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EDINBURGH
REVIEW,
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CRIM(^L JOVBNAL :
JANUARY, 1882 APRIL, 1882.
TO BE ^ CONTINUED QUARTEBLY.
JCDEX DAITNATUE CUM KOCENS ABSOLTITUK.
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LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, AND DYER, LONDON.
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK,
EDINBURGH.
1882.
LOXDOS : raiSTED BT
BPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUAEL
AKD PABLIAIIEST STREET
CONTENTS OP No. 317. ^
Page
Art. I. — Les Origines de la France Contemporaine. Par H.
Taine, de I'Acadeniie Francjaise. L'Ancien Regime
— La Revolution — La Conquete Jacobine. 3 tomes.
8vo. Paris: lb80-188I, 1
II. — 1. Nerone. Commedia in cinque atti ed in versi. Di
Pietro Cossa. Milano : 1878.
2. Plauto e il suo 8ecolo. Commedia in versi. Di
Pietro Cossa, Milano: 1876.
3. Teatro in Versi. Di Pietro Cos.sa. Torino :
1877-81.
4. Poesie Liriche. Di Pietro Cossa. Milano: 1876.
5. Poesie. Di Giosue Carducci (' Enotrio Romano ').
Terza edizione ■ preceduta da una biografia.
Firenze : 1878.
6. II Canto dell' Amore. Di Giosue Carducci. Bologna:
1878.
7. Odi Barbare. Di Giosue Carducci, Terza edizione.
Bologna: 1880, 26
III.— 1. The Life of Richard Cobden. By John Morley. In
2 vols. London: 1881.
2. The Life and Speeches of the Right Hon. John
Bright, M.P. By George Barnett Smith. In 2
vols, London: 1881.
3. Free Trade with France. Letters to the ' Times,'
with an Introduction by Earl Grey, K.G. London :
1881, 60
IV. — 1 . Electric Transmission of Power : its Present Position
and Advantages By Paget Higgs, LL.D., D.Sc.
London: 1879, ...... 92
[And other Works.]
V. — 1. Carthage and the Carthaginians. By R. Bosworth
Smith, M.A. Second edition. London : 1879.
2. Geschichte der Karthager. Von Otto Meltzer. Vol.L
Berlin: 1879.
3. Travels in the Footsteps of Bruce in Algeria and
Tunis. By Lieut.- Colonel R. L. Playfair. Lon-
don: 1877.
4. The Country of the Moois. A Journey from Tripoli
in Barbary to the City of Kairwan. By Edward
Rae, F.R.G.S. London : 1877.
5. En Tunisie. Par Albert de la Berge. Paris:
1881.
6. Algeria, Tunisia 6 Tripolitania. Di Attilio Brunialti.
Milano: 1881, 121
Contents.
Page
VI. — 1, The Irish Problem, uud how to solve it. London:
1881.
2. Catechism of tlie History of Ireland, Ancient and
Modern. A new and revised Edition, with an
Account of the Land Agitation. By W. J. O'Neill
Daunt. Forty-sixth thousand. Dublin : 1874, . 155
VII. — 1. Buenos Ay res and the Provinces of Rio Plata. By
Sir Woodbine Parish, K.C.H. 8vo. London :
1839; second Edition, 1851.
2. Blik paa Brasiliens Dyreverden for sidste Jordom-
vcelrning. Af Dr. Lund. 4to. Kjobenhavu :
1838.
3. Anales del Museo Publico de Buenos Ayres. Por el
Dr. Burraeister. 4to. Entrega primera, 1864;
Entrega duodecima, 1871.
4. Zoology of the Beagle, Fossil Mammalia. By Richard
Owen. 4to. London: 1839, .... 18G
[And other Works.]
VIII. — 1. Reports from the Select Committees of the House of
Commons on Public Business in the years 1837,
1848, 1854, 1857, 1861, 1869, 1871, and 1878.
2. Reform of Procedure in Parliament to clear the block
of Hoiise of Commons business. By W. M.
Torrens, M.P. London: 12mo. 1881.
3. Parliamentary Procedure. A Paper read at the
Annual Provincial Meeting of the Incorporated
Law Society of the United Kingdom, on October
11, 1881, by W. T. Manning, . '. . .205
IX.— 1. The Life of Napoleon III. DeriA'ed from State
Records, from unpublished Family Correspondence,
and from Personal Testimony. By Blanchard
Jerrold. 4 vols. 8vo. London : 1874-82.
