it would be difficult not to agree with him. The grossness of Lord Strafford's case consisted in this, that a bill of attainder was brought in, after a regular proceeding by impeachment had been tried against him. He was substantially acquitted, by the most unexceptionable process known in our law, before the bill of attainder came to declare him guilty, and to punish him. There was here, therefore, a most flagrant violation of all law and justice, and a precedent for endless abuses and oppressions. In the case of the king, on the other hand, there could be no violation of settled rules or practice; because the case itself was necessarily out of the purview of every rule, and could be drawn into no precedent. The constitution, no doubt, w r as neceosarily destroyed or suspended by the trial ; but Mr Rose appears to forget that it had been destroyed or suspended before, by the war, or by the acts of the king which brought on the war. If it was lawful to fight against the king, it must have been lawful to take him prisoner : after he was a prisoner, it was both lawful and necessary to consider what should be done with him; and every deliberation of this sprt had all the assumption, and none of the fairness of a trial. Yet Mr. Rose has himself told us, that ' there are cases in which resistance becomes a paramount duty ;' and probably is not prepared to say, that it was more violent and criminal to drive King James from the throne in 1688, than to wrest all law and jus- tice to take the life of Lord Strafford in 1641. Yet the constitution was as much violated by the forfeit- ure of the one sovereign, as by the trial and execution of the other. It was impossible that the trial of King Charles might have terminated in a sentence of mere deprivation ; and if James had fought against his peo- ple, and been conquered, he might have been tried and executed. The constitution was gone for the time, in both cases, as soon as force was mutually ap- pealed to ; and the violence that followed thereafter, to the person of the monarch, can receive no aggrava- tion from any view of that nature. With regard, again, to the loyal horror which- Mr. Rose expresses, when Mr. Fox speaks of the splen- dour and magnanimity of the proceedings against the king, it is probable that this zealous observer was not aware, that his favourite l prerogative writer,' Mr. Hume, had used the same, or still loftier expressions, in relation to the same event. Some of the words of that loyal and unsuspected historian are as follows : — * the pomp, the dignity, the ceremony of this transac- tion, correspond to the greatest conceptions that are suggested in the annals of human kind ; — the dele- gates of a great people sitting in judgment upon their supreme magistrate, and trying him for his misman- agement and breach of trust.'* Cordially as we agree * Hume's Historj', vol. vii. p 141. with Mr. Fox in the unprofitable severity of this ex- ample, it is impossible, we conceive, for any one to consider the great, grave, and solemn movement o£ the nation that led to it, or the stem and dispassion- ate temper in which it was conducted, without feeling that proud contrast between this execution and that of all other deposed sovereigns in history, — which led Mr. Fox, in common with Mr. Hume, and every other writer on the subject, to make use of the expressions which have been alluded to. When Mr. Rose, in the close of his remarks upon this subject, permits himself to insinuate, that if Mr. Fox thought such high praise due to the publicity, &c. of King Charles's trial, he must have felt unbounded admiration at that of Lewis XVI., he has laid himself open to a charge of such vulgar and uncandid unfair- ness, as was not to have been at all expected from a person of his rank and description. If Lewis XVI. had been openly in arms against his people — if the Convention had required no other victim — and had settled into a regular government as soon as he was removed — there might have been more room for a parallel — to which, as the fact actually stands, every Briton must listen with indignation. Lewis XVI. was wantonly sacrificed to the rage of an insane and blood- thirsty faction, and tossed to the executioner among the common supplies for the guillotine. The publicity and parade of his trial were assumed from no love of justice, or sense of dignity; but from a low principle of profligate and clamorous defiance to every thing that had become displeasing : and ridiculous and in- credible as it would appear of any other nation, we have not the least doubt that a certain childish emu- lation of the avenging liberty of the English had its share in producing this paltry copy of our grand and original daring. The insane coxcombs who blew out their brains, after a piece of tawdry declamation, in some of the provincial assemblies^ were about as like Cato or Hannibal, as the trial and execution of Lewis was like the condemnation of King Charles. Our re- gicides were serious and original at least, in the bold, bad deeds which they committed. The regicides of France were poor theatrical imitators — intoxicated with blood and with power, and incapable even of forming a sober estimate of the guilt or the conse- quences of their actions. Before leaving this subject we must remind our readers that Mr. Fox unequivo- cally condemns the execution of the king ; and spends some time in showing that it was excusable neither on the ground of present expediency nor future warn- ing. After he had finished that statement, he pro- ceeds to say. that notwithstanding what the more reasonable part of mankind may think, it is to be doubted, whether the proceeding has not served to raise the national character in the eyes of foreigners, &c. ; and then goes on to refer to the conversations he had himself witnessed on that subject abroad. A man must be a very zealous royalist, indeed, to disbelieve or be offended with this. Mr. Rose's next observation is in favour of General Monk ; upon whom he is of opinion that Mr. Fox has been by far too severe — at the same time that he fails utterly in obviating any of the grounds upon which that severity is justified. Monk was not responsible alone indeed, for restoring the king, without taking any security for the people ; but, as wielding the whole power of the army, by which that restoration was effected, he is certainly chiefly responsible for that most criminal omission. As to his indifference to the fate of his companions in arms, Mr. Rose does, indeed, quote the testimony of his chaplain, who wrote a complimentary life of his patron, to prove that, on the trial of the regicides, be behaved with great mo- deration. We certainly do not rate this testimony very highly ; and do think it far more than compen- sated by that of Mrs. Hutchinson, who, in the life of her husband, says, that on the first proceedings against the regicides in the House of Commons, ' Monk sate still, and had not one word to interpose for any man, but was as forward to set vengeance on foot as any one.'"' And a little afterwards she adds, apparently from hei own personal knowledge and observation, that l be- * Life of Colonel Hutchinson, p. 372. RIGHT HON. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 205 fore the prisouers were brought to the Tower, Monk and his wife came one evening to the garden, and caused them to be brought down, only to stare at them — which was such a behaviour for that man, who had betrayed so many of those that had honoured and trusted him, &c, as no story can parallel the inhu- manity of. ; * With regard again to Mr. Fox's charge of Monk's tamely acquiescing in the insults so meanly put on the illustrious corpse of his old commander Blake, it is perfectly evident, even from the authorities referred to by Mr. Rose, that Blake's body was dug up by the king's order, among others, and removed out of the hallowed precincts of Westminster, to be reinlerred with twenty more, in one pit at St. Margaret's. But the chief charge is, that on the trial of Argyle, Monk spontaneously sent down some confidential let- ters, which turned the scale of evidence against that unfortunate nobleman. This statement, to which Mr. Fox is most absurdly blamed forgiving credit, is made on the authority of the three historians who lived nearest to the date of the transaction, and who all re- port it as quite certain and notorious. These histo- rians are Burnet, Baillie, and Cunningham ; nor are they contradicted by one writer on the subject, ex- cept Dr. Campbell, who, at a period comparatively recent, and without pretending to have discovered any new document on the subject, is pleased to disbelieve them upon certain hypothetical and argumentative reasons of his own. These reasons Mr. Laing has examined and most satisfactorily obviated in his his- tory ; and Mr. Rose has exerted incredible industry to defend. The Scottish records for that period have perished ; and for this reason, and because a collec- tion of pamphlets and newspapers of that age, in Mr. Rome's possession, make no mention of the circum- stance, he thinks fit to discredit it altogether. If this kind of scepticism were to be indulged, there would be an end of all reliance on history. In this particu- lar case, both Bumet and Baillie speak quite positive- ly, from the information of cotemporaries ; and state a circumstance that would very well account for the silence of the formal accounts of the trial, if any such had heen preserved, viz., that Monk's letters were not produced till after the evidence was finished on both sides, and the debate begun on the result ; — an irregularity, by the way, by much too gross to have been charged against a public proceeding without any foundation. Mr. Rose's next observation is directed rather against Judge Blackstone than against Mr. Fox ; and is meant to show, that this learned person was guilty of great innaccuracy in representing the year 1679 as the era of good laws and bad government. It is quite impossible to follow him through the dull details and leeble disputations by which he labours to make it appear that our laws were not very good in 1679, and that they, as well as the administration of them, were much mended after the Revolution. Mr. Fox's, or rather Blackstone's remark is too obviously and strik- ingly true in substance, to admit of any argument or illustration.f The next charge against Mr. Fox is for saying, that * Life of Colonel Hutchinson, p. 378. f Mr. Rose talks a great deal, and very justly, about the advantages of the judges not being removable at pleasure ; and, with a great air of erudition, informs us, that after 6th Charles, all the commissioners were made quamdiu nobis pla- cuerit. Mr. Rose's researches, we fear, do not often go beyond the records in his custody. If he had looked into Rushworth's Collection, he would have found, that, in 1641, King Charles agreed to make the commission, quamdiu se bene gesserint ; and that some of those illegally removed in the following reign, though not officiating in court, still retained certain functions in consequence of that appointment. The follow- ing is the passage, at p. 1265, vol. iii. of Rushworth : ' After the passing of these votes (16th December, 1640) against the judges, and transmitting them to the House of Peers, and their concurring with the House of Commons therein, an address was made to the king shortly after, that his majesty, for the future, would not make any judge by patent during pleasure ; but that they may hold their places hereafter, quandiu se bene gesserint ; and his majesty did really grant the same. And in bis speech to both houses of Parliament, at the time of giving if Charles II.'s ministers betrayed him, he betrayed them in return ; keeping, from some of them at least, the secret of what he was pleased to call his religion, and the state of his connections with France. After the furious attack which Mr. Rose has made in ano- ther place upon this prince and his French connec- tions, it is rather surprising to see with what zeal he undertakes his defence against this very venial sort of treachery, of concealing his shame from some of his more respectable ministers. The attempt, however, is at least as unsuccessful as it is unaccountable. Mr. Fox says only, that some of the ministers were not trusted with the secret ; and both Dalrymplc and Macpherson say, that none but the Catholic counsel- lors were admitted to this confidence. Mr. Rose mut- ters, that there is no evidence of this ; and himself produces an abstract of the secret treaty between Lewis and Charles, of May, 1670, to which the sub- scriptions of four Catholic ministers of the latter are affixed ! Mr. Fox is next taxed with great negligence for say- ing, that he does not know what proof there is of Clarendon's being privy to Charles receiving money from France ; and very long quotations are inserted from the correspondence printed by Dalrymple and Macpherson, — which do not prove Clarendon's know- ledge of any money being received, though they do seem to establish, that he must have known of its be- ing stipulated for. After this comes Mr. Rose's grand attack ; in which he charges the historian with his whole heavy artil- lery of argument and quotation, and makes a vigorous effort to drive him from the position, that the early and primary object of James's reign was not to esta- blish popery in this country, but in the first place to render himself absolute : and that, for a considerable time, he does not appear to have aimed at any thing more than a complete toleration for his own religion. The grounds upon which this opinion is maintained by Mr. Fox are certainly very probable. There is, in the first place, his zeal for the Church of England du- ring his brother's life, and the violent oppressions by which he enforced a Protestant test in Scotland ; se- condly, the fact of his carrying on the government and the persecution of nonconformists by Protestant min- isters ; and, thirdly, his addresses to his Parliament, and the tenour of much of his correspondence with Lewis. In opposition to this, Mr. Rose quotes an in- finite variety of passages from Barillon's correspon- dence, to show in general the unfeigned zeal of this unfortunate prince for his religion, and his constant desire to glorify and advance it. Now, it is perfectly obvious, in the first place, that Mr. Fox never intend- ed to dispute James's zeal for popery ; and, in the se- cond place, it is very remarkable, that in the first seven passages quoted by Mr. Rose, nothing more is said to be in the king's contemplation than the com- plete toleration of that religion, f The free exercise of the Catholic religion in their own houses,' — the abolition of the penal laws against Catholics, — l the free exercise of that religion,' &c. &c. are the only objects to which the zeal of the king is said to be di- rected ; and it is not till after the suppression of Mon mouth's rebellion, that these phrases are exchanged for < a resolution to establish the Catholic religion.' or his royal assent to two bills, one to take away the High Com- mission Court, and the other the Court of Star-Chamber, and regulating the power of the council table, he hath this passage : "If you consider what I have done this Parliament, discon- tents will not sit in your hearts ; for I hope you remember that I have granted that the judges shall hereafter hold their places quamdiu se bene gesserint." And likewise, his gracious majesty King Charles the Second observed the same rule and method in granting patents to judges, quamdiu se bene gesse- rint ; as appears upon record in the rolls : viz., to Sergeant Slide to be Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir Orlan- do Bridgeman to be Lord Chief Baron, and afterwards to be Lord Chief Justice of Common Pleas; to Sir Robert Foster, and others. Mr. Sergeant Archer, now living, notwithstanding his removal, still enjoys his patent, being quamdiu se bene ges- serint ; and receives a share in the profits of the court, as to fees and other proceedings, by virtue of his said patent : and his name is used in those fines, &c, aa a judge of that court.' 