Page images
PDF
EPUB

vourites during the reign of James VI., but even the tithes of the whole other lands were given away to the retainers of the court with the most unbounded profusion-reserving only a mere competency for one person to serve the cure in each parish, and which, at the high value of money in those days, and the austere lives of the reformed ministers, amounted to but a small sum. In this way the titulars (many of whom derive thousands yearly from this source) and the ministers may be compared to a commonwealth of bees, where the industrious and active little insects having collected and laid up stores of honey, the large and lazy drones fall and fatten upon it. But the bees manage the matter in the long run better than the church, inasmuch as the bees act on the principle of common sense and common justice, that they who won't work are not permitted to eat."

question in the manse, and he tells all who are in this
unhappy condition "to take a thought and mend."
But who, he adds, inquiringly, "is a confirmed bache-
lor, and where is he to be found? He is that solitary,
melancholic, and monkish man, which is the most to
be pitied of all living beings at the manse. But take
his own word for it, and the confirmed bachelor is no
more to be met with than a mermaid is; for nobody
takes the compliment to himself, or will allow it to be
given to him. While the matter is doubtful, and so
long as a gleam of hope tells the flattering tale of joys
never to come, the grey-haired squire boasts of the
appellation, and plays off his jokes with dexterity in
defence of his own order; but ask the unmarried man
of fourscore years, How old art thou? and he will
blink the question. Advise him to marry, and he will
admit that he has not given up thoughts of it; and
he is always the most earnest in urging his young
friends to take a wife.

·

you need scarcely ask any questions of the cow-dealer as to these matters, unless you know him, because your doing so will only tempt him to heap one falsehood on another as long as the conversation lasts. You must make your eyes your merchant, and take your chance of all contingencies." As to finding food for the cow, manage to have as much pasture as will afford her a full bite for the summer; and with respect to winter fodder, buy it any where but by personal appearance at an auction of growing crops. "Attending a roup is not a very becoming position for the minister of a parish. Besides, it is cold, sometimes wet, and always idle or tiresome; and as for bidding for any article, that is entirely out of the question, because the moment you lift a lip, a sort of persuasionary feeling goes round, that the poor man should be helped at the cost of the minister, who wins his money by the wind o' Our friend is here a little out in his explanations; his mouth.' By way of keeping up the fun, as they for the purpose to which the church property was oricall it, one man acts the part of white bonnet,' and ginally assigned, is not compatible in all its extent But whether you be a confirmed bachelor, or one another whispers into the minister's lug to stand to with the reformed model: but let that pass. Bad as merely for a year or two by a concurrence of untoward it, as the lot is far under value. Instead of attending the heritors are, in the author's opinion, they are per- circumstances, the word of command is- Go marry, a public roup, to be both cheated and laughed at, emfect lambs in comparison with the Commissioners of sir;' and know, before you die, what the words com- ploy one of the elders, or a canny cautious neighbour." Teinds, who allocate the stipends, and whose decisions fort, and kindly feelings, and clerical economy, mean. A few pages further on, we find the very reasonable are all, as he says, founded on the belief that a church Be selfish and recluse no longer, but give your affec- recommendation-"Let every manse have, at least, is always best established on the rock of poverty, and tions, and a portion of your worldly means, to one twenty stone Dutch of bacon hams and pickled pork that the only plan for ensuring "a pure kirk is to have who will double your joys, and divide all your sorrows. every year; it may be thirty." These comforts he a poor kirk" a saying which, he thinks, may be a Instead of misspending these on birds, cats, and dogs-proposes to obtain at the very moderate "expenditure very good joke, but is any thing but good logic to a great and small, black, white, and spotted-select an of half-a-dozen bolls of potatoes at the utmost, and of parish minister on a trifle under three pounds a-week. object more worthy of it than four-footed animals and L.1 or 30s. for meal." But you must look to the proWith a salutary horror of an appeal to such person- creeping things. Instead of yawning over a book as per management of the pig, and not only give him his ages, he counsels great caution in the attack, whether your dumb and daily companion, smile rather on the meals regularly, but keep him in the nicest state of for a rise of another chalder of stipend, or a new manse. faces of a blooming and joyous family, as the only way cleanliness. "Show an economist the pig, and in one “A minister should be well advised before he takes to make home a place of rest and happiness. Furnish moment he knows how all is going on at the manse. legal steps to enforce an augmentation of stipend, that your manse as you may with easy chairs, sofas, and ❘ If he hears it squealing, and sees it climbing the stone is, in the present spirit of the times. The measures settees have a vapour, a shower, and a plunge bath, walls, and labouring to turn up the pavement, he are, in nine cases out of ten, very rashly gone about. cold, warm, or tepid—have a snug porch, and a green knows that the poor animal has not got its breakfast, It should be managed, if possible, at home in the mean- door, with a fan light, and a stove in the lobby, with just because there was no breakfast made ready to time. It should be set about a year or two before the a flue of heated air up the main staircase to the top give it. Let an eye be cast into its bedstead, and he period expires; and it should even be delayed a year have a roaring fire in the parlour every morning will find it so wet and dirty, that the creature is comafter, rather than give the blow. The heritors should before breakfast, with all sorts of antique fire-screens, pelled to sit shivering in a corner, till rheumatism, be plied individually, and by their own firesides. They large and little-have a fiddle, a solitaire, a tobacco- crinkets, and death itself, close the career; this is should not be driven to an absolute refusal, because, pipe, or a set of stocking-wires, to vary your occupa- not only cruelty, but cruelty worthy of a savage. If after giving one, they will keep by it. They should be tions-when you go for an hour to snuff up the east he find grumphy so lazy that nothing but a stroke tried once and again, and, after all, they should get a wind, put on your cork soles, overalls, and dreadnought will raise him, and lying among clean dry straw in little of their own way; and, above every thing, the-go to bed at midnight, or long after it, and rise far great plenty-if he find him large, fat, and long in all minister should not startle them by urging unreason- on in the afternoon, when the day has been well aired his proportions but his nose- -then the visiter may able demands. After the matter has been brought to have all this, and four times more; but still, my depend on having a good fat ham as part of his dinner, an amicable adjustment, a mutual minute should be good friend, so long as you want THE WIFE, there is and well-aired sheets on his bed"-a hint which, we entered into, and the Teind Court merely required a coldness, a formality, and a prim correct sort of hope, will not be lost on pig-keepers. to give a legal sanction to it. A minister, upon the bachelorism in the whole affair, which, happily, is whole, should rather trust to the tender mercies of never to be found when there are three or four boys his own heritors, cruel as their tender mercies often romping about. Children may occasion many cares, are, and poor and greedy as some of them may be, but without them there are few real comforts. Little than to the domineering fiats of the Court of Teinds." children are as arrows in the hands of a mighty man. He upholds that the generally limited stipends are Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them. scandalous in the extreme, considering how much the He shall not be ashamed, but shall speak with the heritors retain on no principle of justice, and that enemies in the gate.' Nay, children bring not only there should be, at all events, "ten or twelve livings their pleasure, mixed with care, but more solid advanworth L.1200 or L.1500 a-year, as pinnacles to which tages; they become, very soon, so many assistants and men of superior talents and activity might aspire. props to the parents, who, when old age comes on, are The dead-level system of sixteen chalders is like the amply repaid for all the toil and all the anxiety the Dead Sea, in which the fish can hardly live." family have occasioned in their infancy."