2. The Marriages of the Bonapartes. By the Hon.
D. A. Bingham. 2 vols. London: 18-1.
3. Recollections of the Last Half-Century. By Count
Orsi. London: 1881, 221
X. — The Land of the Midnight Sun. Summer and Winter
Journeys through Sweden, Norway, Lapland, and
Northern Finland. By Paul B. du Chaillu.
2 vols. London: 1881, 25G
XI.— 1. The Position of the Whigs. By Charles Milnes
Gaskell. (' Nineteenth Century ' for December,
1881.)
2. Burke. By John Morley. London : 1880, . .279
CONTENTS OF No. 318.
Page
Art. I. — 1. Lettres et Memoires de Marie d'Angleterre, epouse
de Guillaume HI. Collection de Documents Authen-
tiques inedits. Par Mechteld, Comtesse Bentinck
(nee Waldeck). La Haye, Paris, and London : 1880.
2. Der Fall des Hauses Stuart. (1660-1714.) Von
Onno Klopp. "Wien : 1876.
3. Les derniers Stuarts a St. Germain-en- Lay e. Par la
Marquise Campana di Cavelli. Deux tomes folio.
Paris, London, and Edinburgh : 1871, . . .291
IL — 1. Poems. By Dante Gabriel Rossetti. London: 1870.
2. Ballads and Sonnets. By Dante Gabriel Eossetti.
London: 1881, 322
HI. — Culturgeschichte des Orients unter den Khalifen. Von A.
von Kremer. Zwei Biinde. Wien : 1875, . . 338
IV. — 1. P. Terenti ComoediEe. Edidit et apparatu critico in-
struxit Franciscus Umpfenbach. Berolini : 1870.
2. P. Terenti Comcediae. With Notes Critical and Exe-
getical, an Introduction and Appendix by Wilhelm
Wagner, Ph. D. Cambridge : 1869.
3. P. Terenti Hauton Timorumenos. Erkllirt von
Wilhelm Wagner. Berlin: 1872, . . .364
V. — 1. Origins of English History. By Charles Elton, some-
time Fellow of Queen's College, Oxford, and of
Lincoln's Inn, Barrister-at-Law, author of ' The
* Tenures of Kent,' &c. London : 1882.
2. The Making of England. By John Richard Green,
M.A., Honorary Fellow o£ Jesus College, Oxford.
London: 1881, 382
VI. — 1. Correspondence respecting the projected Panama
Canal. Presented to both Houses of Parliam.ent by
command of Her Majesty. 1882.
2. Canal Interoceanique, 1876-77. Rapport sur les
etudes de la Commission Internationale d'Exploration
de risthme du Darien. Par L. N. B. Wyse. Paris :
1877. Rapports sur les etudes de la Commission In-
ternationale d'Exploration de I'lsthme Americain.
Par L. N. B. Wyse, Armand Reclus, et P. Sosa.
Paris: 1879, 411
[And other Works]
11
CO NIK NTS.
Page
VII.— 1. lV!!a Vita e delle Operc di Edoardo Fusco, Pro-
fossore (.rdinaiio di Antropologia e Pedagogia nella
K. Univtrsita di Napoli, Notizie e Documenti raccolti
dalla Vedova di lui. Vols. I. and II. Napoli:
1880-1881.
2. La Turchia, ossia Usi, Costuiiii c Credenze degli
" Osmani, del Comin. Edoardo Fusco. Messi insieme e
compiuti dalla Vedova di lui, ^^^
[And other Works.]
VIII._1. The Ornithological Works of Arthur, ninth Marquis
of Tweeddale. " Reprinted from the originals by the
desire of his Widow. Edited and revised by his
Nephew, Eobert G. AVardlaw Ramsay, F.L.S., F Z.S.,
M.B.O.U., Captain 74th Highlanders (late 67th
Regiment), together with a Biographical Sketch of
the" Author, by William Howard Russell, LL.D. For
private circulation. 1 vol. 4to. London: 1881.
2. Proceedings and Transactions of the Zoological
Society of London. London: 1866-1879.