906 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. ' to get that religion established ; ; though it would be fair, perhaps, to interpret some even of these phrases with reference to those which precede them in the correspondence ; especially as, in a letter from Lewis to Barillon, so late as 20th August, 1685, he merely urges the great expediency of James establishing ' the free exercise' of that religion. After all, in reality, there is not much substantial difference as to this point between the historian and his observer. Mr. Fox admits most explicitly, that James was zealous in the cause of popery ; and that after Monmouth's execution, he made attempts equal- ly violent and undisguised to restore it. Mr. Rose, on the other hand, admits that he was exceedingly desirous to render himself absolute ; and that one ground of his attachment to popery probably was, its natural affinity with an arbitrary government. Upon which of these two objects he set the chief value, and which of them he wished to make subservient to the other, it is not perhaps now very easy to determine. In addition to the authorities referred to by Mr. Fox, however, there are many more which tend directly to show that one great ground of his antipathy to the reformed religion was, his conviction that it led to rebellion and republicanism. There are very many passages in Barillon to this effect ; and, indeed, the burden of all Lewis's letters is to convince James that f the existence of monarchy' in England depended on the protection of the Catholics. Barillon says (Fox App. p. 125), that 'the king often declares publicly, that all Calvinists are naturally enemies to royalty, and above all, to royalty in England.' And Burnet observes (vol. I. p. 73), that the king told him, l that among other prejudices he had against the Protestant religion, this was one, that his brother and himself being in many companies in Paris incognito (during the Commonwealth) , where there were Protestants, he found they were all alienated from them, and great ad- mirers of Cromwell ; so he believed they were all rebels in their hearts.'' It will not be forgotten either, that in his first address to the council, on his accession, he made use of those memorable words : — • I know the principles of the Church of England are for monarchy, and therefore I shall always take care to defend and support it.' While he retained this opinion of its loy- alty, accordingly, he did defend and support it ; and did persecute all dissidents from its doctrine, at least as violently as he afterward did those who opposed popery. It was only when he found that the orthodox doctrines of non-resistance and jus divinum would not go all lengths, and that even the bishops would not send his proclamation to their clergy, that he came to class them with the rest of the heretics, and to rely entirely upon the slavish votaries of the Roman super- stition. The next set of remarks is introduced for the pur- pose of showing that Mr. Fox has gone rather too far, in stating that the object both of Charles and James in taking money from Lewis, was to render themselves independent of Parliament, and to enable them to gov- ern without those assemblies. Mr. Rose admits that this was the point which both monarch were desirous of attaining ; and merely says, that it does not appear that either of them expected that the calling of Par- liaments could be entirely dispensed with. There certainly is not here any worthy subject of conten- tion. The next point is, as to the sums of money which Barillon says he distributed to the whig leaders, as well as to the king's ministers. Mr. Rose is very lib- eral and rational on this subject ; and thinks it not un- fair to doubt the accuracy of the accounts which this minister renders of his disbursements. He even quotes two passages from Mad. de Sevigne, to show that it was the general opinion that he had enriched himself greatly by his mission to England. In a letter written during the continuance of that mission, she says, < Ba- rillon s'en va, &c. ; son emploi est admirable cette an- n'ee ; il mangera cinquante mille francs ; mais il sait bien ou les prendre? And after his final return, she says he is old and rich, and looks without envy on the brilliant situation of M. D'Avaus. The only inference he draws from the discussion is, that it should have a little sha- ken Mr. Fox's confidence in his accuracy. The an swer to which obviously is, that his mere dishonesty, where his private interest was concerned, can afford no reason for doubting his accuracy, where it was not • affected. In the concluding section of his remarks, Mr. Rose resumes his eulogium on Sir Patrick Hume, — introdu- ces a splendid encomium on the Marquis of Montrose, — brings authority to show, that torture was used to extort confession in Scotland even after the Revolu- tion, — and then breaks out into a high tory rant against Mr. Fox, for supposing that the councillors who condemned Argyle might not be very easy in their consciences, and for calling those who were hunt, ing down that nobleman's dispersed followers < autho- rized assassins.' James, he says, was their lawful sovereign ■ and the parties in question having been in open rebellion, it was the evident duty of all who had not joined with them to suppress them. We are not very fond of arguing general points of this nature ; ana the question here is fortunately special and simple. If the tyranny and oppression of James in Scotland — the unheard-of enormity of which Mr. Rose owns that Mr. Fox has understated — had already given that country a far juster title to renounce him than Eng- land had in 1688, then James was not l their lawful sovereign ' in any sense in which that phrase can be understood by a free people ; and those whose cow- ardice or despair made them submit to be the instru- ments of the tyrant's vengeance on one who had armed for their deliverance, may very innocently be pre- sumed to have suffered some remorse for their com- pliance. With regard, again, to the phrase of ' autho- rized assassins,' it is plain from the context of Mr Fox, that -it is not applied to the regular forces acting against the remains of Argyle's armed followers, but to those individuals, whether military or not, who pur- sued the disarmed and solitary fugitives, for the pur- pose of butchering them in cold blood, in their caverns and mountains. Such is the substance of Mr. Rose's observations ; which certainly do not appear to us of any considera- ble value — though they indicate, throughout, a lauda- ble industry, and a stDl more laudable consciousness of inferiority, — together with (what we are determ- ined to believe) a natural disposition to liberality and moderation, counteracted by the littleness of party jealousy and resentment. We had noted a great num- ber of petty misrepresentations and small inaccura-* cies; but in a work which is not likely either to be much read, or long remembered, these things are not worth the trouble of correction. Though the book itself is very dull, however, we must say that the Appendix is very entertaining. Sir Patrick's narrative is clear and spirited ; but what de- lights us far more, is another and more domestic and miscellaneous narrative of the adventures of his fami- ly, from the period of Argyle's discomfiture till their return in the train of King William. This is from the hand of Lady Murray, Sir Patrick's grand-daughter ; and is mostly furnished from the information of her mother, his favourite and exemplary daughter. There is an air of cheerful magnanimity and artless goodness about this little history, which is extremely engaging : and a variety of traits of Scottish simplicity and home- liness of character, Avhich recommend it, in a peculiar manner, to our national feelings. Although we have already enlarged this article beyond its proper limits, we must give our readers a few specimens of this sin- gular chronicle. After Sir Patrick's escape, he made his way to his own custle, and was concealed for some time in a vault under the church, where his daughter, then a girl un- der twenty, went alone, every night, with an heroic fortitude, to comfort and feed him. The gaiety, how- ever, which lightened this perilous intercourse, is to us still more admirable than its heroism. 'She went every night by herself, at midnight, to carry him victuals and drink ; and stayed with him as long as she could to get home before day. In all this time, my grandfather showed me the same constant composure and cheerfulness or mind that he continued to possess to his death, which was at the age of eighty-four ; all which good qualities she inherited DISTURBANCES AT MADRAS. 207 from him in a high degree. Often did they laugh heartily in that doleful habitation, at different accidents that happened. She at that time had a terror for a churchyard, especially in the dark, as is not uncommon at her age, by idle nursery sto- ries ; but when engaged by concern for her, father, she stum- bled over the graves every night alone, without fear of any kind entering her thoughts, but for soldiers and parties in search of him, which the least noise or motion of a leaf put her in terror for. The minister's house was near the church. The first night she went, his dogs kept such a barking as put her in the utmost fear of a* discovery. My grandmother sent for the minister next day, and, upon pretence of a in ad dog, got him to hang all his dogs. There was also difficulty of get- ting victuals to carry him, without the servants suspecting : the only way it was done, was by stealing it off her plate at dinner into her lap. Many a diverting story she has told about this, and other things of the like nature. Her father liked sheep's head ; and, while the children were eating their broth, she had conveyed most of one into her lap. When her brother Sandy (the late Lord Marchmont) had done, he looked up with astonishment, and said, " Mother, will you look at Grizzel ; while we have been eating our broth, she has eat up the whole sheep's head." This occasioned so much mirth among them, that her father, at night, was greatly entertained by it ; and desired Sandy might have a share in the next. ' — App. p. [v.} They then tried to secret him in a low room in his own house ; and, for this purpose, to contrive a bed concealed under the floor, which this affectionate and light-hearted girl secretly excavated herself, by- scratching up the earth wiih her nails, l till she left not a nail on her fingers,' and carrying it into the gar- den at night in bags. At last, however, they all got over to Holland, where they seem to have lived in great poverty, — but in the same style of magnanimous gaiety and cordial affection, of which some instances hade been recited. This admirable young woman, who lived afterwards with the same simplicity of character in the first society in England, seems to have exerted ncrself in a way that nothing but affection could have rendered tolerable, even to one bred up to drudgery. ' All the time they were there,' (says his daughter,) ' there was not a week my mother did not sit up two nights, to do the business that was necessary. She went to the market ; went to the mill to have their corn ground — which, it seems, is the way with good managers there ; dressed the linen ; cleaned the house ; made ready dinner ; mended the children's stock- ings, and other clothes ; made what she could for them ; and, in short, did every thing. Her sister Christian, who was a year or two younger, diverted her father and mother, and the rest, who were fond of music. Out of their small income, they bought a harpsichord for little money (but is a Rucar*), now in my custody, and most valuable. My aunt played and sung well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn to business. Though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it as well as she did, she was forced to drudge ; and many jokes used to pass betwixt the sisters about their differ- ent occupations.' p. [ix.] ' Her brother soon afterwards entered into the Prince of Orange's guards : and her constant attention was to have him appear right in his linen and dress. They wore Tittle point cravats and cuffs, which many a night she sat up to have in as good order for him as any in the place ; and one of their great- est expenses was in dressing him as he ought to be. As their house was always full of the unfortunate banished people like themselves, they seldom went to dinner without three, or four, or five of them to share with them; and many a hundred times have I heard her say she could never look back upon their manner of living there, without thinking it a miracle. They had no want, but plenty of everything they desired, and much contentment ; and always declared it the most pleasing part of her life, though they were not without their little distresses ; but to tliem they were rather jokes than grievances. The pro- fessors and men of learning in the place came often to see my grandfather. The best entertainment he could give them was a glass of alabast beer, which was a better kind of ale than common. He sent his son Andrew, the late Lord Kimmer- ghame, a boy, to draw some for them in the cellar : he brought i' up with great diligence ; but in the other hand the spiket of the barrel. My grandfather said, " Andrew, what is that in your hand J" When he saw it, he run down with speed ; but the beer waa all run out before he got there. This occasioned much mirth ; though, perhaps, they did not well know where to get more.'— pp. [x. xi.] Sir Patrick, we are glad to hear, retained this kindly cheerfulness of character to the last ; and, after he * An eminent maker of that time. was an earl and chancellor of Scotland, and unable to stir with gout, had himself carried to the room where his children and grandchildren were dancing, and in • sisted on beating time with his foot. Nay, when dy- ing at the advanced age of eighty-four, he could not resist his old propensity to joking, but uttered various pleasantries on the disappointment the worms would meet with, when, after boring through his thick coffin, they would find little but bones. There is, in the Appendix, besides these narrations, a fierce attack upon Burnet, which is full of inaccura- cies and ill temper ; and some interesting particulars of Monmouth's imprisonment and execution. We dare say Mr. Rose could publish a volume or two of very interesting tracts ; and can venture to predict, that his collections will be much more popular than his obser- vations. DISTURBANCES AT MADRAS. (Edinburgh Review, ldlO.) * Narrative of the Origin and Progress of the Dissensions at the Presidency of Madras, founded on Original Papers and Correspondence. Lloyd, London, 1810. Account of the Origin and Progress of the late Discontents of the Army on the Madras Establishment. Cadell and Davies, London, 1810. Statement of Facts delivered to the Right Honourable Lord Minto. By William Petrie, Esq. Stockdale, London, 1810 The disturbances which have lately taken place in our East Indian possessions, would, at any period, have excited a considerable degree of alarm ; and those feel- ings are, of course, not a little increased by the ruin- ous aspect of our European affairs. The revolt of an army of eighty thousand men is an event which seems to threaten so nearly the ruin of the country in which it happens, that no common curiosity is excited as to the causes which could have led to it, and the means by which its danger was averted. On these points, we shall endeavour to exhibit to our readers the infor- mation afforded to us by the pamphlets whose titles we have cited. The first of these is understood to be written by an agent of Sir George Barlow, sent over for the express purpose of defending his measures ; the second is most probably the production of some one of the dismissed officers, or, at least, founded upon their representations ; the third statement is by Mr. Petrie, — and we most cordially recommend it to the perusal of our readers. It is characterized, through- out, by moderation, good sense, and a feeling of duty. We have seldom read a narrative, which, on the first face of it, looked so much like truth. It has, of course, produced the ruin and dismissal of this gentle- man, though we have not the shadow of doubt, that if his advice had been followed, every unpleasant occur- rence which has happened in India might have been effectually prevented. In the year 1802,a certain monthly allowance, pro- portioned to their respective ranks, was given to each officer of the