Having finished his preliminary advices on these ticklish points, our author proceeds to the more enlarged object of his work-house furnishing and management in all their details, marriage, education of a family, management of the glebe, buying and keeping a horse, live stock, and so forth; all which is described in a business sort of way, and, we doubt not, will have due effect on young and somewhat heedless ministers in their new and trying situation. As to furniture, he says " In furnishing the manse, count well the cost, and the funds on hand or in prospect. Buy almost every thing new and of good quality; for here, as in every thing else, the best is the best pennyworth. But take care not to purchase more than you can manage to pay. If prudence require it, furnish only one spare bed-room, your own sleeping apartment, and the parlour, with all the indispensable necessaries of the kitchen. These any minister may pay out of his first term's stipend; and these may see him over his first sacrament in a way far more respectable than with a houseful of unpaid furniture. Then, again, the dining-room may be furnished-that is, carpets, chairs, and table, and sideboard too-if it can be overtaken: and the best bed-room, leaving, of course, the drawing-room to be furnished at the sight and with the advice of the wife"-good advices to others besides clergymen.

He by no means recommends bachelorhood, and for various weighty reasons. First, a bachelor is not master of his own house. "It might be worth while for somebody to calculate, by duly weighing the real facts, what influence any man has over his own establishment, or rather, to try to ascertain whether he has any at all. It is obvious to every penetrating eye, that the bachelors have no more to say at home than one of their own hens. In the presence of strangers, the bachelor has generally the advantage; but at times, as much occurs as intimates that the point is as far from being settled as the boundary lines between the Canadas and the United States. How the matter goes on when they are left by themselves, none of them has ever told." Married men, he continues, have not all their own way; but, from affection and interest, they are differently situated; they generally give up one-half of the authority to their wives, knowing well, that if they don't, they may lose the whole." Bachelorhood is altogether out of the

66

This panegyric on matrimony leads to the very natural question-" Who should a minister marry? One somewhat of a minister's own station in life and age? Most undoubtedly. With money? Yes, as a mean, but not as an end. A wife who brings one hundred pounds a-year, and spends two, is not a profitable bargain. One penny in the wife is often better than two with her. A wife of your own flock? It may do tolerably well if the minister be endowed, and the lady wealthy; but, otherwise, it often proves hazardous. Above and beyond every thing, don't let the minister of a royal burgh cleave unto an old residenter in his own town. If he does, he will not have his sorrows to seek, inasmuch as he will find himself harnessed at once and for ever to every dishmaclarer for the last fifty years, and to all the family feuds within the royalty, and to all the personal and party politics of a small constituency."

Talking of house affairs, he comes to the delicate subject of visiting and being visited, and recommends his brethren to be any thing but shabby in the way of giving "a party" within reasonable bounds. "Let no minister," says he, "be stingy enough to accept of dinners, unless he gives them in return as often as he can conveniently afford it." Much may be done, he thinks, by proper economy of liquors, which are always the most expensive thing in these affairs. He says that no minister should "ape a variety of wines: let him be thankful if he can muster, on an occasion of this kind, good sherry and port." As to who should be invited to his parties, why, the greater portion of his "brethren and their families; for nothing is more truly contemptible than for a minister to try to play the little colonel in a country side; if he does, he is sure to be despised by his own order, and laughed at by that of every other."

Our reverend economist discusses the question of a dairy, and, on the whole, advises keeping at any rate one cow; but the buying of the animal must be carefully gone about, dealers in the article being little better than horse-jockeys. If the minister venture upon the business himself, cows may be exhibited ; but "either they are not good milkers and go all to beef, or they are in danger every time at the calving; or they give a reaming handful of rich milk, and then kick it over with their foot; or they break fences, or break the binding, and gore their neighbour. But

Having now presented a tolerably varied specimen of "Clerical Economics," we can only add that, as embracing much that is exceedingly useful to residents in the country, of whatever profession, and being evidently the production of an amiable and intelligent man, deserving of better things than fortune has brought to his door, we cordially recommend it to public support.

BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES.

PATRICK HENRY, THE ORATOR. SECOND only to Washington in the estimation of the people of the North American union, at the era of their Revolution, stood Patrick Henry, usually called The Orator of Virginia. In Hanover County, in that colony, he first saw the light on the 29th of May 1736. His father kept a grammar-school of the humbler order; and in this seminary did young Henry acquire the rudiments of Latin, which, with a slight tincture of mathematics, formed the extent of his regular education. In his boyhood, he is said to have shown a strong aversion to study, preferring greatly to indulge in the sports of the forest, the hill, and the lake, and almost always following such pursuits alone. But it was also observed of him, by the more sharpsighted, that the quickness of his perceptions, and strength of his memory, made up in a great measure for the want of the power of close application; and that no remark of any importance could be made in his presence without being retained on his mind, heedless as he might at the time seem to be. On the whole, however, he was regarded by most people as an indo lent and unpromising boy; and, his love of solitude having induced careless habits as to dress and demeanour, no external qualities appeared in him to redeem his other deficiencies.

As he was one of a family of nine children, his parents were glad to get him placed behind the counter of a small store-shop, in a country village. Thence he emerged at a very early age, and prematurely commenced business for himself. The speculation was entered on almost without capital, and soon proved unfortunate, partly, it is related, because, in place of studying the wishes of his customers, Henry took into his head the fancy of studying their characters. The knowledge which he thus acquired of human nature might enable him in after days to wield at will the fierce democracy, but it was ill calculated to improve his temporary fortunes. These were rendered still less promising by his falling in love with a Miss Shelton, and marrying her, at the age of eighteen, she being as poorly provided with funds as himself. Nevertheless, on the failure of the mercantile concern, the friends of the young pair raised a sufficiency of money to place them in a small farm, with two negroes as helps. It is admitted that Henry toiled here in a manner deserving of success; but he was ignorant of farming affairs, and was weighed down by previous debts. Two years passed away, and found

George the Third-may profit by their example. If
this be treason, make the most of it."

The resolutions of Henry involved, as has been said,
the principle of independence; but the critical struggle
did not immediately follow. It was only brought on by
the tea affair at Boston in 1774. The subject of our
memoir was then startled anew by the armies which
Britain was silently collecting in the Canadas. He
thundered forth to the Virginian legislature a speech
which rang through the whole colonies like the sum-
mons of a new Demosthenes-" Let us march against
Philip; let us conquer or die!" He called for an
armed organisation, and, pointing to the British forces
in the north, he demanded what enemies Great Bri-
tain had in America to require and employ these.
"She has none," he himself replied. "They are meant
for us; they can be meant for no other. They are
sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which
the British ministry have so long been forging. And
what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argu-
ment? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten
years. We have done every thing which could be
done to avert the storm which is coming on. We have
petitioned we have remonstrated-we have suppli-
cated-we have prostrated ourselves before the throne,
and have implored its interposition to arrest the
tyrannical hands of the ministry and the parliament.
Our petitions have been slighted-our remonstrances
have produced additional violence and insult-our
supplications have been disregarded-and we have
been spurned with contempt from the foot of the
throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge
the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is
no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free
if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable
privileges for which we have been so long contending
if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle
in which we have been so long engaged, and which we
have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the
glorious object of our contest shall be obtained-we
must fight! I repeat it, sir-we must fight!