3. Report on the Scientific Results of the Voyage of
H.M.S. ' Challenger.' Zoology. Vol. II. London :
1881. On the Birds collected in the Philippine
Islands. By Arthur, Marquis of Tweeddale, F.R.S. . 465
IX. — 1. The British Navy: its Strength, Resources, and Ad-
ministration. By Sir Thomas Brassey, K.C.B., M.P.,
M.A. Vols. I. and II. Shipbuilding for the Purposes
of War. 8vo, London: 1882.
2. Forewarned, Forearmed. By the Right Hon. Lord
Henry Gordon Lennox, M.P. London : 1882.
3. Address of Sir W. G. Arm.strong, C.B., LL.D., D.C.L.,
F.R.S., President of the Institution of Civil Engineers:
January 10, 1882.
4. England on the Defensive, or the Problem of Invasion
critically examined iinder the Aspect of a Series of
Military Operations. By Captain J. T. Barrington,
late of the Royal Artillery. CroAvn 8vo. London :
1881, 477
X. — The Haigs of Bemersyde : a Family History. By John
Russell. 8vo. Edinburgh and London : 1881, . 505
XI. — 1. Selected Speeches of the late Right Honourable the
Earl of Beaconsfield. Arranged and edited, with
Introduction and Explanatory Notes, by T, E. Kebbel,
M.A. 2 vols. London : 1H82.
2. Novels and Tales. By the Earl of Beaconsfield.
Ihighenden Edition. 11 vols. London: 1881.
3. Wit and Wisdom of Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of
Beaconsfield, collected from his Writings and
Speeches. London : 1881, 533
THE
EDINBUEGH EEYIEW,
JANUARY, 1882.
JVo.€C€XTU.
Aet. I. — Les Oi'iQJnes de la Frafide Coufemjioroinr. Par
H. Tatnk. de I'Academie Franeaise. L'Ancieu Regime —
La Revolution — La Conquete Jacobine. 3 tomes. 8vo.
Paris: 1880-1881.
'JV'OTWITHSTAXDIXG the countless histories and essays to
-svhich the inexhaustible annals of the French Revolu-
tion have given birth, this work by M. Taine. who now takes
rank amongst the most distinguished members of the French
Academy, is not deficient either in novel facts or in original
ideas. It is in truth an important contribution to the litera-
ture of the present age, not only because it throws a clearer
light on the dark and turbid events of the last century, but
because it offers an instructive lesson to the present genera-
tion. This we infer from the general title of the book — ' Les
' Origines de la Y ranee Co?ifemporai?ie' — to be M. Taiue's chief
object in writing it. He casts his eyes not only over the past
revolutions of his country, but over the present and future
condition of society in Europe. The Revolution which broke
out in France in 1789 is not over ; it will not be over in the
lifetime of any man now living ; it is still changing the
political and social institutions of every country in this hemi-
sphere : for the inscrutable problems of government, of law,
and of religions belief, which that explosion tore from the
ruins of the past, are still unsolved. M. Taine deals with
them in a philosophical spirit. He disclaims in his preface
Bot only party prepossessions but political principles. His
book is an enquiry into what political principles should be,
and as yet he has found but one on which he can rest. It is
simply this, that ' human society, and especially modern society,
^ is vast and complicated — difficult to know and to understand,
TOL. CLY. NO. CCCXVII. B
2 Taines Conquest of the Jacobins. Jan.
* but more easily known and understood by tlic cultivated
* than by the uncultivated mind, and by liini Avho has studied
* it than by him who has not.'
]M. Taine proved by the first volume of his work on the
* Ancien llegime ' that he had no prejudices in favour of the
state of things existing in France before the llevolution, and
no hostility to chanojes which had become inevitable. No
writer has ever described and recorded the intolerable abuses
of the Court, the Church, and the condition of the people or
France in the last century wdth greater minuteness and power.
M. de Tocqueville, indeed, had preceded him in that part of his
subject with a depth of insight and a succinct vigour of expres-
sion to Avhich M. Taine has no claim. But ]\I. de Tocqueville,
having completed and perfected a Avork of infinite research and
reflection, swept away the traces of construction — the scaflfbld-
ing of the edifice. M. Taine, on the contrary, retains in his text
or in his notes a prodigious number of curious and forgotten
incidents and circumstances, all drawn from original autho-
rities, which reveal in detail the state of the government and
the country. As he approaches more nearly to the sanguinary
and terrible scenes of the Revolution, he follows the same
course. Almost all the historians of these extraordinary
events have fixed their attention, and the attention of theii'
readers, on the central anarchy of the city of Paris — the
crater of the volcano — the seat of the Legislative Assemblies.