coast army, to enable him to provide himself with a camp equipage ; and a monthly allow- ance was also made to the commanding officers of the native corps, for the provision of the camp equipage of these corps. This arrangement was commonly called the tent contract. Its intention (as the pamphlet of Sir George Barlow's agent very properly states) was to combine facility of movement in military operations with views of economy. In the general revision of its establishments, set on foot for the purposes of econo- my by the Madras government, this contract was con- sidered as entailing upon them a very unnecessary ex- pense; and the then commander-in-chief, General Craddock, directed Colonel Munro, the quartermaster- general, to make a report to him upon the subject. The report, which was published almost as soon as it was made up, recommends the abolition of this con- tract ; and, among other passages for the support of this opinion, has the following one : — I Six years' experience of the practical effects of the existing system of the camp equipage equipment of the native army, has afforded means of forming a judgment relative to its ad vantages and efficiency which were not possessed by the per WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. sons who proposed its introduction ; and an attentive examina- tion of its operations during that period of time has suggested the following observations regarding it : After stating that the contract is needlessly expen- sive — that it subjects the Company to the same char- ges for troops in the garrison as for those in the field — the report proceeds to state the following observation, made on the authority of six years experience and atten- tive examination . •Thirdly. By granting the same allowances in peace and war for the equipment of native corps, while the expenses inci- dental to that charge are unavoidably much greater in war than in peace, it places the interest and duty of officers commanding native corps in direct opposition to one another. It makes it their interest that their corps should not be in a state of efficiency tit for field service, and therefore furnishes strong inducements to neglect their most important duties.' — Accurate and Authentic Narrative, pp. 117, 118. Here, then, is not only a proposal for reducing the emoluments of the principal officers of the Madras army, but a charge of the most flagrant nature. The first they might possibly have had some right to con- sider as a hardship ; but, when severe and unjust in- vective was superadded to strict retrenchment — when their pay and their reputation were diminished at the same time — it cannot be considered as surprising, that such treatment, on the part of the government, should lay the foundation for a spirit of discontent in those troops who had recently made such splendid additions to the Indian empire, and established, in the progress of these acquisitions, so high a character for discipline and courage. It must be remembered, that an officer on European and one on Indian service are in very dif- ferent situations, and propose to themselves very dif- ferent objects. The one never thinks of making a fortune by his profes»ion, while the hope of ultimately gaining an independence is the principal motive for which the Indian officer banishes himself from his country. To diminish the emoluments of his profes- sion is to retard the period of his return, and to frus- trate the purpose for which he exposes his life and health in a burning climate, on the other side of the world. We make these observations, certainly, with- out any idea of denying the right of the East India Company to make any retrenchments they may think proper, but to show that it is a right which ought to be exercised with great delicacy and with sound dis- cretion — that it should only be exercised when the re- trenchment is of real importance, and, above all, that it should always be accompanied by every mark of suavitv and conciliation. Sir George Barlow, on the contrary, committed the singular imprudence of stig- matizing the honour, and wounding the feelings of the Indian officers. At the same moment that he dimi- nishes their emoluments, he tells them, that the India Company take away their allowances for tents, be- cause those allowances have been abused in the mean- est, most profligate, and most unsoldierlike manner ; for this, and more than this is conveyed in the report of Colonel Munro, published by order of Sir George Barlow. If it was right, in the first instance, to dimi- nish the emoluments of so vast an army, it was cer- tainly indiscreet to give such reasons for it. If any individual had abused the advantages of the tent con- tract, he might have been brought to a court-martial ; and if his guilt had been established, his punishment, we will venture to assert, would not have occasioned a a moment of complaint or disaffection in the army ; but that a civilian, a gentleman accustomed only to the details of commerce, should begin his government, over a settlement with which he was utterly unac- quainted, by telling one of the bravest set of officers in the world, that, for six years past, they had been, in the basest manner, sacrificing their duty to their in- terest, does appear to us an instance of indiscretion, which, if frequently repeated, would soon supersede the necessity of any further discussion upon Indian affairs. The whole transaction, indeed, appears to have been gone into with a disregard to the common profes- sional feelings of an army, which is to us utterly inex- plicable. The opinion of the commander-in-chief, General Macdowall, was never asked upon the subject ; I not a single witness was examined; the whole seems to have depended upon the report of Colonel Munro, I the youngest staff-officer of the army, published in spite of the earnest remonstrance of Colonel Capper, |he adjutant-general, and before three days had been given him to substitute his own plan, which Sir George Barlow had promised to read before the publication of Colonel Munro's report. Nay, this great plan of redue tion was never even submitted to the military board, by whom all subjects of that description were, accord- ing to the orders of the court of directors, and the usage of the service, to be discussed and digested, pre vious to their coming before government. Shortly after the promulgation of this very indiscreet paper, the eommander-in- chief, General Macdowall, received letters from almost all the officers command- ing native corps, representing, in terms adapted to the feelings of each, the stigma which was considered to attach to them individually, and appealing to the au- thority of the commander-in-chief for redress against such charges, and to his personal experience for their falsehood. ^ To these letters the general replied, tha the orders in question had been prepared unthout any reference to his opinion, and that, as the matter was so far advanced, he deemed it inexpedient to interfere. The officers commanding corps, finding that no steps were taken to remove the obnoxious insinuations, and considering that, while they remained, an indelible dis- grace was cast upon their characters, prepared charges against Colonel Munro. These charges were for- warded to General Macdowall, referred by him to the judge advocate general, and returned with his ob- jections to them, to the officers who had preferred the charges. For two months after this period, General Macdowall appears to have remained in a state of un- certainty, as to whether he would or would not bring Colonel Munro to a court-martial upon the charges pre- ferred against him by the commanders of the corps. At last, urged by the discontents of the army, he de- termined in the affirmative ; and Colonel Munro was put in arrest, preparatory to his trial. Colonel Munro then appealed directly to the governor, Sir George Barlow ; and was released by a positive order from him. It is necessary to state, that all appeals of of- ficers to the government in India always pass through the hands of the commander-in-chief; and this appeal, therefore, of Colonel Munro, directed to the govern- ment, was considered by General Macdowall as a great infringement of military discipline. We have very great doubts whether Sir George Barlow was not guilty of another great mistake in preventing the court-mar- tial from taking place. It is undoubtedly true, that no servant of the public is amenable to justice for doing what the government orders him to do ; but he is not entitled to protection under the pretence of that order, if he has done something which it evidently did not require of him. If Colonel Munro had been ordered to report upon the conduct of an individual officer, and it could be proved that, in gratification of private ma- lice, he had taken that opportunity of stating the most infamous and malicious falsehoods — could it be urged that his conduct might not be fairly scrutinized in a court of justice, or a court-martial? If this were other- wise, any duty delegated by government to an indi- vidual would become the most intolerable source ot oppression : he might gratify every enmity and anti- pathy — indulge in every act of malice — vilify and tra- duce every one whom he hated — and then shelter him- self under the plea of public service . Every body has a right to do what the supreme power orders him to i do ; but he does not thereby acquire a right to do what he has not been ordered to do. Colonel Munro was directed to make a report upon the state of the army : the officers whom he has traduced accuse him of reporting something totally different from the state of the army — something which he and every body else knew to be different — and this for the malicious pur- pose of calumniating their reputation. If this was true, Colonel Munro could not plead the authority of government ; for the authority of government was af- forded to him for a very different purpose. In this view of the case, we cannot see how the dignity of government was attacked by the proposal of the court* DISTURBANCES AT MADRAS. martial, or to what other remedy those who had suf- fered from his abuse of power could have had recourse. Colonel Munro had been promised, by General Mac- dowall, that the court-martial should consist of king's officers: there could not, therefore, have been any rational suspicion that this trial would have been un- fair, or his judges unduly influenced. Soon after Sir George Barlow had shown this reluc- tance to give the complaining officers an opportunity of re-establishing their injured character, General Mac- dowall sailed for England, and left behind him, for publication, an order, in which Colonel Munro was reprimanded for a violent breach of military disci- pline, in appealing to the governor otherwise than through the customary and prescribed channel of the commander-in-chief. As this paper is very short, and at the same time very necessary to the right compre- hension of this case, we shall lay it before our readers. ' G. O. by the Commander-in-chief. ' The immediate departure of Lieutenant-General Macdowall from Madras will prevent his pursuing the design of bringing Lieutenant-Colonel Munro, quartermaster-general, to trial, for disrespect to the commander-in-chief, for disobedience of orders, and for contempt of military authority, in having re- sorted to the power of the civil government, in defiance of the judgment of the officer at the head of the army, who had placed him under arrest, on charges preferred against him by a num- ber of officers commanding native corps, in consequence of which appeal direct to the honourable the president in council, Lieutenant-General Macdowall has received positive orders from the chief secretary to liberate Lieutenant-Colonel Munro from arrest. 'Such conduct on the part of Lieutenant-Colonel Munro, being destructive of subordination, subversive of military dis- cipline, a violati%n of the sacred rights of the commander-in- chief, and holding out a most dangerous example to the ser- vice, Lieutenant-General Macdowall, in support of the dignity of the profession, and his own station and character, feels it incumbent on him to express his strong disapprobation of Lieu- tenant-Colonel Munro's unexampled proceedings, and con- siders it a duty imposed upon him to reprimand Lieutenant- Colonel Munro in general orders; and he is hereby repri- manded accordingly. (Signed) T. Boles, d. a. g.' — Acur. and Auth. Nar. pp. 68. 69. Sir George Barlow, in consequence of this paper, immediately deprived General Macdowall of his situa- tion of commander-in-chief, which he had not yet resigned, though he had quitted the settlement ; and, as the official signature of the deputy adjutant-general appeared to the paper, that officer also was suspended from his situation. Colonel Capper, the adjutant-ge- neral, in the most honourable manner informed Sir George Barlow that he was the culpable and responsi- ble person ; and that the name of his deputy only appeared to the paper in consequence of his positive order, and because he himself happened to be absent on shipboard with General Macdowall. This gene- rous conduct on the part of Colonel Capper involved himself in punishment, without extricating the inno- cent person whom he intended to protect. The Ma- dras government, always swift to condemn, doomed him to the same punishment as Major Boles ; and he was suspended from his office. This paper we have read over with great attention ; and we really cannot see wherein its criminality con- sists, or on what account it could have drawn down on General Macdowall so severe a punishment as the privation of the high and dignified office which he held. The censure upon Colonel Munro was for a violation of the regular etiquette of the army, in appealing to the governor otherwise than through the channel of the commander-in-chief. This was an entirely new offence on the part of Colonel Munro. Sir George Barlow had given no opinion upon it; it had not been discussed between him and the com- mander-in-chief; and the commander-in-chief was clearly at liberty to act in this point as he pleased. He does not reprimand Colonel Munro for obeying Sir George Barlow's orders — for Sir George had given no orders upon the subject ; but he blames him for trans- gressing a well-known and important rule of the ser- vice. We have great doubts if he was not quite right in giving this reprimand. But at all events, if he was wrong — if Colonel Munro was not guilty of the offence imputed still the erroneous punishment which the O general had inflicted merited no such severe retribu- tion as that resorted to by Sir George Barlow. There are no reflections in the paper on the conduct of the governor or the government. The reprimand is grounded entirely upon the breach of that military dis- cipline which it was undoubtedly the business of Gene- ral Macdowall to maintain in the most perfect purity and vigour. Nor has the paper any one expression in it foreign to this purpose. We were, indeed, not a little astonished at reading it. We had imagined that a paper which drew after it such a long train of dismis- sals and suspensions, must have contained a declara- tion of war against the Madias government, — an ex- hortation to the troops to throw off their allegiance, — or an advice to the natives to drive their intrusive mas- ters away, and become as free as their forefathers had left them. Instead of this, we find nothing more than a common reprimand from a commander-in-chief to a subordinate officer, for transgressing the bounds of his duty. If Sir George Barlow had governed kingdoms six months longer, we cannot help thinking he would have been a little more moderate. But whatever difference of opinion there may be respecting the punishment of General Macdowall, we can scarcely think there can be any with regard to the conduct observed towards the adjutant-general and his deputy. They were the subordinates of the com- mander-in-chief, and were peremptorily bound to pub- fish any general orders which he might command them to pubfish. They would have been liable to very severe punishment if they had not ; and it appears to us the most flagrant outrage against all justice to con- vert their obedience into a fault. It is true, no subor- dinate officer is bound to obey any order which is plainly, and