him again a ruined man; nor was a second mercantile the sole right of the colony to tax itself, being a virtual
attempt one whit more successful than the former.
declaration of independence. The torrent of eloquence
Burdened with a family, overwhelmed by pecuniary which Henry poured forth in support of these resolu-
engagements, and set down by all as a man doomed tions bore down all opposition, and they were carried
to misfortune, Patrick Henry, now twenty-four years by a majority of one. We have but one sentence
of age, might almost have been pardoned for sinking left to show us what the speech of Henry was. It is
into despondency. But this was not in his nature. a sentence equally marked by power and self-posses-
Though others, strangely enough, seem not as yet to sion. In the midst of his invective he exclaimed,
have descried in him the marks of a powerful intel- "Cæsar had his Brutus-Charles the First his Crom-
lect, he himself certainly felt the sustaining conscious- well-and George the Third" (" Treason!" cried the
ness that he did possess powers, for the development speaker, and “Treason!” was re-echoed on all sides)—
of which opportunity alone was required. The direc- "Yes," continued Henry, never faltering for a mo-
tion in which he turned his thoughts at this criticalment, and fixing an eye of fire on the speaker, "and
period, sufficiently shows that he even had a glim-
mering internal sense of what was his greatest gift.
He resolved to become a candidate for the bar. After
six weeks' preparation, he presented himself before
the three examiners, whose signatures were preli-
minary to a call, and two of them signed for him,
apparently out of mere good nature. But the third,
Mr John Randolph, a polished man of the old school,
revolted so much at the rough and uncouth appearance
of the candidate, that he refused even to examine him.
Being at length induced to do so, he received a very
great surprise indeed. On a mooted point of law,
Henry, guided by the force, simply, of natural reason,
not only astonished the examiner by the acuteness of
his views and the splendour of his illustrations, but
even caught the great lawyer tripping, as a reference
to authorities proved. Randolph confessed his error,
and generously predicted a career of fame and honour
for Henry, if his industry proved equal to his genius.
Notwithstanding this encouraging prognostication,
three years of penury were yet in store for the pa-
tronless Henry; and during this interval he was
reduced to live with his father-in-law, in whose small
inn he was not infrequently necessitated to fulfil a
waiter's duties. But from this humiliating position
he wanted only the aid of occasion to extricate him,
and, almost accidentally, the occasion at length was
granted to him. The Virginian clergy and their
parishioners had a quarrel, which ultimately resolved
itself into a question of damages. The clergy, much
better supported than their opponents, seemed to
be certain of casting the people in heavy costs. The
advocate for the people became disheartened, and
threw up the case; and Patrick Henry, almost as
a last resource, was engaged in his stead. The day
of his first appearance was every way a trying one.
On the bench of the court sat not only the judges,
but a large body of clergymen, the most learned men
of the province; and the house itself was crowded
by an eager multitude. As if to try the young
advocate even more, his own father was present in
an official capacity. After a clear and able address
for the clergy, Patrick Henry rose. Well, at that
moment, might he have felt in imagination the hands
of his little children tugging at his gown, as Lord
Erskine says he did on a similar occasion. The
appearance of Henry was not calculated to prepossess
his hearers in his favour, nor did such an effect result
from his opening sentences. On the contrary, they
fell so flatly from his lips, that the clergy began to
nod and leer at each other, and the speaker's father
hung down his head. But the scene soon changed.
"As Henry warmed (to use the language of one of
his biographers), he seemed to shed his nature—the
rustic shell fell from him-his person seemed to
undergo a mystical transformation-his mien became
majestic-his eye flashed fire-the tones of his voice
fell directly upon the heart-and he stood before his
mute and vassal auditory, a creature of inspiration.
The effect was incredible. Appalled by the fury of one
of his terrible invectives, the clergy fled affrighted
from the bench; and the jury, obedient to his bidding,
returned a verdict of one penny damages." This
memorable speech gave a proverbial phrase to Vir-
ginia, where a specially good speaker is still talked of
as "being almost equal to Patrick Henry when he
pleaded against the parsons."

[ocr errors]

|

#

*

*

I know not what course others may take; but as for me (cried he, his arms raised aloft, his brow knit, and his whole frame as if on fire with the enthusiasm which inflamed him), give me liberty, or give me death!" These heart-stirring passages show, that, though Henry's delivery may have been as magically impressive as it is said to have been, yet his oratory rested not for its effect on that charm alone.

Patrick Henry's speech threw Virginia into arms, and decided the character of the coming contest, giving it a warlike complexion. Nor did he hesitate to follow up his words by acts. At the Virginian capital of Williamsburgh, twenty barrels of gunpowder were taken from the state by orders of Lord Dunmore, in order to cripple their means. Henry instantly stepped forward, harangued the people of Newcastle, and soon after marched upon Williamsburgh at the head of a large force. Lord Dunmore was forced to submit, and make full restitution. When the contest fairly broke out, the subject of our memoir headed the first warlike operations in Virginia, and received a high command in the army. Some slight led him to resign, but he was even more usefully employed in the government of Virginia, which he held three several times. His countrymen would have elected him again, but, jealous even of his own assumption of a monopoly of honours, the patriot firmly refused. When peace was established, Henry confirmed the high opinions of his statesmanship, which he had earned by his provincial management, by the share he took in laying the foundations of the new republic. More particularly did he show at once his wisdom and his humanity by coming forward, in the face of the most bitter opposition, to advocate the recall of the British refugees. This conduct was the more peculiarly honourable to him, as his fortunes had suffered so severely during the seventeen years' turmoil, that he was com

Few orators, indeed, from Demosthenes down to our greatest moderns, have blazed forth in the perfection of their powers on their first trial. But Henry was the orator of nature, and to him art and practice were unnecessary. During his whole life, natural sense and genius, not acquired knowledge, guided him. After his opening display, he removed to Louisa county, and, carrying his reputation with him, received a large share of the somewhat meagre practice of these courts. His professional exertions of this era can only be spoken of generally, but, by all accounts, they were surprisingly brilliant. The verdicts of juriespelled, at the age of fifty, to quit public life, and and the applause of judges, testify to this fact. But the time came when Patrick Henry was to step into a mightier arena, and employ his energies on a cause of almost unparalleled magnitude and importance. Immediately after the obnoxious Stamp Act of 1764-65 had spread a ferment among the North American colonists, Henry, at that time almost adored by the people, among whom he was ever proud to rank himself, was elected a member of the Legislature of Virginia. During the whole of the ensuing short sitting, Henry seems to have waited in the expectation that the deepening murmurs of the people would find condensed expression by some voice more authoritative than his own; but the boldest were content to sit in gloomy silence. At length, "alone, unadvised, and unassisted," as he himself tells us, Henry determined to step forth; and he proposed, in May 1765, his famous Five Resolutions, one of which asserted

return to the bar. The speech pronounced by him
on this occasion is a model of subdued and reflective
eloquence. His peroration said to the Assembly
"Discard from your bosoms fears so groundless and
prejudices so disgraceful-unfetter commerce-let her
be free as air; depend upon it, she will range the
whole creation, and return on the wings of the four
winds of heaven to bless the land with plenty." His
proposition was carried, and its beneficial effects were
soon seen in the peopling of the yet untrodden wilds
of the country.

argue the negative by the Virginians involved; and his speech, which lasted for a whole day, would alone suffice to prove that the commanding order of his intellect was the real source of Henry's success. His main argument was, that the British confiscated and ruined all opposed to them as far as they were able. But we are to view Henry as an employed lawyer here. Ilis advocacy of the recall of the British shows how little illiberality there really lay in his own heart.

Henry stepped out again on the floor of the Virginian Assembly, to which the mere wish introduced him at will, when the new constitution was proposed. He was a sincere republican, and not even his deep regard for Washington could prevent him from feeling and expressing alarm at the creation of a presidentship. He beheld in such an officer but a disguised monarch, and trembled at the danger that might arise from the power and favour of an army. He was unsuccessful in his opposition in the Virginian senate, but, sincere in his sentiments, he stood a candidate for and obtained a seat in the National Congress, determined still to oppose it there. But, though his mental energies were unimpaired, his health had now begun to fail, and ere the congress met, Patrick Henry was in his grave. He expired on the 6th of June, 1799. In the year before he died, it may be mentioned, Bonaparte had overthrown a series of Austrian armies, and Henry was heard confidently to predict the occurrence in France of what he dreaded even in his own more steady country. If Washington nobly falsified his fears, Bonaparte fully proved his prophetic foresight.

Every successive step which Patrick Henry took in his course through life, showed him to be no ephemeral upshoot of an hour, but a great-minded and great-hearted being, fitted, in spite of defects in his early opportunities, to exercise a comprehensive influence on his age. He must ever rank among the great founders of American liberty. No man can be named, indeed, who so directly contributed to nurse the spirit which led to that mighty and important issue. His high position was at the time marked by an English journalist who sneered at the American struggle as a revolution attempted by "a small farmer, a petty lawyer, and a journeyman printer"-Washington, Henry, and Franklin !

VISIT TO THE MORAVIAN ESTABLISHMENTS ON THE CONTINENT. THE modest and useful Protestant body who take the name of the United Brethren, but are more generally called Moravians, originated early in the last century amongst the descendants of some of those Bohemians who had rallied round John Huss and Jerome of Prague. Obliged by persecution to leave their own country, they wandered into Germany, and one considerable party found refuge at Berthelsdorf in Upper Lusatia, under the protection of a nobleman, Count Zinzendorf, who had long entertained a desire to establish a religious community in imitation of the Christian congregations of apostolic times. Here commenced, in 1727, the celebrated colony of Herrnhut, to which Zinzendorf in time gave up his whole property, and which, in the progress of time, has become the parent of a considerable number of similar establishments in continental Europe, in England, and in America. The Moravians are orthodox evangelical Protestants; but they are not so anxious about speculative points in divinity, or questions as to polity and discipline, as to see the gospel working its proper effects upon individual character. Their communities are associations in which some of the members are, with respect to worldly matters, independent, while others work in subserviency to a general interest, the whole being morally and religiously under one set of regulations. They have contributed in a very remarkable manner to the missionary cause, their chief settlements of that nature being in South Africa, the West Indies, Labrador, and Greenland. It is remarked that, wherever they have penetrated among heathen nations, they have wrought surprising changes in the habits of the people, introducing the social arrangements and industrious operations of the civilised world, as well as the superior light of the Christian faith.

In the summer of 1841, the individual now addressing the public paid a visit to some of the principal Moravian establishments on the Continent, for the purpose of satisfying himself as to the extent to which the plan of a community was followed amongst them, and the success which attended it. To proceed in the first person:-" I was anxious to obtain light upon this point, for the benefit of an association of benevolent persons who have planned a self-supporting institution, on the combination principle, in connexion with the Church of England. Having been furnished with letters of introduction by the Rev. Peter Latrobe, I first visited the settlement at Neuwied, near Coblentz, on the Rhine-a small town founded a century ago as a refuge for persecuted persons of various religious denominations, and where the Moravians are So high was the reputation of Henry, that within about four hundred in number. In the absence of six years after his return to the bar, he was enabled Bishop Gambs, M. Merian, a chief director, and the to retire with an ample independence. Some of his inspector of the schools, conducted me over the estabspeeches of this era have been preserved, and more lishment. We first visited the boys' school, which particularly one on the question whether British sub-consists of a number of light airy apartments, each jects were entitled to the payment of debts contracted appropriated to a distinct class. The boys, seventy to them before the war. Henry was employed to in number, sleep in one large well-ventilated room, in

which a lamp is suspended from the centre, and in which the teachers also sleep, one of whom sits up on watch all night. We then proceeded to the house occupied by the unmarried men. It is here necessary to mention that, in all the continental Moravian establishments, the unmarried men and unmarried women live in separate houses, each party by themselves, and each under the care of an elder of the appropriate sex; and the two parties have only limited opportunities of forming those acquaintances on which matrimonial unions depend. I found eighty men in this part of the establishment, all of them engaged in various employments, at which they wrought in subserviency to the general body. In one room, an individual was making up tippets and muffs, his favourite occupation. In another, one was making gloves, stocks, and boys' caps. In others were three, four, and sometimes more, making clothes, shoes, soap, candles, earthenware stoves, and other useful articles. Elsewhere, I found carpentry, cabinet-work, baking, and a large brewery. Every trade has a manager, receiving a fixed salary, and to whom money is advanced for the purchase of materials and the payment of wages. There are also shops for the sale of miscellaneous articles to the public, and a hotel for the accommodation of such as choose to resort to it. Besides the brethren of the congregation, there are servants who do not belong to it, and who receive ordinary wages. Great care is taken in seleeting these persons, and every effort is made to effect their spiritual improvement. The profits arising from the trades, shops, hotel, and school, are partly devoted to the support of the church and its

missions.

[ocr errors]

Mr Roderer to Nisky, a settlement twenty miles off,
where there is a large and well-conducted academy
for boys, besides the usual establishment for the useful
arts. The education is here so far advanced, that the
boys may be directly transferred to the Moravian
University at Guadenfeld, in Upper Silesia, where
preparation for the ministry is completed.
From Herrnhut I afterwards proceeded to Klein-
welke near Bautzen, where there is a congregation of
about four hundred. The same trades were carried
on here as at Herrnhut, with rather more of agricul-
ture; but the chief interest at this place was in the
schools for the children of the missionaries-between
forty and fifty boys, and about the same number of
girls. Many were orphans, whose parents had fallen
victims to the climate in which they had preached the
gospel. I never saw any boarding-school in England
where the children were more comfortably provided
for in every respect, or appeared so happy; separate
rooms were appropriated to the different classes; and
here, as in all the other schools, the children sleep
singly. As we visited the different classes, the good
pastor Ultsh seemed to take pleasure in referring to
the widely-separated parts of the globe in which the
children had been born; pointing to each in succession,
he said, "from Labrador," "from Africa," "from
Surinam," "from Greenland," "from the West In-
dies," &c. At Kleinwelke, twenty-five of the brethren
work at an establishment for making church bells,
belonging to Mr Ghrul, who is not of the congregation.
The last settlement I had an opportunity of seeing
was that of Zeist, near Utrecht, in Holland, where
the number of members is about four hundred. Be-
sides the same description of trades and manufactures
as at other stations, there are seven or eight shops or
rooms, in which a great variety of articles are sold, in
addition to those made at the establishment, as well
as two boarding-schools for boys and girls: profit is
also derived from letting some of the apartments to
respectable individuals not belonging to the congrega-
tion. The Rev. P. Raillard accompanied me through
the sisters' house and schools, and I could not but
remark the great regard and respect every where
evinced towards him; and, indeed, in all the settle-
ments, I was impressed with the idea, that the pastor
or bishop at the head of the establishment appeared
to be precisely that individual best qualified by his in-
telligence, kind feelings, and manners, for the highest
office.

From the Brothers' House we went to that of the anmarried Sisters, of whom there are about a hundred. Here also was a well-conducted school for girls. The sisters not engaged in education were at work in separate rooms, from six to ten in each, making articles either for the establishment or for sale to the public. There is a room in which the latter class of articles are kept for public view. Letting of apartments to approved tenants, not of the congregation, is also a source of profit. In the Brothers' and Sisters' Houses respectively, there is a large room fitted up for public worship, with a small organ or some other musical instrument. Connected with each department, there is also a room set apart for reading when the labour of the day is done. I may here observe that the Moravians, probably from From what has been stated, it must be obvious that ancestral taste, are fond of music, and introduce it on there are only some details common to all the Morasome occasions when other people would think it in-vian settlements. Agreeing in the general principle appropriate, as, for instance, at funerals. All amuse- of combining for the purpose of promoting their own ments which usually occasion a promiscuous assem- spiritual improvement and the planting of Christianity blage of the sexes-as balls, plays, and games-are in the uncivilised parts of the globe, all their regulaforbidden. tions, and, as much as possible, all their temporal affairs, are made subservient to these important ends. As to the mode or degree in which this is effected, much depends upon local and other circumstances, the capabilities and probable success of the brethren in their respective trades, the wants of the neighbourhood, and how far they can meet the competition of external society. For instance, at Herrnhut there is no boarding-school, for they have there no educator equal to M. Schordan at Nisky; to which place, accordingly, many children are sent from Herrnhut. At Nisky, situated in a remote and desolate country, where few strangers are seen, two shops are scantily though sufficiently supplied; while at Zeist, in the centre of a highly civilised and populous country, and much visited, there are no less than seven or eight shops for the sale of numerous articles, besides those made on the spot.