to any common comprehension, illegal; but then the illegality must be quite manifest ; the order must imply such a contradiction to common sense, and such a violation of duties superior to the duty of military obedience, that there can be scarcely two opinions on the subject. Wherever any fair doubt can be raised, the obedience of the inferior officer is to be considered as proper and meritorious. Upon any other principle, his situation is the most cruel imagin- able : he is liable to the severest punishment, even to instant death, if he refuses to obey ; and if he does obey, he is exposed to the animadversion of the civil power, which teaches him that he ought to have can-, vassed the order, — to have remonstrated against it, — and, in case this opposition proved ineffectual, to have disobeyed it. We have no hesitation in pronouncing the imprisonment of Colonel Capper and Major Boles to have been an act of great severity and great indis- cretion, and such as might very fairly give great offence to an army, who saw themselves exposed to the same punishments, for the same adherence to their duties. ' The measure of removing Lieutenant-Colonel Capper and Major Boles,' says Mr. Petrie, ' was universally condemned by the most respectable officers in the army, and not more so by the officers in the Company's service, than by those of his majesty's regiments. It was felt by all as the introduction of a most dangerous principle, and setting a pernicious example of disobedience and insubordination to all the gradations of military rank and authority ; teaching inferior officers to ques- tion the legality of the orders of their superiors, and bringing into discussion questions which may endanger the very exist- ence of government. Our proceedings at the time operated like an electric shock, and gave rise to combinations, associa- tions, and discussions, pregnant with danger to every consti tuted authority in India. It was observed that the removal of General Macdowall (admitting the expediency of the mea- sure), sufficiently vindicated the authority of government, and exhibited to the army a memorable proof that the supreme power is vested in the civil authority. ' The offence came from the general, and he was punished for it ; but to suspend from the service the mere instruments of office, for the ordinary transmission of an order to the army, was universally condemned as an act of inapplicable severity, which might do infinite mischief, but could not accomplish any good or beneficial purpose. It was to court unpopularity, and adding fuel to the flame, which was ready to burst forth iu every division of the army ; that to vindicate the measure on the assumed illegality of the order, is to resort to a principle of a most dangerous tendency, capable of being extended in its application to purposes subversive of the foundations of all authority, civil as well as military. If subordinate officers are 210 WORKS OP THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. encouraged to judge of the legality of the orders of their su- periors, we introduce a precedent of incalculable mischief, neither justified by the spirit nor the practice of the laws. Is it not better to have the responsibility on the head of the au- thority which issues the order, except in cases so plain, that the most common capacity can judge of their being direct violations of the established and acknowledged laws? Is the intemperance of the expressions, the indiscretion of the opinions, the inflammatory tendency of the order, so eminently dangerous, so evidently calculated to excite to mutiny and disobedience, so strongly marked with the features of crimi- nality, as not to be mistaken? Was the order, I beg leave to ask, of this description, of such a nature as to justify the adju- tant-general and his deputy in their refusal to publish it, to disobey the order of the commander-in-chief, to revolt from hie authority, and to complain of him to the government ? Such were the views I took of that unhappy transaction ; and, as I foresaw serious mischief from the measure, not only to the discipline of the army, but even to the security of the civil government, it was my duty to state my opinion to Sir G. Bar- low, and to use every argument which my reason suggested, to prevent the publication of the order. In this I completely failed ; the suspension took effect ; and the match was laid that has communicated the flame to almost every military mind in India. I recorded no dissent ; for as a formal opposition could only tend to exonerate myself from a certain degree of re- sponsibility, without effecting any good public purpose, and might probably be misconstrued or misconceived by those to whom our proceedings were made known, it was a more honourable discharge of my duty to relinquish this advantage, than to comply with the mere letter of the order respecting dissents. I explained this motive of my conduct to Sir G. Barlow.'— -Statement of Facts, pp, 20, 23. After these proceedings on the part of the Madras government, the disaffection of the troops rapidly increased ; absurd and violent manifestoes were pub- lished by the general officers ; government was insult- ed ; and the army soon broke out into open mutiny. When the mutiny was fairly begun, the conduct of the Madras government in quelling it, seems nearly as objectionable as that by which it had been excited. The governor, in attempting to be dignified, perpetu- ally fell into the most puerile irritability ; and wish- ing to be firm, was guilty of injustice and violence. Invitations to dinner were made an affair of state. Long negotiations appear respecting whole corps of officers who refused to dine with Sir George Barlow ; and the first persons in the settlement were employed to persuade them to eat the repast which his excel- lency had prepared for them. A whole school of military lads were sent away, for some trifling dis- play of partiality to the cause of the army; and every unfortunate measure recurred to, which a weak under- standing and a captious temper could employ to bring a government into contempt. Officers were dismissed ; but dismissed without trial, and even without accusa- tion. The object seemed to be to punish somebody : whether it was the right or the wrong person was less material. Sometimes the subordinate was select- ed, where the principal was guilty; sometimes the superior was sacrificed for the ungovernable conduct of those who were under his charge. The blows were strong enough ; but they came from a man who shut his eyes, and struck at random ; — conscious that he must do something to repel the danger — but so agitated by its proximity that ne could not look at it, or take a proper aim. Among the other absurd measures resorted to by this new eastern emperor, was the notable expedient of imposing a test upon the officers of the army, ex- pressive of their loyalty and attachment to the go- vernment ; and as this was done at a time when some officers were in open rebellion, others fluctuating, and many almost resolved to adhere to their duty, it had the very natural and probable effect of uniting them all in opposition to government. To impose a test, or trial of opinions, is at all times an unpopular species of inquisition ; and at a period when men were hesitating whether they should obey or not, was cer- tainly a very dangerous and rash measure. It could be no security ; for men who would otherwise rebel against their government, certainly would not be re- strained by any verbal barriers of this kind ; and, at the same time that it promised no effectual security, it appeared to increase the danger of irritated com- binatiou. This very rash measure immediately pro- duced the strongest representations and remonstrances from king's officers of the most unquestionable loyalty. ' Lieutenant Colonel Vesey, commanding at Palamcotah, ap- prehends the most fatal consequences to the tranquillity of the southern provinces, if Colonel Wilkinson makes any hostile movements from Trichinopoly. In different letters he states, that such a step must inevitably throw the company's troops into open revolt. He has ventured to write in the strongest terms to Colonel Wilkinson, entreating him not to march against the southern troops, and pointing out the ruinous con- sequences which may he expected from such a measure 'Lieutenant Colonel Stuart in Travancore, and Colonel Forbes in Malabar, have written, that they are under no appre- hension for the tranquillity of those provinces, or for the fidelity of the company's troops, if government does not insist on en- forcing the orders for the signature of the test; but that, if this is attempted, the security of the country will be immi- nently endangered. These orders are to be enforced ; and I tremble for the consequences.' — Statement of Facts, pp. 53, 54. The following leUer from the Honourable Colonel Stuart, commanding a king's regiment, was soon after received by Sir George Barlow : — 1 The late measures of government, as carried in effect at the Presidency and Trichinopoly, have created a most violent ferment among the corps here. At those places where the European force was so far superior in number to the native' the measure probably was executed without difficulty; but here, where there are seven battalions of sepoys', and a com- pany and a half of artillery, to our one regiment, I found it totally impossible to carry the business to the same length, particularly as any tumult among our own corps would cer tainly bring the people of Travancore upon us. 4 It is in vain, therefore, for me, with the small force I can depend upon, to attempt to stem the torrenyiere by any acts of violence. 'Most sincerely and axiously do I wish that the present tu- mult may subside, without fatal consequences ; which, if the present violent measures are continued, I much fear will not be the case. If blood is once spilt in the cause, there is no knowing where it may end; and the probable consequence will be, that India will be lost for ever. So many officers of the army have gone to such lengths, that unless a general am- nesty is granted, tranquillity can never be restored. ' The honourable the governor in council will not, I trust, impute to me any other motives, for having thus given my opinion. I am actuated solely by anxiety for the public good and the benefit of my country ; and I think it my duty, holding the responsible station which I now do, to express my senti- meuts at so awful a period. 'Where there are any prospects of success, it might be right to persevere ; but where every day's experience proves, that the more coercive the measures adopted, the more violent are the consequences, a different and more conciliatory line of conduct ought to be adopted. I have the honour, &c.' — State- ment of Facts, pp. 55, 56. 'A letter from Colonel Forbes, commanding in Malabar, states that, to prevent a revolt in the province, and the prob- able march of the company's troops towards Seringapatam, he.had accepted of a modification in the test, to be signed by the officers on their parole, to make no hostile movements until the pleasure of the government was known. — Disap- proved by the government, and ordered to enforce the former orders.' — Statement of Facts, p. 61. It can scarcely be credited, that in spite of these repeated remonstrances from officers, whose lo) r alty and whose knowledge of the subject could not be sus- pected, this test was ordered to be enforced, and the severest rebukes inflicted upon those who had pre- sumed to doubt of its propriety, or suspend its opera, tion. Nor let any man say that the opinionative per- son who persevered in this measure saw more clearly and deeply into the consequence of his own measures than those who were about him ; for unless Mr. Petric has been guilty, and repeatedly guilty, of a most downright and wilful falsehood, Sir George Barlow had not the most distant conception, during all these measures, that the army would ever venture upon re- volt. ' Government, or rather the head of the government, was never correctly informed of the actual state of the army, or I think he would have acted otherwise ; he was told, and he was willing to believe, that the discontents were confined to a small portion of the troops ; that a great majority disapproved of their proceedings, and were firmly and unalterably attached to the government.'— Statement of Facts, pp. 23, 24. In a conversation which Mr. Petrie had with Sir George Barlow upon the subject of the army— and in DISTURBANCES AT MADRAS. 211 the course of which he recommends to that gentleman more lenient measures, and warns him of the increas- ing disaffection of the troops — he gives us the follow- ing account of Sir George Barlow's notions of the then state of the army : — 'Sir G. Barlow assured me I was greatly misinformed; that he could rely upou his intelligence ; and would produce to council the most satisfactory and unequivocal proofs of the fidelity of nine-tenths of the army ; that the discontents were confined almost exclusively to the southern divison of tiie army ; that the troops composing the subsidiary force, those in the ceded districts, in the centre, and a part of the northern division, were all untainted by those principles which had misled the rest of the army.'— Statement of Facts, pp. 27, 28. All those violent measures, then, the spirit and wisdom of which have been so much extolled, were not measures of the consequences of which their author had the most distant suspicion. They were not the acts of a man who knew that he must unavoid- ably, in the discharge of his duty, irritate, but that he could ultimately evercome that irritation. They appear, on the contrary, to have proceeded from a most gross and scandalous ignorance of the opinions of the army. He expected passive submission, and met with universal revolt. So far, then, his want of intelligence and sagacity are unquestionably proved. He did not proceed with useful measures, and run the risk of a revolt, for which he was fully prepared ; but he carried these measures into execution, firmly con- vinced that they would occasion no revolt at all.