From Neuwied I proceeded to Herrnhut, the metropolis, as I may call it, of the United Brethren. It is situated fifty miles beyond Dresden, on the southern face of a hill called Huttberg; hence its name. The population is about 1400, of whom more than twothirds belong to the congregation. It is the place where the synods, or chief directing assemblies of the brethren, are held, and where all their missionary proceedings originate. Bishop Huffel, upon whom I first called, was too infirm to attend me; but the deficiency was supplied by Mr John F. Roderer, chief financier, a brother-in-law of Mr Latrobe, by whom I was introduced to Bishop Anders, and M. Frauerf,

one of the chief directors.

Besides the trades carried on at Neuwied, I here found a large tan-yard, and manufactures in iron and brass, goldsmiths' work, and button-making; also a considerable mercantile establishment, conducted, under the firm of Abraham Durminger and Company, by three brethren, who each receive a salary. There is also a small day-school.

The business of giving lodging and hotel accommodation is carried on as at Neuwied. In the Sisters' House, I found a scale of four different prices for boarding, and a charge for lodging according to the size of the room for those who desire one exclusively. The hotel was conducted upon a respectable scale. I found in it a Livonian nobleman, of gentlemanlike deportment and well-cultivated mind, Baron Arderkas, who told me that he had lived there three years. He enlivened a few of my evenings by his tasteful performances on the piano-forte. No one, however, is allowed to lodge in the establishment at Herrnhut, not even in the hotel, without the permission of the congregation.

This may be considered as the most interesting of the Moravian establishments, as being more remote from general society, and having greater attractions and advantages than the more recent and less isolated settlements. The avenues, and the cemetry situated on a hill on the way to the observatory, which occupies a still higher eminence commanding an extensive and beautiful prospect-the house, formerly the residence of Count Zinzendorf, containing the archives of the body, and a museum of curiosities sent home by the missionaries the extensive gardens open to the public, and an adjacent hill laid out in walks and plantations, with rustic and ornamental seats, from which delightful prospects are beheld-conspire to heighten the charms of this peaceful settlement. The musical band is here more complete than elsewhere, and occasionally the congregation is summoned to church by trumpets played from one of the upper windows of the building. Ďuring my residence at Herrnhut, I rode over with

The most striking feature in all the proceedings of the United Brethren, is the intimate connexion that subsists between religion and secular affairs; the former is never lost sight of, but, on the contrary, is constantly the governing principle, and is visible in their intercourse with each other. In all new undertakings, in all changes, or when any misunderstanding arises, a conference is called of the bishop or pastor, the wardens and managers. Hence, in every measure proposed, its bearing upon the interests of religion is the chief consideration. Thus, all that concerns the members, of whatever age, individually or collectively, commercial pursuits, amusements, schools-in short, all the transactions of life--are brought under the immediate direction and control of religion. This plan, at once simple and comprehensive, becomes easy of execution; any unforeseen counteracting influence is in general soon corrected; and, when adopted at the missionary stations, renders them more efficient, and enables the brethren to make great progress with very limited resources.

There is a German phrase signifying "prayer and labour," which seems to characterise the Moravian settlements, and singularly applicable to the brethren is the remark of Locke-that "for a man to attend to his religion and to his particular calling, is generally sufficient to take up his whole time." Habitually occupied in their several trades, they become unconscious of that monotony which is felt by a stranger-relieved, however, in some degree, by the cultivation of music. There appears to be no public library, nor much encouragement given to scientific pursuits and discoveries. These might involve expense, and prevent that concentration of mind to the one great object to which all their thoughts and energies are devoted. But I would remark, with reference to my own object, that that very omission to which the brethren may

have been in some measure indebted for extraordinary success in a specific and most important branch of Christian duties, renders the Moravian settlement imperfect as the model of a Christian community embracing all the legitimate objects of human society. The study of the sciences, the practice of the arts, and the prosecution of discoveries, present an inexhaustible field for the exercise of the diversified talents of mankind, and for that enterprise and excitement which, if not called forth by purer and higher aspirations, are too often wasted upon objects useless or pernicious. * * *

more

[Our correspondent goes on to draw various inferences from the Moravian establishments with regard to the design of a self-supporting institution for the humbler classes in England, in connexion with the Established Church. We do not think it necessary to follow him in these, but would remark, that great caution is necessary in all imitative movements. A revolution in 1658 succeeds in England; but an imitative revolution attempted in Naples in 1823 fails. The Moravian communities, as far as they really are communities, have taken their rise under the influence of a concentrated religious zeal affecting a small body of men to the very inmost cores of their nature. They have thus had an active and powerful principle of continuous force to carry them on through all arrangements and undertakings. We can easily conceive a new association realising all the peculiar arrangements of the Moravians, and even favourably circumstanced with regard to wealth and the countenance of great names, but which would nevertheless fall for lack of that concentrated spirit which only extraordinary circumstances and occasions can generate. Here, evidently, lies the great difference between the Moravian communities and those social establishments which Mr Owen has endeavoured to plant. The one class seem to us like a body which, having a vital principle in it, can stand of itself; the other is like a body which, wanting life, can only stand while it is held up by external means. The plan of our amiable correspondent is based on truly respectable principles, and contemplates excellent objects; but we would hope that it will not be commenced unless its supporters are sure of its having the full benefit, not only of money and good intention, but of that self-sustaining energy which so often brings success in circumstances otherwise unfavourable, and without which all common circumstances of a favourable nature are in vain.]

A BULL-FIGHT AT MADRID. In the year 1822, while resident in Madrid, I had frequent opportunities of seeing those savage exhibitions, the bull-fights, of which the Spaniards, notwithstanding their partial regeneration, still continue to be passionately fond. For their own sake, such spectacles are not worthy of description, but they serve as records of national manners, to be contrasted with something better in our own country, and I will venture to depict one of the exhibitions at which I chose to be present.

The place of the spectacle was at the amphitheatre, situated beyond the Puerta del Sol, one of the outlets from the city. The edifice is formed of wood, of a circular form, having no roof, and seated quite round, except at the place where the bulls are kept: these seats are somewhat like pews, those for the people of the highest rank being nearest the top of the building. The place in which the bulls are kept is a cellar under ground, whence the ascent to the arena is by a dark passage, with two doors, one at the end of the passage, and the other opening on the arena; and these doors, at the entrance of the bull, are opened by men in such a manner as completely to cover their persons.

Several days before the exhibition takes place, the bulls are confined in the cellar; and during the interval, are occasionally soundly whipped, in order that they may be rendered still more ferocious than they might otherwise be. Bulls for this purpose, at Madrid, generally come from the wilds between La Sierra Morena (the Black Mountain) and La Mancha.