* The fatal nature of this mistake is best exemplified by the means recurred to for its correction. The grand expedient relied upon was to instigate the natives, men and officers, to disobey their European com- manders;. an expedient by which present safety was secured at the expense of every principle upon which the permanence of our Indian empire rests. There never was in the world a more singular spectacle than to see a few thousand Europeans governing so despo- tically fifty or sixty millions of people, of different climate, religion, and habits — forming them into large and well-disciplined armies — and leading them out to the further subjugation of the native powers of India. But can any words be strong enough to paint the rash- ness of provoking a mutiny, which could only be got under by teaching these armies to act against their European commanders, and to use their actual strength in overpowering their officers ? — or, is any man en- titled to the praise of firmness and sagacity, who gets rid of a present danger by encouraging a principle which renders that danger more frequent and more violent. We will venture to assert, that a more un- wise or a more unstatesmanlike action was never com- mitted by any man in any country ; and we are griev- ously mistaken, if any length of time elapse before the evil consequences of it are felt and deplored by every man who deems the welfare of our Indian colonies of any importance to the prosperity of the mother country We cannot help contrasting the management of t a discontents of the Madras army, with the manner in which the same difficulty was got over with the army at Bengal. A little increase of attention and emolument to the head of that army, under the management of a man of rank and talents, dissipated appearances which the sceptred pomp of a merchant's clerk would have blown up into a rebellion in three weeks ; and yet the Bengal army is at this moment in as good a state of discipline, as the Eng- lish fleet to which Lord Howe made such abject con- cessions — and in a state to be much more permanently depended upon than the army which has been so effectually ruined by the inconveniently great soul of the present governor of Madras. Sir George Barlow's agent, though faithful to his employment of calumniating those who were in any degree opposed to his principal, seldom loses sight of sound discretion, and confines his invectives to whole bodies of men, except where the dead are concerned. " We should have been alarmed to have seen Sir George Barlow, junior, churchwarden of St. George's, Hanover Square, —an offic.e so nobly filled by Giblet and Leslie ; it was an huge afHiction to see so incapable a man at the head of the Indian empire. ! Against Colonel Capper, General Macdowall, and Mr. Roebuck, who are now no longer alive to answer for themselves, he is intrepidly severe ; in all these in- stances he gives a full loose to his sense of duty, and inflicts upon them the severest chastisement. In his attack upon the civilians, he is particularly careful to keep to generals ; and so rigidly does he adhere to this principle, that he does not support his assertion, that the civil service was disaffected as well as the military, by one single name, one single fact, or by any other means whatever, than his own affirmation of the fact. The truth (as might be supposed to be the case from such sort of evidence) is diametricaily opposite. Nothing could be more exemplary, during the whole of the rebellion, than the conduct of the civil servants ; and though the courts of justice were interfered with — though the most respectable servants of the company were punished for the verdicts they had given as jurymen — though many were dismissed for the slightest opposition to the pleasure of go- vernment, even in the discharge of official duties, where remonstrance was absolutely necessary, — though the greatest provocation was given, and the greatest opportunity afforded to the civil servants for revolt, there is not a single instance in which the shadow of disaffection has been proved against any civil servant. This we say. from an accurate exami- nation of all the papers which nave been published on the subject ; and we do not hesitate to affirm, that there never was a more unjust, unfounded, and profli- gate charge made against any body of men ; nor have we often witnessed a more complete scene of folly and violence, than the conduct of the Madras government to its civil servants, exhibited during the whole period of the mutiny. Upon the whole, it appears to us, *hat the Indian army was ultimately driven into revolt by the indis- cretion and violence of the Madras government ; and that every evil which has happened might, with the greatest possible facility, have been avoided. We have no sort of doubt that the governor always meant well ; but we are equally certain that he almost always acted ill ; and where incapacity rises to a cer- tain height, for all practical purposes, the motive is of very little consequence. That the late General Macdowall was a weak man, is unquestionable. He was also irritated (and not without reason) , because he was deprived of a seat in council, which the com- manders before him had commonly enjoyed. A little attention, however, on the part ot the government — the compliment of consulting him upon subjects con- nected with his profession — any of those little arts which are taught, not by a consummate political skill, but dictated by common good nature, and by the habit of mingling with the world, would have produced the effects of conciliation, and employed the force of Ge- neral Macdo wall's authority in bringing the army into a better temper of mind. Instead of this, it appears to have been almost the object, and if not the object, certainly the practice, of the Madras government to neglect and insult this officer. Changes of the greatest importance were made without his advice, and even without any communication with him ; and it was too visible to those whom he was to command, that he himself possessed no sort of credit with his superiors. As to the tour which General Macdowall is supposed to have made for the purpose of spreading disaffection among the troops, and the part which he is represent- ed by the agents to have taken in the quarrels of the civilians with the government, we utterly discredit these imputations. They are unsupported by any kind of evidence ; and we believe them to be mere inven- tions, circulated by the friends of the Madras govern- ment. General Macdowall appears to us to have been a weak, pompous man ; extremely out of humour ; offended with the slights he had experienced; and whom any man of common address might have ma- naged with the greatest ease : but we do not see, in any part of his conduct, the shadow of disloyalty and disaffection ; and we are persuaded, that the assertion would never have been made, if he himself had been alive to prove its injustice. Besides the contemptuous treatment of General 212 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. Macdowall, we have great doubts whether the Mad- I ras government ought not to have suffered Colonel onro to be put upon his trial; and to punish the I ificers who solicited that trial for the purgation of their own characters, appears to us (whatever the in- tention was) to have been an act of mere tyranny. We think, too, that General Macdowall was very hastily and unadvisedly removed from his situation ; and upon the unjust treatment of Colonel Capper and Major Boles there can scarcely be two opinions. In the pro- gress of the mutiny, instead of discovering in the Madras government any appearances of temper and " 'wisdom, they appear to us to have been quite as much irritated, and heated as the army, and to have been be- trayed iuto excesses nearly as criminal, and infinitely more contemptible and puerile. The head of a great kingdom bickering with his officers about invitations to dinner — the commander-in-chief of the forces nego- tiating that the dinner should be loyally eaten — the obstinate absurdity of the test — the total want of se- lection in the objects of punishment — and the wicked- ness, or the insanity, of teaching the Sepoy to rise against his European officer — the contempt of the decision of juries in civil cases — and the punishment of the juries themselves; such a system of conduct as this would infallibly doom any individual to punish- ment, if it -did not, fortunately for him, display pre- cisely that contempt of men's feelings, and that pass- ion for insulting multitudes, which is so congenial to our present government at home, and which passes now so currently for wisdom and courage. By these means, the liberties of great nations are frequently de- stroyed — and destroyed with impunity to the perpe- trators of the crime. In distant colonies, however, governors who attempt the same system of tyranny are in no little danger from the indignation of their subjects; for though men will often yield up their happiness to kings who have been always kings, they are not inclined to show the same deference to men who have been merchants' clerks yesterday, and are kings to-day. From a danger of this kind, the gover- nor of Madras appears to us to have very narrowly escaped. We sincerely hope that he is grateful for his goocf luck ; and that he will now awake from his gor- geous dreams of mercantile monarchy, to goodnature, moderation, and common sense. BISHOP OF LINCOLN'S CHARGE* (Edinburgh Review, 1813.) A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese of Lincoln, at the Triennial Vistation of that Diocese in May, June, and July, 1812. By George Tomline, D. D., F. R. S., Lord Bishop of Lincoln. London. Cadell & Co. 4to. It is a melancholy thing to see a man, clothed in soft raiment, lodged in a public palace, endowed with a rich portion of the product of other men's industry, using all the influence of his splendid situation, however conscien- tiously, to deepen the ignorance, andinflame the fury, of his fellow-creatures. These are the miserable results of that policy which has been so frequently pursued for these fifty years past, of placing men of mean, or middling abilities, in high ecclesiastical stations. In ordinary times, it is of less importance' who fills them • but when the bitter period arrives, in which the people must give up some of their darling absurdities ; — when the senseless clamour, which has been carefully handed down from father fool to son fool, can be no longer indulged ; — when ■His of incalculable importance to turn the people to abet- ter way of thinking ; the greatest impediments to all ame- lioration are too often found among those to whose coun- cils, at such periods, the country ought to look for wis- dom and peace. We will suppress, however, the feel- ings of indignation which such productions, from such men, naturally occasion. We will give the Bishop of Lincoln credit for being perfectly sincere; we will sup- pose, that every argument he uses has not been used and refuted ten thousand times before ; and we will sit down as patiently to defend the religious liberties of * It is impossible to conceive the mischief which this mean and cunning prelate did at this period. mankind, as the reverend prelate has done to abridge them. We must begin with denying the main position up- on which the Bishop of Lincoln has built his reason- ing — The Catholic Religionis not tolerated in England. No man can be fairly said to be permitted to enjoy his own worship who is punished for exercising that worship. His lordship seems to have no other idea of punishment, than lodging a man in the Poultry compter, or flogging him at the cart's tail, or fining him a sum of money; — just as if incapacitating a man from enjoying the dignities and emoluments to which men of 'similar condition, and other faith, may fairly aspire, was not frequently the most severe and gall- ing of all punishments. This limited idea of the na- ture of punishment is the more extraordinary, as inca- pacitation is actually one of the most common punish ments in some branches of our law. The sentence of a court-martial frequently purports, that a man is ren- dered for ever incapable of serving his majesty, &c. &c; and a person not in holy orders, who performs the functions of a clergyman, is rendered for over in- capable of holding any preferment in the church. There are, indeed, many species of offence for which no punishment more apposite and judicious could be devised. It would be rather extraordinary, however, if the court, in passing such a sentence, were to as- sure the culprit, { that such incapacitation was not by them considered as a punishment ; that it was only exercising a right inherent in all governments, of de- termining who should be eligible for office and who ineligible.' His lordship thinks the toleration com- plete/because he sees a permission in the statutes for the exercise of the Roman Catholic worship. He sees the permission — but he does not choose to see the consequences to which they are exposed who avail themselves of this permission. It is the liberality ot a father who says to his son, l Do as you please, my dear boy; follow your own inclination. Judge for yourself; you are as free as air. But remember, if you marry that lady, I will cut you off with a shilling.' We have scarcely ever read a more solemn and frivo- lous statement than the Bishop of Lincoln's antitheti- cal distinction between persecution and the denial of political power. < It is sometimes said, that papists, being excluded from power, are consequently persecuted ; as if exclusion from power and religious persecution were convertible terms. But surely this is to confound things totally distinct in their nature. Persecution inflicts positive punishment upon per- sons who hold certain religious tenets, and endeavours to accomplish the renunciation and extinction of those tenets by forcible means : exclusion from power is entirely nega- tive in its operation — it only declares, that those who hold certain opinions shall not fill certain situations ; but it ac knowledges men to be perfectly free to hold those opinions. Persecution compels men to adopt a prescribed faith, or to suffer the loss of liberty, property, or even life : exclusion from power prescribes no faith ; it allows men to think and believe as they please, without molestation or interference. Persecution requires men to worship God in one and in no other way ; exclusion from power neither commands nor forbids any mode of divine worship — it leaves the business of religion, where it ought to be left, to every man's judg- ment and conscience. Persecution proceeds from a bigoted and sanguinary spirit of intolerance ; exclusion from power is founded in the natural and rational principle of self-pro- tection and self-preservation, equally applicable to nations and to individuals. History informs us of the mischievous and fatal effects of the one, and proves the expediency and necessity of the other.' — (pp. 16, 17.) We will venture to say, there is no one sentence in this extract which does not contain either a contra- diction, or a misstatement. For how can that law ac- knowledge men to be perfectly free to hold an opini- on, which excludes from desirable situations all who hold that opinion ? How can that law be said neither to molest, nor interfere, which meets a man in every branch of industry and occupation, to institute an in- quisition into his religious opinions ? And how is the business of religion left to every man's own judgment and conscience, where so powerful a bonus is given to one set of religious opinions, and such a mark of infa- my and degradation fixed upon all other modes of belief? But this is comparatively a very idle part of BISHOP OF LINCOLN'S CHARGE 213 the question. Whether the present condition of the Catholics is or is not to be denominated a perfect State of toleration, is more a controversy of words than things. That they are subject to some restraints, the bishop will admit : the important question is, whether or not these restraints are necessary ? For his lord- ship will, of course, allow, that every restraint upon human liberty is an evil in itself : and can only be jus- tified by the superior good which it can be shown to Sroduce. My lord's fears upon the subject of Catho- c emancipation are conveyed in the following para- graph : * It is a principle of our constitution, that the.king should have advisers in the discharge of every part of his royal functions— and is itto be imagined that Papists would advise measures in support of the cause of Protestantism ? A si- milar observation may be applied to the two Houses of Parliament : would Popish peers or Popish members of the House of Commons, enact laws for the security of the Pro- testant government ? Would they not rather repeal the whole Protestant code, and make Popery again the estab- lished religion of the country?'