On the day spoken of, the king, the court, all the grandees, and their ladies, were present, so that a most favourable opportunity was afforded me of seeing whatever Madrid boasted of beauty, rank, and fashion, more especially as my seat was in the very highest row. The first paleos (boxes) were adorned by some of the handsomest dark-eyed ladies that could be seen in Spain, their rich basquinas and mantillas (a particular dress for Spanish ladies) being worn with infinite grace. An immense deal of ceremony takes place before the real business of the day commences. Exactly opposite to the door by which the bull enters, the box of the king is placed, and of course the highest is allotted for the purpose. Should the king be absent, the highest in authority, whether civil or military, takes his place. Civil officers are appointed to give orders to those having charge of the bulls. The principal magistrate, attended by two alguazils (inferior officers of justice), having ascertained that every thing is ready, comes forward in front of the box occupied by the authorities, and, after a formal salutation, requests leave to proceed with the enter tainment. This being accorded him, he goes out of the ring, and gives the signal; immediately the two folding-doors fly open, and a bull rushes furiously into the arena; but, upon seeing the assembled multitude,

he makes a pause, and looks around, as if seeking some object on which to spend his rage. The picadors, attired in the ancient Spanish dress, are stationed on horseback, lance in hand, at the part of the ring which faces the bull's entrance. On this occasion an Asturian damsel was acting as a picadora, the only difference between her and the others consisting in this, that in place of stopping the bull with the lance, she used large darts, which she threw at him with great dexterity.

On the occasion of which I am speaking, the first bull which rushed into the arena glared with savage bewilderment, and roared prodigiously. The Asturian was the first to present herself before him, and adroitly fixing one of her darts in his shoulder, galloped round, the bull running towards her. Rapidly returning to the charge, she again planted another piece of iron in his neck; but, whilst endeavouring to treat him to a similar enlivener for the third time, the bull plunged his horns into the belly of her horse, and tossed horse and woman to a great height. They fell as if dead; and while the bull was endeavouring, amid the applause of the multitude, to put a finish to what he had so well commenced, the banderilleros (young men on foot, dressed in a red cloak, and armed with darts of wood, shod with iron at the one end, and having a squib at the other, which takes fire on being fixed), with their red cloaks, came to distract his attention, and gave the woman an opportunity to escape.

A general shout of "Bueno! bueno! vira el toro!" (Bravo! bravo! long live the bull!) was thundered in the amphitheatre, while the woman and the horse were being removed from the arena. The woman had her right leg broken.

The first attacking party being thus off the field, the next picador advanced towards the enraged animal; the bull sprung forward at him, but he was arrested by the lance; however, he returned to the charge before the horse could face about, and fixing his horns between the horse's thighs, tossed him in the air, and overthrew the rider. Instantly the banderilleros again appeared, and horse and man were removed.

A third picador offered battle to the bull, who, rushing at him, was stopped by a lance firmly planted in the shoulders; in vain did the bull try to overcome his antagonist by pressing upon him, while the steel was in his body; every effort only served to fix the lance the deeper, till at last he disentangled himself by drawing back, which, in the estimation of the Spaniards, is a very cowardly thing. They manifested their disapprobation by loud cries, and forthwith, to excite the unfortunate animal, the banderilleros threw their darts at him. The poor bull was quite mad ; the same picador again stopped the beast; he was very weak from loss of blood, and therefore offered little resistance to the attack. Unable to combat, the time for the matadors to dispatch him soon came. The first matador (literally, murderer), holding in his left hand the moleta (muller), and in his right the sword, drew near him; and the very instant when the animal rushed towards him, he made his allonge, the sword being directed to the heart; the creature staggered, but was not dead. The turn of the second matador now came, and this official soon gave a blow by which the animal fell lifeless to the ground. The moment the poor creature fell at the feet of the second matador, trumpets were heard, and four mules entered to drag the carcass from the arena.

I might describe the various combats which took place with the different bulls; but as, with very little difference, one narration may serve for all, I shall confine myself to relating a ludicrous circumstance that happened in the fight with the fifth animal brought into the arena. This toro was very successful in disabling the several opponents he had to encounter. The three first picadors were all more or less injured; and of their horses, one had his legs broken, and the two others were ripped up by the enraged brute. At such excessive good fortune on the part of the bull, the applause of the Spaniards was boundless. A French drummer, sitting on the lowest bench, and who was tipsy at the time, annoyed at so many being forced to retire before the bull, leaped the barrier separating the arena from the spectators, and went staggering to set the bull at defiance. Mingled roars of laughter, and cries of "Long live the drummer!" struck upon the ear. Meantime the man advanced as well as he could, putting himself in a fencing attitude, apparently forgetful, however, that his sabre was hanging by his side.

The bull rushed towards him, and while the drummer appeared desirous of boxing his ears, he was forced, from the effects of the liquor he had taken, to measure the length of his back on the ground. The scene now became amusing in the extreme. Stretched on the sand lay the luckless drummer, moving his feet to whatever direction the bull made the attack, and making a multitude of ejaculations each time that his enemy came to an unpleasant propinquity; though the danger was more apparent than real, as, owing to his antagonist not being able to bring his horns sufficiently low to do him serious injury, he was scarcely touched. The animal, after trying to toss the recumbent drummer, contented himself with simply smelling at him; and then, seeing that nothing could be done, retreated several steps, being obliged to do so by the flashing of the red cloaks of the banderilleros, who came to succour the inebriated com

batant. The drummer was quickly removed, almost did this physician, a candidate for professional distinction unhurt, though his antagonist was not so fortunate, and professional success, require that his innate talents, for, after having received several lances, he was dis- his hard-earned knowledge, his worldly tact, should be bolstered up by the aid of riches to procure the eminence patched by the unerring dagger of the matador. What must appear to the spectator the cruelest he aimed at? No. Cheyne was the architect of his own fortune. "In 1809 he settled in Dublin, neither expectpart of this exciting spectacle, is the manner in which ing nor indeed wishing for rapid advancement. What is the poor horses are treated, Their eyes bandaged, easily acquired is little valued, and often soon lost. He they are subjected to the unsparing control of their had a few friends, who were much dissatisfied with his riders; they are forced, even when wounded, to conapparent apathy, and the obscurity in which he lived. tinue to minister to the gratification of an anxious During the first six months of his sojourn in Dublin, he and sanguinary crowd. No relaxation is afforded made only three guineas. In 1816, Cheyne's practice them; and till nature, entirely exhausted, refuses them yielded him L.1710; in 1820, and for ten successive years, strength to remain any longer standing, they are it was L.5000." Did Dr Cheyne feel now that fame was obliged to bear their part in this brutal entertain-happiness, that eminence was happiness, that riches are happiness? Was he not ready to acknowledge, with ment. Young, that "the wish accomplished is the grave of bliss "-Hayden's Physiology.

No man can reflect on the character induced by the continued indulgence in these amusements, without attributing to their influence a considerable part of the disregard for human life always manifested by the Spaniards. The circumstance of frequently beholding the blood of the noblest animals shed without remorse, for no useful end, at last must lead to an entire contempt for the shedding of human blood. The surprise, therefore, that one at first feels on hearing of the atrocities perpetrated during the late civil war in Spain by the several factions, must disappear when one of the principal causes is assigned.

LINES ON OPENING A CASKET. Oh! none would covet jewellery, Or scenes where jewels shine, If every casket's treasured hoard Told such a tale as mine. A bracelet-of my father's hair, A locket-of a brother's,

A brooch-memorial of despair,

A guard-chain-of my mother's.
Rings, fans, and hearts, unfitly gay,
From friends estranged or far away;
That spotless agate cross was given
By one who now finds rest in heaven;
And long we've wept the matron staid,
Who gave yon locket's raven braid:
Memorials all, save one alone

Of grief, of death, of friendship flown!
Grey is the lock that bracelet bears,

But thought, not time, had made it so;
For in the strength of mind and years
Was that thrice-honour'd head laid low!
This locket's golden silky tress,

It waved once on a cherub's head,
Lent but to cherish and to bless-
Soon was its angel mission sped:
Through the stain'd crystal still appear
A sister's kiss, a mother's tear!
The auburn lock, it graced a brow
Bright in the majesty of truth;
That, too, is pillow'd lowly now,

And with it rests the dream of youth!
My mother's hair-she lives, and long,
Long may she live, loving, beloved!
But this fair chain was twined, ere wrong
Or woe her widow'd heart had proved;
And thus, even this becomes the theme
Of life's uncertainty and change-
The heartlessness of fashion's stream,

The void of miscall'd pleasure's range!
"Twere well if all vain ornament
Such grave and tender warning sent;
Then would life's giddy vanity
Be temper'd with fond memory;
And few would covet ornament
Or scenes where trinkets shine,
If every body's jewels sent
A lesson sad as mine!

L. F. C.

BENEVOLENCE OF THE MEDICAL PROFESSION.

[We cordially coincide in the foregoing observations on the benevolence of the medical profession, the members of which, as far as our knowledge goes in Edinburgh, are decidedly the most benevolent portion of the community. Their cheerful and gratuitous attendance on the destitute poor, their labours at hospitals and dispensaries, and the intrepid manner in which in many cases they incur great personal danger from contagion, without the hope of reward, all merit the highest meed of public approbation.]

AMERICAN MANNERS.

[ocr errors]

I had long heard of the impertinent curiosity, rudeness, vulgarity, and selfishness of the people of the States; but, instead of any extraordinary signs of these repulsive qualities, I found good breeding, politeness, frank hospitality, and very generous feeling, prevailing amongst them, in as great a degree and with as few exceptions as at home. In the cities I saw none of the open displays of depravity which disfigure our large towns; and in all my journeying I never saw the face of a policeman-never met a beggar or any one in the garb of mendicity-never heard uttered an oath or imprecation--and never witnessed an instance of intoxication but one. * I observed, when at Albany, that the Americans are attentive to their religious duties, and this opinion has been confirmed by a further acquaintance with them. One does not meet here with any pretension to the high fushion bred in courts and pervading their atmospheres; but exclude this from the comparison, and, between the States and England, there will be found, in private society, such a resemblance of manners, as for the moment makes a Briton forget he is not in his own country; or if that shall be called to his mind, it will probably be by a difference only in the personal appearance in the natives of the two countries. Captain Barclay's Tour.

-

EXALTATION OF CRIMINALS.

The sympathy lavished by misdirected benevolence on persons convicted of hideous crimes, who, if they had remained in virtuous poverty, would have excited no sort of attention, is one of the most odious things which we are called on to notice. A correspondent of the Times, styling himself "No Pharisee," thus feelingly and sensibly treats of the subject:-"It appears that, in most instances, criminals are better fed and lodged in prisons than the honest and well-disposed poor in the union workhouses. The police reports almost daily show that the poor have begun to appreciate the difference; and now, if a pauper wishes to be better fed and lodged and cared for than he would be in the workhouse, he forthwith commits some offence to entitle him to the indulgences to be obtained by crime. The perverted taste and spurious sentiment which divert that commiseration and sympathy to criminals, which would find ample room for their exercise among the well-disposed and industrious, but unfortunate, are calculated to produce the worst results; and it has become a serious inquiry to ascertain whether these causes have not had considerable influence in increasing the amount of crime in this country. If a vicious girl, precocious in crime, attempts to set fire to the dwelling in which she has been provided with a good home It is a remarkable circumstance, that, without referring through charity, when brought for examination, she is to more distant quarters, the cardinal points of Dublin surrounded by a crowd of well-dressed tender-hearted afford striking and permanent illustrations of the philan- dames, who are quite shocked that so interesting an object The founders of the following should be thought worthy of punishment, and urgently thropy of medical men. hospitals, Sir Patrick Dun's on the east, Stephen's on the solicit her release. If a ruffian should commit a crime so west, and the Rotunda on the north, were physicians; atrocious that it degrades our national character, and while the medical officers of the Meath Dublin County strikes with horror the feelings of the right-thinking porInfirmary on the south, voluntarily transferred their tion of society, it happens, when he is brought to justice, salaries to the funds of the hospital. Doctor Lentaigne that the public expect daily reports in the papers of the was so liberal of his professional services, that he was day of how he ate and how he slept, what he drank, and named "the poor man's doctor:" he was contented with what he said. Persons from every class of society solicit whatever fee his patients could afford to give. Once the distinction of being admitted to his levee. Pious but a-week he gave a most comfortable, nay, elegant dinner, weak-minded ministers of religion hold him forth as one at which he presided, to a crowd of reduced gentlemen. of the chosen among the elect; and when, finally, he is Doctor Percival, not to speak of his uniform benevolence brought to undergo his just punishment, one of the prinand high-mindedness, gave all the fees he had received cipal officers of the great metropolis of the empire, robed on Sundays in charity. May I ask if there be any one and furred with all the decorations of his office, mounts here that has been idle and thoughtless, and thinks that on the scaffold for the purpose of shaking hands with the he cannot retrieve lost time and neglected opportunities? wretch who has polluted society with his crimes. He Do I address another that may be disheartened by passes from the world with more honour and commiserapoverty at home? Do I recognise a third, conscious and tion than ever attended the most worthy among the justly convinced of the possession of high mental powers, Christian martyrs. If depraved taste leads certain perand who is not prepared to make a successful struggle sons to feel that sympathy with crime, and seek their for fame and fortune-prepared, I say, to rise above his saints in jails, let them, if they will, canonise their bones fellow-men, and exact the homage due to superior intel----let them enact pilgrimages to the shrines of Saint James lect and genius? If there be any such amongst us, let Greenacre and Saint Francis Courvoisier, but let them him lend an attentive ear to this hasty sketch of a great not so control the character and feelings of society as to and good man. The biographer of the late lamented cause the poor to be treated as criminals, and criminals Cheyne of this city states--- While he (Dr Cheyne) was as martyrs." assistant-surgeon and surgeon in the artillery, from 1795 to 1799, his time was spent in shooting, playing billiards, reading such books as the circulating library supplied, and in complete dissipation." Thus were spent these four years of the life of a great man. But the sun then rose on the soul of Cheyne. "He determined to become once more a medical student, and spent nine additional years in the study of pathology and the practice of medicine, by patient observation, reading, and the experience of the best living authorities." After such preparation,

LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row.

Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. Complete sets of the Journal are always to be had from the publishers or their agents; also, any odd numbers to complete pages and contents, have only to give them into the hands of any sets. Persons requiring their volumes bound along with titlebookseller, with orders to that effect.

[graphic]

DINBURGI

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF " CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,"

"CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

NUMBER 539.

LITERARY REVOLUTIONS.

SATURDAY, MAY 28, 1842.

and ladies were found out to differ but little from other people, and the fashionable novel has taken its place in the obituary of literature.

Modern times have also witnessed the rise and fall of another school of a very different kind; and this, with every admiration of its originator's powers, we take leave to designate the "Byronic." Lord Byron said, "that he awoke one morning and found himself famous." And one morning afterwards, divers young gentlemen, his countrymen, awoke and found themselves miserable. Then did the press groan with poetical sighs and cantos of lamentations, and the gorgeous descriptions of the noble pilgrim were iterated and reiterated till Cadiz and the Acropolis, the Piræus and "Scio's rocky isle," became familiar in men's mouths as household words. Then sprung into literary existence enough of bandits and pirates, each of whom "knew himself a villain," to have stocked every prison and plundered every bank in Europe. The world became out of conceit with the world, and sleek darlings of fortune took to railing against their nurse in good set phrase. This humour has passed away, and the Byronic school has become a thing of yesterday.