— (p. 14.) And these are the apprehensions which the clergy of the diocese have prayed my lord to make public. Kind Providence never sends an evil without a rem- edy : — and arithmetic is the natural cure for the pas- sion of fear. If a coward can be made to count his enemies, his terrors may be reasoned with, and he may think of ways and means of counteraction. Now, might it not have been expedient that the reverend prelate, before he had alarmed his country clergy with the idea of so large a measure as the repeal of Protes- tantism, should have counted up the probable number of Catholics who would be seated in both houses of Parliament ? Does he believe that there would be ten Catholic peers, and thirty Catholic commoners ? But, admit double that number, (and more, Dr. Duigenan himself would not ask,) — will the Bishop of Lincoln se- riously assert, that he thinks the whole Protestant code in danger of repeal from such an admixture of Catholic legislators as this ? Does he forget, amid the innumerable answers which may be made to such sort of apprehensions, what a picture he is drawing of the weakness and versatility of Protestant principles? — that an handful of Catholics, in the bosom of a Protes- tant legislature, is to overpower the ancient jealousies, the fixed opinions, the inveterate habits of twelve mil- lions of people? — that the king is to apostatize, the clergy to be silent, and the Parliament to be taken by surprise ? — that the nation is to go to bed over night, and to see the Pope walking arm in arm with Lord Castlereagh the next morning ? — One would really sup- pose, from the bishop's fears, that the civil defences of mankind were, like their military bulwarks, trans- ferred, by superior skill and courage, in a few hours, from the vanquished to the victor — that the distrac- tion of a church was like the blowing up of a mine, — deans, prebendaries, churchwardens and overseers, all up in the air in an instant. Does his lordship really imagine, when the mere dread of the Catholics becom- ing legislators has induced him to charge his clergy, and his agonized clergy, to extort from their prelate the publication of the charge, that the full and mature danger will produce less alarm than the distant suspi- cion of it has done in the present instance ? — that the Protestant writers, whose pens are now up to the fea- ther in ink, will at any future period, yield up their church without passion, pamphlet, or pugnacity ? We do not blame the Bishop of Lincon for being afraid ; but we blame him for not rendering his fears intelligi- ble and tangible — for not circumscribing and particu- larizing them by some individual case — for not show- ing us how it is possible that the Catholics (granting their intentions to be as bad as possible) should ever be able to ruin the Church of England. His lordship appears to be in a fog ? and as daylight breaks in upon him, he will be rather disposed to disown his panic. The noise he hears is not roaring, — but braying ; the teeth and the mane are all imaginary ; there is noth- ing but ears. It is not a lion that stops the way, but an ass. One method his lordship takes, in handling this ques- tion, is by pointing out dangers that are barely possible, and then treating of them as if the} deserved the ac- tive and present attention of serious men. But if no measure is to be carried into execution, and if no pro- vision is safe in which the minute inspection of an in- genious man cannot find the possibility of danger, then all inhuman action is impeded, and no human institu- tion is safe or commendable. The king has the power of pardoning, — and so every species of guilt may re- mam unpunished : he has a negative upon legislative acts, and so no law may pass. None but Presbyteri- ans may be returned to the House of Commons, — and so the Church of England may be voted down. The Scottish and Irish members may join together in both houses, and dissolve both unions. If probability is put out of sight, — and if, in the enumeration of dangers, it is sufficient to state any which, by remote con'tingen- cy, may happen, then it is time we should begin to provide against all the host of perils which we have just enumerated, and which are many of them as like- ly to happen, as those which the reverend prelate has stated in his charge. His lordship forgets that the Catholics are not asking for election but for elegibility — not to be admitted into the cabinet, but not to be excluded from it. A century may elapse before any Catholic actually becomes a member of the cabinet ; and no event can be more utterly destitute of probabil- ity, than that they should gain an ascendency there, and direct that ascendency against the Protestant in- terest. If the bishop really wishes to know upon what our security is founded ; — it is upon the prodigious and decided superiority of the Protestant interest in the Brit- ish nation, and in the United Parliament. No Protest- ant king would select such a cabinet, or countenance such measures ; no man would be mad enough to at- tempt them ; the English Parliament and the English people would not endure it for a moment. No man, indeed, under the sanctity of the mitre, would have ventured such an extravagant opinion. — Wo to him, if he had been only a dean. But, in spite of his venera- ble office, we must express our decided belief, that his lordship (by no means adverse to a good bargain) would not pay down five pounds, to receive fifty mil- lion for his posterity, whether the majority of the cabinet should be (Catholic emancipation carried) members of the Catholic religion. And. yet, upon such terrors as these, which, when put singly to him, his better senses would'laugh at, he has thought fit to ex- cite his clergy to petition, and done all in his power to increase the mass of hatred against the Catholics. It is true enough, as his lordship remarks, that events do not depend upon laws alone, but upon the wishes and intentions of those who administer these laws. But then his lordship totally puts out of sight two considerations — the improbability of Catholics ever reaching the highest offices of the state — and those fixed Protestant opmions of the country, which would render any attack upon the established church so hopeless and, therefore, so improbable. Admit a supposition (to us perfectly ludicrous, but still neces- sary to the bishop's argument), that the cabinet coun- cil consisted entirely of Catholics, we should even then have no more fear of their making the English people Catholics, than we should have of a cabinet of butchers making the Hindoos eat beef. The bishop has not stated the true and great security for any course of human actions. It is not the word of the law, nor the spirit of the government, but the general way of thinking among the people, especially when that way of thinking is ancient, exercised upon high interests, and connected with striking passages in his- tory. The Protestant church does not rest upon the little narrow foundations where the Bishop of Lincoln supposes it to be placed : if it did, it would not be worth saving. It rests upon the general opinion enter- tained by a free and reflecting people, that the doc- trines of the church are true, her pretensions moderate, and her exhortations useful. It is accepted by a peo- ple who have, from good taste, an abhorrence of sa- cerdotal mummery ; and from good sense, a dread of sacerdotal ambition. Those feelings, so generally diffused, and so clearly pronounced on all occasions, are our real bulwarks against the Catholic religion, and the real cause which makes it so safe for the best 214 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. friends of the church to diminish (by abolishing the test laws), so very fertile a source of hatred to the state. In the loth page of his lordship's charge, there is an argument of a very curious nature. ' Let us suppose,' (says the Bishop of Lincoln), « that there had been no test laws, no disabling statutes, in the year 1745, when an attempt was made to overthrow the Protestant government, and to place a popish sovereign up- on the throne of these kingdoms ; and' let us suppose, that the leading men in the houses of Parliament, that the min- isters of state, and the commanders of our armies, had then been Papists. Will any one contend, that that formidable rebellion, supported as it was by a foreign enemy, would have been resisted with the same zeal, and suppressed with the same facility, as when all the measures were planned and executed by sincere Protestants !' — (p. 15.) And so his lordship means to infer, that it would be foolish to abolish the laws against the Catholics now, because it would have been foolish to have abolished them at some other period ; — that a measure must be bad, because there was formerly a combination of cir- cumstances, when it would have been bad. His lord- ship might, with almost equal propriety, debate what ought to be done if Julius Caesar were about to make a descent upon our coasts ; or lament the impropriety of emancipating the Catholics, because the Spanish Armada was putting to sea. The fact is, that Julius Caesar is dead — the Spanish Armada was defeated in the reign of Queen Elizabeth — for half a century there has been no disputed succession — the situation of the world is changed — and, because it is changed, we can do now what we could not do then. And no- thing can be more lamentable than to see this respec- table prelate wasting his resources in putting imagin- ary and inapplicable cases, and reasoning upon their solution, as if they had anything to do with present affairs. These remarks entirely put an end to the common mode of arguing a Gulielmo. What did King William do ? — what would King William say? &c. King Wil- liam was in a very different situation from that in which we are placed. The whole world was in a very different situation. The great and glorious authors of the Revolution (as they are commonly denominated) acquired their greatness and glory, not by a supersti- tious reverence for inapplicable precedents, but by taking hold of present circumstances to lay a deep foundation for liberty ; and then using old names for new things, they left the Bishop of Lincoln, and other men, to suppose that they had been thinking all the time about ancestors. Another species of false reasoning, which pervades the Bishop of Lincoln's charge is this : He states what the interests of men are, and then takes it for granted that they will eagerly and actively pursue them ; laying totally out of the question the probabil- ity or improbability of their effecting their object, and the influence which this balance of chances must pro* dnoe upon their actions. For instance, it is the inte- rest of the Catholics that our church should be subser- vient to theirs. Therefore, says his lordship, the Catholics will enter into a conspiracy against the Eng- lish church. But, is it not also the decided inte- rest of his lordship's butler that he should be bishop, and the bishop his butler? That the crozier and the corkscrew should change hands, — and the washer of the bottles which they had emptied become the dio- cesan of learned divines ? What has prevented this change, so beneficial to the upper domestic, but the extreme improbability of success, if the attempt were made ; an improbability so great, that we will venture to say, the very notion of it has scarcely once entered into the understanding of the good man. Why, then, is the reverend prelate, who lives on so safely and con- tentedly with John, so dreadfully alarmed at the Cath- olics ? And why does he so completely forget, in their instance alone, that men do not merely strive to ob- tain a thing because it is good, but always mingle with the excellence of the object a consideration of the chance of gaining it. The Bishop of Lincoln (p. 19,) states it as an argu- ment against concession to the Catholics, that we have enjoyed l internal peace and entire freedom from all religious animosities and feuds, since the Revolution.' The fact, however, is not more certain than conclu- sive against his view of the question. For, since that period, the worship of the Church of England has been abolished in Scotland — the corporation and test acts repealed in Ireland — and the whole of this king's reign has been one series of concessions to the Catho- lics. Relaxation, then, (and we wish this had been remembered at the charge) of penal laws, on subjects of religious opinion, is perfectly compatible with inter- nal peace, and exemption from religious animosity. — But the bishop Is always fond of lurking in generals, and cautiously avoids coming to any specific instance of the dangers which he fears. ' It is declared in one of the 39 Articles, that the king is head of our church, without being subject to any foreign power ; and it is expressly said, that the Bishop of Rome has no jurisdiction within these realms. On the contrary, Papists assert, that the Pope is supreme head of the whole Christian church, and that allegiance is due to him from every individual member, in all spiritual matters. This di- rect opposition to one of the fundamental principles of the ecclesiastical part of our constitution, is alone sufficient to justify the exclusion of Papists from all situations of au- thority. They acknowledge, indeed, that obedience in ci- vil matters is due to the king. But cases must arise, in which civil and religious duties will clash ; and he knows but little of the influence of the Popish religion over the mind of its votaries, who doubts which of these duties would be sacrificed to the other. Moreover, the most subtle casuistry cannot always discriminate between temporal and spiritual things ; and in truth, the concerns of this life not unfrequently partake of both characters.' — (pp. 21, 22.) We deny entirely that any case can occur, where the exposition of a doctrine purely speculative, or the arrangement of a mere point of church discipline, can interfere with civil duties. The Roman Catholics are Irish and English citizens at this moment ; but no such case has occurred. There is no instance in which obedience to the civil magistrate has been prevented, by an acknowledgment of the spiritual supremacy of the pope. The Catholics have given (in an oath which we suspect the bishop never to have read) the most solemn pledge, that their submission to I heir spiritual ruler should never interfere with their civil obedience. The hypothesis of the Bishop of Lincoln is, that it must very often do so. The fact is that it has never done so. His lordship is extremely angry with the Catholics for refusing 10 the crown a veto upon the appointment of their bishops. He forgets, that in those countries of Eu- rope where the crown interferes with the appointment of bishops, the reigning monarch is a Catholic,— which makes all the difference. We sincerely wish that the Catholics would concede this point ; but we cannot be astonished at their reluctano* to admit the interfe- rence of a Protestant prince with their bishops. What would his lordship say to the interference of any Catholic power with the appointment of the English sees ? Next comes the stale and thousand times refuted charge against the Catholics, that they think the pope has the power of dethroning heretical kings ; and that it is the duty of every Catholic to use every possible means to root out and destroy heretics, &c. To all of which may be returned this one conclusive answer, that the Catholics are ready to deny these doctrines upon oath. And as the whole controversy is, whether the Catholics shall, by means of oaths, be excluded from certain offices in the state ; — those who contend that the continuance of these excluding oaths is essen- tial to the public safety, must admit, that oaths are binding upon Catholics, and a security to the state that what they swear to is true. It is right to keep these things in view — and to omit no opportunity of exposing and counteracting that spirit of intolerant zeal or intolerable time-serving, which has so long disgraced and endangered this country. But the "truth is, that we look upon this cause as already gained ; — and while we warmly con- gratulate the nation on the mighty step it has recently made towards increased power and entire security, it is impossible to avoid saying a word upon the humili MADAME D'EPINAY. 215 ating and disgusting, but at the same time most edify- ing spectacle, which has lately been exhibited by the anti-Catholic addressers. That so great a number of persons should have been found with such a proclivity to servitude (for honest bigotry had but little to do with the matter), as to rush forward with clamours in favour of intolerance, upon a mere surmise that this would be accounted as acceptable service by the pres- ent possessors of patronage and power, affords a more humiliating and discouraging picture of the present spirit of the country, than any thing else that has oc- curred in our remembrance. The edifying part of the spectacle is the contempt with which their officious devotions have been received by those whose favour they were intended to purchase, — and the universal scorn and derision with which they were regarded by independent men of all parties and persuasions. The catastrophe, we think, teaches two lessons ; — one to the time-servers themselves, not to obtrude their ser- vility on the government, till they have reasonable ground to think it is wanted; — and the other to the nation at large, not to imagine that a base and inter- ested clamour in favour of what is supposed to be agreeable to government, however loudly and exten- sively sounded, affords any indication at all, either of the general sense of the country, or even of what is actually contemplated by those in the administration of its affairs. The real sense of the country has been proved, on this occasion, to be directly against those who presumptuously held themselves out as its or- gans ; — and even the ministers have made a respecta- able figure, compared with those who assumed the character of their champions. MADAME D'EPINAY. (Edinburgh Review, 1818.) Memoires et Correspondence de Madame D'Epinay. 