THE student of English literary history is familiar with the fact, that every successive age has been distinguished by the development of some species of literature distinct in its character from those which delighted the public in the preceding and subsequent ages. In our own time we have seen the rise, progress, and decay of the historical novel; for although that species of composition was not wholly unknown before the days of Sir Walter Scott, it was not extensively popular, nor was it cultivated by men of enlarged understandings and extensive acquirements. The novelists of an earlier period were, indeed, in the habit of introducing historical characters as part of their machinery; but to make the interest of the fiction mainly dependent on the historical truth with which these characters were depicted, was no part of their plan. This the grand secret of success in the modern historical novel-they never attempted: they trusted for the most part to the general accuracy with which they delineated human character, and to the variety and liveliness of their incidents. The great writer we have named may fairly claim the credit of having created a new school The most remarkable of all changes is the falling of composition, and one which acquired popularity off, if not abandonment, of dramatic literature. It had more speedily and extensively than could well have its day, and is gone. Social progress now requires been anticipated. Whilst, however, his own produc- other instruments. Before literature became so genetions and those of some of his followers are not likely rally cultivated as it has of late been, the stage was soon to forfeit their present position amongst the the chief instrument of education, and no other could treasures of English literature, it is scarcely probable that any new attempt in the same field would meet with very distinguished success. The day for the historical novel has passed.

Earlier than these there was the Romance School, with its apparatus of beleaguered castles, distressed damsels, gallant knights, haunted chambers with all the horrors of enchantment and diablerie. These had their charms for a time; but with the time these charms departed, and the productions of the romance school are now consigned to the shelves of the circulating library in the obscure village or distant borough

town.

Then there was the school of fashionable novels; and this, too, has had its day. It was not a very long one, but one quite long enough, although we are far from thinking it one without its utility. "I remember," says Schlegel, "it was the observation of a great philosopher, that the moment the world should see a perfect police, the moment there should be no contraband trade, and the traveller's pass should contain an exact portrait of its bearer, that moment would it become impossible to write a good romance, for then nothing would occur in real life which might with any moderate degree of ornament be formed into the groundwork of such a fiction." Did the "great philosopher," then, never read a fashionable novel where the interest is such as no perfection of police or revenue establishments could ever destroy-where speculative mothers, persecuted daughters, wealthy baronets, and unhappy younger sons, figure as characters, and where the scene is laid not in umbrageous forests, but in courtly drawing-rooms-not in the robber-haunted paths of Abruzzi, but in the perfumed regions of Mayfair! Writings of this description were for a time eagerly read; for just as men covet to know something about those countries where savage jealousy prohibits civilised intercourse-just as China and Japan are to this day the objects of anxious curiosity -so did men wish to learn something of the customs and habits of people whose wealth and position had elevated them out of the range of vulgar observation. But this was a curiosity that was soon satisfied; lords

have been found more adapted for a people which was not a reading people. This was the case amongst the Greeks, and then it was that the drama achieved its loftiest triumphs, for then was it the medium through which educated mind spoke to the whole body of the people, as now it speaks through the printing press. In the middle ages books were scarce, and reading an art of rare and difficult acquisition; and we know that the clergy-the sole public instructors -made theatrical representations the vehicle for diffusing the principles of religion and the precepts of morality amongst the unlettered people. Nay, theatrical representations, from the purposes for which they were used then, received the emphatic name of "Moralities." And even in subsequent times, when reading was confined to the wealthier classes, the theatre was still the channel of intercourse between great minds and the bulk of the people. If, then, we are surprised at the decline of the drama, we must remember, that, since the halcyon days of dramatic excellence, times have changed, and the men who would have written plays of yore now write books, and secure thereby an audience more numerous, and more capable of appreciating literary excellence.

When we go back into the earlier ages of English literature, we find other extinct modes or styles-as, for example, the character-depicting of the early part of the seventeenth century. This consisted in taking some section of society, or profession, or occupation, and giving the whole of its characteristic features under an impersonation, thus, as it were, making an individual the representative of his class. Sir Thomas Overbury was one of the earliest cultivators of this mode; and Earle, Bishop of Salisbury, one of the latest. With much antithetical quaintness of expression, they produced many able sketches; but we find in almost all of them a disposition to condemn large sections of men on account of their pursuits, or other circumstances over which they could scarcely have had any control-a species of prejudice which has survived the period. The physician has been a favourite point for the satirist's weapons, from the days of Horace downwards, and an alderman has always been con

PRICE 14d.

sidered fair game. Shakspeare himself, with all reverence be it spoken, never brings a mayor on the stage but to make him ridiculous; but, despite the jest, we must remember that Dante was Mayor of Florence, and that Montaigne-the learned, tender, lively Montaigne, who has instructed and delighted thousandsserved a municipal office at Bordeaux. Dr Earle is not superior to vulgar prejudice, and he does not forget to make his alderman as an alderman ought to be-fat. But he depicts him as something worse than fat. "A ponderous man he is and substantial, for his weight commonly is extraordinary." "He is a rigorous magistrate in his ward," we are told, "yet his scale of justice is suspected, lest it be like the balances in his warehouse." The parvenu, or "gentleman of no ancient gentility," has also usually been a favourite butt of the wits; and we can readily see, in the frequency and bitterness of their ridicule, how rapidly the increase of commercial wealth at this period was raising the condition of the middle classes of society. A revolution of such a kind could not have been otherwise than distasteful to those to whose level they were raised. "The upstart country knight," whom Bishop Earle satirises, was doubtlessly unpopular in his time. His father is described as "aman of good stock, though but a tanner or usurer; he purchased the land, and his son the title. He has doffed off the name of a country fellow, but the look not so easy, and his face still bears a relish of churn milk. A hawk he esteems the true burden of nobility, and is exceeding ambitious to seem delighted in the sport and have his fist gloved with his jesses." There is something cocknified in the bishop's conception of "a plain country fellow," who, he would have us to believe, possesses a mind not much distracted by objects of real moment; "but if a good fat cow come in his way, stands dumb and astonished, and, tho' his haste be never so great, will fix here a half an hour's contemplation. He thinks nothing to be vices but pride and ill-husbandry, from which he will gravely dissuade the youth, and has some thrifty hobnail proverbs to clout his discourse." To the bishop, citizens, shopkeepers, and bakers, are peculiar objects of aversion. The first has for "his cheapest guest a customer, which is the greatest relation he acknowledges, especially if you be an honest gentleman-that is, trust him to cozen you enough." The second "tells you lies by rote and not minding, as the phrase to sell in, and the language he spent most of his years to learn." The unfortunate baker "abhors works of charity, and thinks his bread cast away when it is given to the poor." The attorney, as might be supposed, meets but little mercy at the hands of this severe satirist. "Strife and wrangling have made him rich, and he is thankful to his benefactor, and nourishes it. His business gives him not leave to think of his conscience; and when the time or term of his life is going out, for doomsday he is secure, for he hopes he has a trick to reverse judgment." The characterdepicting style was not always satirical. It is Overbury, we think, who gives a picture of "The Happy Milkmaid," one of the sweetest essences that ever poet distilled from the crude mass of actual life.

A style of poetry flourished in the time of Charles I., which no subsequent age has seen revived. It consisted in short, hard-favoured pieces of verse, on religious subjects, generally on those which there is least pleasure in contemplating. It gave the most unamiable views of human nature, and was eager to remind the reader of the shortness of his days, and the sad state his body was sure to come to in the grave. The poor little vanities in which man indulges on earth, and without which, apparently, his career would be unmitigated misery and toil, were

« PreviousContinue »