3 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1818. There used to be in Paris, under the ancient regime, a few women of brilliant talents, who violated all the common duties of life, and gave very pleasant little suppers. Among these supped and sinned Madame' d'Epinay — the friend and companion of Rousseau, Di- derot, Grimm, Holbach, and many other literary per- sons of distinction of that period. Her principal lover was Grimm ; with whom was deposited, written in feigned names, the history of her life. Grimm died— his secretary sold the history — the feigned names have been exchanged for the real ones — and her works now appear abridged in three volumes octavo. Madame d'Epinay, though far from an immaculate character, has something to say in palliation of her ir- regularities. Her husband behaved abominably ; and alienated, by a series of the most brutal injuries, an attachmeht which seems to have been very ardent and sincere, and which, with better treatment would probably have been lasting. For, in all her aberra- tions, Mad. d'Epinay seems to have had a tendency to be constant. Though extremely young when separa- rated from her husband, she indulged herself with but two lovers for the rest of her life ;— to the first of whom she seems to have been perfectly faithful, till he left her at the end of ten or twelve years ;--and to Grimm, by whom he was succeeded, she seems to have given no rival till the day of her death. The account of the life she led, both with her husband and her lovers, brings upon the scene a great variety of French characters, and lays open very completely the interior of French life and manners. But there are some letters and passages which ought not to have been published ; which a sense of common decency and morality ought to have suppressed ; and which, we feel assured, would never have seen the light in this country. A French woman seems almost always to have wanted the flavour of prohibition as a necessary con- diment to human life. The provided husband was re- jected, and the forbidden husband introduced in ambi- guous light, through posterns and secret partitions. It was not the union to one man that was objected to — for they dedicated themselves with a constancy which the most household and parturient woman in England could not exceed ; — but the thing wanted was the wrong man, the gentleman without the ring — the mas- ter unsworn to at the altar — the person unconsecrated by priests — 'Oh! let me taste thee unexcis'd by kings.' The following strikes us as a very lively picture of the ruin and extravagance of a fashionable house in a great metropolis. ' M. d'Epinay a complete son domestique. II a trois laquais, et moi deux ; je n'en ai pas voulu davantage. II a un valet de chambre ; et il vouloit aussi que je prisse une seconde femme, mais comme je n'en ai que faire, j'ai tenu bon. Enfin les officiers, les femmes, les valets se montent au nombre de seize. Quoique la vie que je mene soit aasez uniforme, j'espere n'etre pas obligee d'en changer. Celle de M. d'Epinay est difierente. Lorsqu'il est leve, son valet de chambre se met en devoir de l'accommoder. Deux la- quais sont debout d attendre ordres. Le premier secretaire vient avec l'intention de lui rendre compte des lettres qu'il a recues de son department, et qu'il est charge d'ouvrir ; il doit lire les reponses et les faire signer ; mais il est inter- rompu deux cents fois dans cette occupation par toutes sortes d'especes imaginables. C'est un maquignon qui a des chevaux uniques d vendre, mais qui sont retenus par un seigneur: ainsi il est venu pour ne pas manquer a sa parole; car on lui en donneroit le double, qu'on ne pourroit faire. II en fait une description seduisante, on demande le prix. Le seigneur un tel en offre soixante louis. — Je vous en donne cent.— Cela est inutile, a moins qu'il ne se dedise. Cependant Ton conclut a cent louis sans les avoir vus, car le lendemain le seigneur ne manque pas de se dedire: voild ce que j'ai vu et entendu la semaine derniere. ' Ensuite c'est un polisson qui vient brailler un ah-, et d qui on accorde sa protection pour le faire entrer a l'Opera, apres lui avoir donne quelques legons de bon gout, et lui avoir appris ce que c'est que la proprete du chant frangois; c'est une demoiselle qu'on fait attendre pour savoir si je suis encore Id. Je me leve et je m'en vais ; les deux laquais ouvrent les deux battans pour me laisser sortir, moi qui passerois alors par le trou d'une aiguille ; et les deux esta- fiers crient dans l'anti-chambre : Madame, messieurs, voild madame. Tout le monde se range en haie, et ces messieurs sont des marchands d'etoffes, des marchands d'instrumens, des bijoutiers, des colporteurs, des laquais, des decroteurs, des creanciers ; enfin tout ce que vous pouvez imaginer de plus ridicule et de plus affligeant. Midi ou une heure sonne avant que cette toilette soit achevee, et le secretaire, qui, sans doute, sait par experience l'impossibilite de rendre un compte detaille des affaires, a un petit bordereau qu'il remet entre les mains de son maitre pour l'instruire de ce qu'il doit dire a l'assemblee. Une autre fois il sort a pied ou en fiacre, rentre a deux heures, fait comme un bruleur de mai- son, dine tete a tete avec moi, ou admet en tiers son premier secretaire qui lui parle de la necessity de fixer chaque article de depense, de donner des delegations pour tel ou tel objet. La seule reponse est : Nous verrons cela. Ensuite il court le monde et les spectacles ; et il soupe en ville quand il n'a personne d souper chez lui. Je vois que mon temps de repos est fini.'— I. pp. 308—310. A very prominent person among the early friends of Madame d'Epinay, is Mademoiselle d'Ette, a woman of great French respectability, and circulating in the best society; and, as we are painting French manners, we shall make no apology to the serious part of our English readers, for inserting this sketch of her histo- ry and character by her own hand. 1 Je connois, me dit-elle ensuite, votre franchise et votre discretion : dites-moi naturellement quelle opinion on a de mois dans le monde. La meilleure, lui dis-je, et telle que vous ne pourriez la conserver si vous pratiquiez la morale que vous venez de me precher. Voild oii je vous attendois, me det-elle. Depuis dix ans que j'ai perdu ma mere, je fus seduite par le chevalier de Valory qui m'avoit vu, pour ainsi dire, elever ; mon extreme jeunesse et la confiance que j'avois en luine me permirent pas d'abord de me defier de ses vues. Je fus longtemps d m'en apercevoir, et lorsque je m'en apergus, j'avois pris tant de gout pour lui, queje n'eus pas la force de lui resister. II me vint des scrupules ; il les leva, en me promettant de m'epouser. II y travailla en etfet ; mais voyant l'opposition que sa famille y apportoit, d cause de la disproportion d'age et de mon peu de fortune ; et me trouvant, d'ailleurs, heureuse comme j'etors, je fus la premiere a etouffer mes scrupules, d'autant plus qu'il est assez pauvre. II commengoit d faire des reflexions, je lui proposal de continuer a vivre comme nous etions ; il l'accepta. Je quittai ma province, et je le suivis d Paris ; vous voyez comme j'y vis. Quatre fois la semaine il passe sa journee chez moi ; le reste du temps nous nous 216 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. contentons reciproquement d'apprendre de nos nouvelles, d moies que le hasard ne nous fasse rencontrer. Nous vivons heureux, contens ; peut-etre ne le serions nous pas tant si nous etions maries.'— I. pp. Ill, 112. This seems a very spirited, unincumbered way of passing through life ; and it is some comfort, therefore. to a matrimonial English reader, to find Mademoiselle d'Ette kicking the chevalier out of doors towards the end of the second volume. As it is a scene very edi- fying to rakes, and those who decry the happiness of the married state, we shall give it in the words of Ma- dame d'Epinay. 1 Une nuit, dont elle avert passe las plus grande partie dans l'inquietude, elle entre chez le chevalier : il dormoit; elle le reveille, s'assied sur son lit, et entame une explica- tion avec toute la violence et la fureur qui l'animoient. Le chevalier, apres avoir employe vainement, pour le calmer, tous les moyens que sa bonte naturelle lui suggera, lui signifia enfin tres-jJrecisement qu'il alloit se separer d'elle pour toujours, et fuir un enfer auquel il ne pouvoit plus tenir. Cette confidence, qui n'etoit pas faite pour l'appaiser, redoubla sa rage. Puisqu'il est ainsi, dit-elle, sortez tout a l'heure de chez moi; vous deviez parfir dans quatre jours, c'est vous rendre service de vous faire partir dans l'instant. Tout ce qui est ici m'appartient ; le bail est en mon nom : il ne me convient plus de vous souffrir chez moi : levez- vous, monsieur, et songez a ne rien emporter sans ma per- mission.'— II. pp. 193, 194. Our English method of asking leave to separate from Sir William Scott and Sir John Nicol is surely better than this. Any one who provides good dinners for clever peo- ple, and remembers what they say, cannot fail to write entertaining Memoires. Among the early friends of Madame d'Epinay was Jean Jacques Rousseau — she lived with him in considerable intimacy ; and no small part of her book is taken up with accounts of his eccen- tricity, insanity, and vice. f Nous avons debutee par V Engagement temeraire, comedie nouvelle, de M. Rousseau, ami de Francueil qui nous l'a presente. L'auteur a joue un role dans sa piece. Quoique ce ne soit qu'une comedie de societe, elle a eu un grand succes. Je doute cependant qu'elle put reussir au theatre ; inais c'est l'ouvrage d'un homme de beaucoup d'esprit, et peut-etre d'un homme singulier. Je ne sais pas trop ce- pendant si c'est ce que j'ai vu de l'auteur ou de la piece qui me fait juger ainsi. II est complimenteur sans etre poli, ou au moins sans en avoir l'air. II paroit ignorer les usages du monde; mais il est aise de voir qu'il a infiniment d'es- prit. II a le teint brun : et des yeux pleins de feu animent sa physionomie. Lorsqu'il a parle et qu'on le regarde, il f>aroit joli ; mais lorsqu'on se le rappelle, c'est touiours en aid. On dit qu'il est d'une mauvaise sante, et qu'il a des sounrances' qu'il. cache avec soin, parjene sais quel prin- cipe de vanite ; c'est apparemment cequi lui donne, de temps en temps, l'air farouche. M.deBellegarde, avec qui il a cause long-temps, ce matin, en est enchante, et Id engage a nous venir voir souvent. J'en suis bien aise; je me promets de profiter beaucoup de sa conversation.' — I. pp. 175, 176. Their friendship so formed, proceeded to a great degree of intimacy. Madame d'Epinay admired his genius, and provided him with hats and coats ; and, at last, was so far deluded by his declamations about the country, as to fit him up a little hermit cottage, where there were a great many birds, and a great many plants and flowers — and where Rousseau was, as might have been expected, supremely miserable. His friends from Paris did not come to see him. The postman, the butcher, and the baker, hate romantic scenery — duchesses and marchionesses were no longer found to scramble for him. Among the real inhabitants of the country, the reputation of reading and thinking is fatal to character ; and Jean Jacques cursed his own suc- cessful eloquence which had sent him from the suppers and flattery of Paris to smell to daffodils, watch spar- rows, or project idle saliva into the passing stream. Very few men who have gratified, and are gratify ing their vanity in a great metropolis, are qualified to quit it. Few have the plain sense to perceive, that they must soon inevitably be forgotten, — or the fortitude to bear it when they are. They represent to them- selves imaginary scenes of deploring friends and dis- pirited companions — but the ocean might as well re- gret the drops exhaled by the sun-beams. Life goes on ; and whether the absent have retired into a cottage or a grave, is much the same thing. — In London, as in law, de non apparentibus, et non existentibus eadem est ratio. This is the account Madame d'Epinay gives of Rousseau soon after he had retired into the hermitage. < J'ai ete il y a deux jours a la ChevTette, pour terminer quelques affaires avant de m'y etablir avec mes enfans. J'avois fait prevenir Rousseau de mon voyage: il est venu me voir. Je crois qu'il a besoin de ma presence, et que la solitude a deja agite sa bile. II se plaint de tout le monde. Diderot doit toujours aller, et ne va jamais le voir; M. Grimm le neglige ; le Baron d'Holbach l'ouble ; Gauffecourt et moi seulement avons encore des egards pour lui, dit-il ; j'ai voulu les justifier; cela n'a pas reussi. J'espere qu'il sera beaucoup plus a la Chevrette qu' a l'Hermitage. Je suis persuadee qu'il n'y a que facon de prendre cet homme pour le rendre heureux ; c'est de feindre de ne pas prendre garde a lui, et s'en- occuper sans cesse ; c'est pour cela que je n'insistai point pour le retenir, lorsqu'il m'eut dit qu'il vouloit s'en retourner a l'Hermitage, quoiqu'il fut tard et malgre le mauvais temps.' — II. pp. 253, 254. Jean Jacques Rousseau seems, as the reward of genius and fine writiug, to have claimed an exemption from all moral duties. He borrowed and begged, and never paid ; — put his children in a poor house — betray- ed his friends — insulted his benefactors — and was guil- ty of every species of meanness and mischief. His vanity was so great, that it was almost impossible to keep pace with it by any activity of attention ; and his suspicion of all mankind amounted nearly, if not altogether, to insanity. The following anecdote, how- ever, is totally clear of any symptom of derangement, and carries only the most rooted and disgusting selfish- ness. < Rousseau vous a done dit qu'il n'avoit pas porte son ouvrage a Paris ? II en a menti, car il n'a fait son voyage que pour cela. J'ai recu hier une lettre de Diderot, qui peint votre hermite comme si je le voyois. II a fait ces deux lieues a pied, est venu s'etablir chez Diderot sans l'avoir prevenu, le tout pour faire avec lui la revision de son ouvrage. Au point ou ils en etoient ensemble, vous conviendrez que cela est assez etrange. Je vois, par cer- tains mots echappes a mon ami dans sa lettre, qu'il a quel- que sujet de discussion entre eux ; mais comme il ne s'ex- plique point, je n'y comprends rien. Rousseau l'a tenu impitoyablement a l'ouvrage depuis le Samedi dix heures du matin jusqu'au Lundi onze heures du soir, sans lui don- ner a piene le temps de boire ni manger. La revision finie, Diderot cause avec lui d'un plan qu'il a dans la tete, prie Rousseau de l'aider a arranger un incident qui n'est pas encour trouve a sa fantaisie. Cela est trop difficile, repond froidement Thermite, il est tard, je ne suis point accoutume a veiller. Bon soir, je pars demain a six heures du matin, il est temps de dormir. II se leve, va se coucher, et laisse Diderot petrifie de son procede. Voila cet homme que vous croyez si penetre de vos lecons. Adjoutez a cette reflexion un propos singulier de la femme de Diderot, dont je vous prie de faire votre profit. Cette femme n'est qu'une bonne femme, mais elle a la tact juste. Voyant son mari desole le jour du depart de Rousseau, elle lui en demande la rai- son ; il la lui dit : C'est le manque de delicatesse de cet homme, ajoute-t-il, qui m'afflige ; il me fait travailler comme un manoeuvre, je ne m'en serois, je crois pas apercu, se il ne m'avoit refuse aussi sechement de s'occuper pourmoi un quart-d'heure.. .Vous etes etonne de cela, lui repond sa femme, vous ne le connoissez done pas ? II est devors d'envie ; il enrage quand il paroit quelque chose de beau qui n'est pas de lui. On lui verra faire un jour quelques grands forfaits plutot que de se laisser ignorer. Tenez, je ne jurerois pas qu'il nese'rangeat du parti des Jesuites, et qu'il n'enterprit leur apologie.' — III. pp. 60, 61. The horror which Diderot ultimately conceived for him, is strongly expressed in the following letter to Grimm — written after an interview which compelled him, with many pangs, to renounce all intercourse with a man who had, for years^ been the object of his tenderest and most partial feelings. « Cet homme est un forcen£. Je l'ai vu, je lui ai re- proche avec toute la force que donne l'honnetete et une sorte d'interet qui reste au fond du cceur d'un ami qui lui est devoue depuis long-temps, l'enormite de sa conduite ; les pleurs versus aux pieds de madame d'Epinay, dans le moment meme ou il la chargeoit pres de moi des accusations les plus graves ; cette odieuse apologie qu'il vous a en- voyee, et ou il n'y pas une seule, des'raisons qu'il avoit a dire ; cette lettre projectee pour Saint-Lambert, qui devoit le tranquilliser sur des sentimens qu'il se reprochoit, et ou, loin d'avouer une passion nee dans son cceur malgre lui, il MADAME D'EPINAY. 217 6'excuse d'avoir, alarms Madame d'Houdetot sur la sienne. Que sais-je encore ? Je ne suis point content de ses res- ponses ; je n'ai pas eu le courage de le lui temigner j'ai mieux aime lui laisser la miserable consolation de croire qu'il m'a trompe. Qu'il vive ! II a mis dans sa defense un importement, froid qui m'a afflige. J'ai peur qu'il ne soit endurci. « Adieu, mon ami ; soyons et continuohs d'etre honne- tes gens : l'etat de ceux qui ont cesse de l'etre me fait peur. Adieu, mon ami ; je vous embrasse bien tendrement Je ne jette dans vos bras comme un homme effraye ; je ta- cbe en vain de faire de la poesie, mais cet homme me revi- ent tout a travers mon travail ; il me trouble, et je suis comme si j'avois a cote de moi un damne ; il est damne, cela est sur. Adieu mon ami Grimm, voila Pellet que je ferois sur vous, si je devenois jamais un mediant : en verite, j'aimerois mieux etre mort. II n'y a peut-etre pas le sens commun dans tout ce que je vous ecris, mais je vous avoue que je n'ai jamois eprouve un trouble d'ame si terrible que celu que j'ai. i < >h ! mon ami, quel spectacle que celui d'un homme mechant et bourrele ! Brdlez, dechirez ce papier, qu'il ne retombe plus sous vos yeux ; que je ne revoie plus cet hom- me la, il me feroit croire aux diables et a l'enfer. Si je suis jamais force de retourner chez lui, je suis sur que je fremiraitout lelong du chemin : j'avois la fievre en reve- nant. Je suis fache de ne lui avoir pas laisse voir Phorreur qu'il m'inspiroit, et je ne me reconcilie avec moi qu'en pensant, que vous, avectoute voire fermete, vous ne Pau- riez pas pu a ma place ; je ne sais pas pas s'il ne m'auroit pas me. On entendoit ses cris jusqu'au bout du jardin ; et jelevoyois! Adieu, mon ami, j'irai demain vous voir; j'irai chercher un homme de bien, aupres duquel je m'as- seye, qui me rassure, et qui chasse de mon ame je ne sais quoi d'infernal qui la tourmente et qui s'y est attache. Les poetes on bien fait de mettre un intervalle immense entre le ciel et les enfer. En verite, la main me tremble.' — III. pp. 148, 149. Madame d'Epinay lived, as we before observed, with many persons of great celebrity. We could not help smiling, among many others, at this anecdote of our countryman. David Hume. At the beginning of his splendid career of fame and fashion at Paris, the historian was persuaded to appear in the character of a sultan ; and was placed on a sofa between two of the most beautiful women of Paris, who acted for that evening the part of inexorables, whose favour he was supposed to be soliciting. The absurdity of this scene can easily be conceived. 'Le celebre David Hume, grand et gros historiographe d'Angleterre, connu et estime par ses ecrits, n'a pas autant de talens pour ce genre d'amusemens auquel toures nos jolies femmes l'avoient decide propre. II fit son debut, chez Madame de T* * * ; on lui avoit destine le role d'un sultan assis entre deux esclaves, employant toute son elo- quence pour s'en faire aimer ; les trouvant inexorables, il devoit chercher le sujet de leurs peines et de leur resist- ance : on le place sur un sopha entre les deux plus jolies femmes de Paris, il les regarde attentivement, il se frappe le ventre et les genoux a plusieurs reprises, et ne trouve jamais autre chose a leur dire que : Eh bien '. mes demoi- selles. . . . Eh bien ! vous voila done. . . . Eh bien I vous voila. . . . vous voila ici 7 . . . . Cette phrase dura un quart d'heure, sans qu'il put en sortir. Une d'elles se leva d'impatience : Ah • dit-elle, je m'en etois bien dou- tee, cet homme n'est bon qu'a manger du veau ! Depuis ce temps il est relegue au role de spectateur, et n'en est pas moms fete et cajole. C'est en verite une chose plaisante que le role qu'il joue ici ; malheureusement pour lui, ou plutot pour la dignite philosophique, car, pour lui, il paroit s'accommoder fort de ce train de vie ; il n'y avoit aucune manie dominante dans ce pays lorsqu'il y est arrive ; on Pa regarde comme une trouvaille dans cette circonstance, et l'effervesence de nos jeunestetes s'est tournee de son cote. Toutes les jolies femmes s'en sont emparees ; il est de tous les soupers fins, et il n'est point de bonne fete sans lui : en un mot, il est pour nos agreables ce que les Genevois sont pour moi.'— III. pp. 284, 285. There is always some man, of whom the human viscera stand in greater dread than of any other per- son, who is supposed, for the time being, to be the only person who can dart his pill into their inmost re- cesses , and bind them over, in medical recognizance, to assimilate and digest. In the Trojan war, Podali- rius and Machaon were what Dr. Baillie and Sir Henry Halford now are — they had the fashionable practice of the Greek camp ; and, in all probability, received ma- ny a guinea from Agamemnon dear to Jove, and Nes- tor the tamer of horses. In the time of Madame d'Epinay, Dr. Tronchin, of Geneva, was in vogue, and no lady of fashion could recover without writing to him, or seeing him in person. To the Esculapius of this very small and irritable republic, Madame d'Epi- nay repaired ; and, after a struggle between life and death, and Dr. Tronchin, recovered her health. Dur- ing her residence at Geneva, she became acquainted with Voltaire, of whom she has left the following ad- mirable and original account — the truth, talent, and simplicity of which, are not a little enhanced by the tone of adulation or abuse which has been so generally employed in speaking of this celebrated person. ' Eh bien ! mon ami, je n'aimerois pas a vivre de suite avec lui ; il n'a mil principe arrete, il compte trop sur sa memoire, et il en abuse souvent ; je trouve qu'elle fait trot quelquefois a sa conversation ; il redit plus qu'il ne dit, et ne laisse jamais rien a faire aux autres. II ne sait point causer, et il humilie l'amour-propre ; il dit le pour et le contre, tant qu'on veut, toujours avec de nouvelles graces a la verite, et neanmoius il a toujours fair de se moquer de tout, jusqu'a lui-meme. II n'a nulle philosophic dans la t£te ; il est tout herisse de petits preju£s d'enfans ; on les lui passeroit peut-etre en faveur de ses graces, du brillant de son esprit et de son originulite, s'il ne s'affichoit pas pour les sacouer tous. II a des inconsequences plaisantes, et il est au milieu de tout cela tres-amusaut a voir. Mais je n'aime point les gens qui ne font que m'amuser. Pour madame sa niece, elle est tout-a-fait comique. ' II paroit ici depuis quelques jours un livre qui a vivernent echauffe les tetes, et qui cause des discussions fort interessan- tes entre differentes personnes de ce pays, parce que Ton pre- tend que la constitution de leur gouvernment y est interessee : Voltaire s'y trouve mele pour des propos assez vifs qu'il a tenu a ce sujet contre les pretres. La grosse niece trouve fort mauvais que tous les magistrats n'ayent pas pris fait et cause pour son oncle. Elle jette tour a tour ses grosses mains et ses petits bras par dessus sa tete, maudissant avec des cris inhu- mains les lois, les republiques, et surtout ces polissons de re- publicans qui vont a pied, qui sont obliges de souftrir les cri- ailleries de leurs pretres, etqui se croient libres. Cela est tout- a-fait bon a entendre et a voir.' — III. pp. 196, 197. Madame d'Epinay was certainly a woman of very considerable talent. *Rousseau accuses her of writing bad plays and romances. This may be ; but her epis- tolary style is excellent — her remarks on passing events lively, acute, and solid — and her delineation of char- acter admirable. As a proof this, we shall give her portrait of the Marquis de Croismare, one of the friends of Diderot and the Baron d'Holbach. ' Je lui crois soixante ans ; il ne les paroit pourtant pas. II est d'une taille mediocre, sa figure a du etre tres-agreablc : elle se distingue encore par un air de noblesse et d'aisance. qui repand de la grace sur tout sa personne. Sa physionomie a de la finesse. Ses gestes, ses attitudes ne sont jamais recher- ches ; mais ils sont si bien d'accord avec la tournue de son ( s- prit, qu'ils semblent ajouter a son originalite. II parle des choses les plus serieuses et les plus importantes d'un ton si gai, qu'on est souvent tente de r>e rien croire de ce qu'il dit. On n'a presque jamais rien a citer de ce qu'on lui entend dire ; mais lorsqu'il parle, on ne veut rien perdre de ce qu'il dit ; s'il se tait, on desire qu'l parle encore. Sa prodigieuse vivacite, et une singuliere aptitude a toutes sortes ae talens et de con- noissances, l'ont porte a tout voir et a tout connoitre ; au mo- yen de quoi vous comprenez qu'il est fort instruit. II a bien lu, bien vu, et n'a retenu que ce qui valoit la peine de l'etre. Son esprit annonce d'abord plus d'agrement que de solidite, mais je crois que quiconque le jugeroit frivole lui feroit trot. Je le soupconne de renfermer dans son cabinet les epines des roses qu'il distribue dans la societe : assez constannnent gai dans le monde, seul je. le crois melancolique. On dit qu'il a l'ame aussi tendre qu'honnete ; qu'il sent vivement et qu'il se livre avec impetuosite a ce qui trouvre le chemin de son ccEur. Tout le monde ne lui plait pas ; il faut pour cela de l'original- ite, ou des vertus distinguees, ou de certains vices qu'il appelle passions ; neanmoins dans le courant de la vie, il s'accommode de tout. Beaucoup de curiosite et de la facilite dans le carac- tere (ce qui va jusqu'a la foiblesse) l'entrainent souvent a negliger ses meilleurs amis et a less perdre de vue, pour se livrer a des gouts factices et passagers : il en rit avec eux ; mais on voit si clairement qu'il en rougit avec lui-meme, qu'on ne peut lui savoir mauvais gre de ses disparates.'— III. pp. 324 —326. The portrait of Grimm, the French Boswell, vol. iii. p. 97, is equally good, if not superior; but we have al- ready extracted enough to show the nature of the work, and the talents of the author. It is a lively entertaining book,— relating in an agreeable manner the opinions and habits of many remarkable men—- 218 vVORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. mingled with some very scandalous and improper pas- sages, which degrade the Avhole work. But if all the decencies and delicacies of life were in one scale, and five francs in the other, what French bookseller would feel a single moment of doubt in making his selec- tion? POOR LAWS. (Edinburgh Review, 1S21.) 1. Safe Method for rendering Income arising from Personal Property available to the Poor-Laws. Longman & Co. 1319. 2. Summary Review of the Report and Evidence relative to the Poor-Laws. By S. W. Nicol. York. 3. Essay on the Practicability of modifying the Poor-Laws. Sherwood. 1819. 4. Considerations on the Poor-Laws. By John Davison, A.M. Oxford. Our readers, we fear, will require some apology for being asked to look at anything upon the poor-laws. No subject, we admit, can be more disagreeable, or more trite. But, unfortunately, it is tbe most impor- tant subject which the distressed state of the country is now crowding upon our notice. A pamphlet on the poor-laws generally contains some little piece of favourite nonsense, by which we are gravely told this enormous evil may be perfectly cured. The first gentleman recommends little gar- dens ; the second cows ; the third a village shop ; the fourth a spade ; the fifth Dr. Bell, and so forth. Eve- ry man rushes to the press with his small morsel of imbecility ; and is not easy till he sees his imperti- nence stitched in blue covers. In this list of absurdi- ties, we must not forget the project of supporting the poor from national funds, or, in other words, of im- mediately doubling the expenditure, and introducing every possible abuse into the administration of it. Then there are worthy men, who call upon gentle- men of fortune and education to become overseers — meaning, we suppose, that the present overseers are to perform the higher duties of men of fortune. Then merit is up as the test of relief; and their worships are to enter into a long examination of the life and character of each applicant, assisted, as they doubt- less would be, by candid overseers, and neighbours divested of every feeling of malice and partiality. The children are next to be taken from their parents, and lodged in immense pedagogueries of several acres each, where they are to be carefully secluded from those fathers and mothers they are commanded to jbey and honour, and are to be brought up in virtue oy the church wardens. — And this is grauely intended as a corrective of the poor-laws ; as if (to pass over the many other objections which might be made to it,) it would not set mankind populating faster than car- penters and bricklayers could cover in their children, or separate twigs to be bound into rods for their fla- gellation. An extension of the poor-laws to personal property is also talked of. We shall be very glad to see any species of property exempted from these laws, but have no wish that any which is now exempted should \,», subjected to their influence. The case would infallibly be like that of the income tax — the more easily the tax was raised the more profligate would be the expenditure. It is proposed also that alehouses should be diminished, and that the children of the poor should be catechized publicly in the church, both very respectable and proper suggestions, but of themselves hardly strong enough for the evil. We have every wish that the poor should accustom them- selves to habits of sobriety ; but we cannot help re- flecting, sometimes, that an alehouse is the only place where a poor tired creature, haunted with every spe- cies of wretchedness, can purchase three or four times a year three pennyworth of ale — a liquor upon which wine-drinking moralists are always extremely severe. We must not forget, among other nostrums, the eulogy of small farms — in other words, of small capital, and profound ignorance in the arts of agriculture ; and the evil is also thought to be curable by periodical con- tributions from men who have nothing, and can earn nothing without charity. To one of these plans, and perhaps the most plausible, Mr. Nicol has stated in the following passage, objections that are applicable to almost all the rest. • The district school would no doubt be well superintended and well regulated , magistrates and country gentlemen would be its visitors. The more excellent the establishment, the greater the mischief; because the greater the expense. We may talk what we will of economy, but where the care of the poor is taken exclusively into the hands of the rich, compara- tive extravagance is the necessary consequence : to say that the gentleman, or even the overseer, would never permit the poor to live at the district school, as they live at home, is say- ing far too Httle. English humanity will never see the poor in any thing like want, when that want is palpably and visibly brought before it : first, it will give necessaries, next comforts ; until its fostering care rather pampers, than merely relieves. The humanity itself is highly laudable ; but if practised on an extensive scale, its consequences must entail an almost unlim- ited expenditure. 'Mr. Locke computes that the labour of a child from 3 to 14, being set against its nourishment and teaching, the result would be exoneration of the parish from expense. Nothing could prove more decisively the incompetency of the board of trade to advise on this question. Of the productive labour of the workhouse, I shall have to speak hereafter ; I will only ob- serve in this place, that after the greatest care and attention bestowed on the subject, after expensive looms purchased, &c, the 50 boys of the blue coat school earned in the year 1816, 5