of the clubs, of ranks and parties mown down by the guillo-
tine, of the visible fall and death of the monarchy. But
M. Taine shoAvs us that these Avell-known incidents are but a
fraction of the Revolution ; he traces the convulsion to the
humblest commune in France; the spirit of destruction Avas
everyAvhere ; nay, the perils of the country Avere so much
more terrible than the perils of the capital, that croAvds fled to
Paris, even in the Reign of Terror, as to a city of refuge, for
there it might, men thought, be possible to find concealment
in a crowd. This picture of the state of the provinces, as
M. Taine has executed it, is to a great extent ncAv. No
one had a full conception of the aAvful condition of the rural
districts and the utter demoralisation of the Avhole people ; for
no one had dragged to light as he has done the local records ol
those atrocious times.
If Ave take the trouble to compare any of the popular
histories of the French Revolution Avith this Avork, the contrast
is so striking that one can hardly believe they are records
of the same time and the same people. In the facile pages
of M. Thiers, for instance, the reader Avill not find a trace
1882. Tains' s Conquest of tlie Jacobins. 3
of the universal anarchy which devoured the social life of
France ; his eyes are fixed on the vacillations of a feeble
Court and the struggles of a factious Assembly ; but he leaves
absolutely untold the strife which penetrated the remotest
communes of France, the glaring defects of the Constitution
of 1791, and the political influences which enabled a small but
violent faction to acquire by terror, even from an early period,
supreme power over the nation. This is what M. Taine has
accomplished. A history of the Revolution written nearly
half a century ago, with imperfect materials, such as the
memoirs of Busenval, Bertrand de Molleville, or Dumouriez,
is a mere sketch of the leading events in the capital. More
recent and far more profound researches enable the writers of
our own time to complete the picture. Contemporary writers
seldom tell, or even know, the whole truth about the events
they witness ; they cannot penetrate to the causes of them ;
contemporary records are the only unimpeachable, trustworthy
materials of history.*
But whilst we acknowledge our obligation to M. Taine for
an elaborate and instructive work, we cannot congratulate him
on his style. It is open to the same criticisms which we felt
compelled to apply some years ago to his book on English
literature. He does not, indeed, attempt like Mr. Carlyle to
present to the reader a lurid picture of the French Revo-
lution, all smoke and flame ; he relies on facts, and these he
accumulates with amazing precision and abundance. But his
language is strained and verbose. His sentences are laboured
and wrought to excessive length. He altogether wants that
crispness and ease which is the chief beauty of the French
language, strong without effort, clear without repetition. We
fear that the style of French composition has sensibly deterio-
rated under the pernicious influence of newspaper writers and
bad novelists ; for, if it were not presumptuous in a foreign
critic to address such a remark to a member of the French
Academy, we should say that we cannot discover in these
redundant paragraphs the genuine traditions of French prose.
They are disfigured by a straining after effect and an elaborate
* Thus Mr. Morley says in his remarkable Essay on Burke (p. 190) :
* The spirit of insurrection that had slumbered since the fall of the
* Bastille and the march to Versailles in 1789, now (that is in 1792)
' awoke in formidable violence,' under the excitement produced by
the Duke of Brunswick's insensate manifesto. Nothing can be more
untrue. Every page of the work before us proves that the spirit of
insurrection was raging throughout France in the years 1790 and 1791.
4 Table's Conquest of the Jacohins. Jan.
rhetoric -which arc unworthy of a countryman of Voltaire;
and although they are an indictment of the Revolution, the
style of them is not a little revolutionary.
Enough, however, of criticism. Every book has its faults,
and WG prefer to dwell on the substantial merits of M. Taine,
■which are of a very high order. Of these the chief appears
to us to be that whilst no historian of the French llevolution
has accumulated a larger amount of instructive details, none
have drawn from them with more effect the general principles
which recur in all the great perturbations of human society.
This is the object of his work. He does not attempt a con-
nected narrative of events already familiar to most readers.
But he illustrates them with fresh incidents, and he lays bare
the motive forces by Avhich these extraordinary occurrences
were brought about. The fundamental principle of the book
is expressed in the following terms : —
' In a disorganised society in which popular passions are the sole
effective force, supreme power belongs to the party which knows how
to flatter those passions and to use them. Hence, by the side of the
legal government which can neither repress those passions nor satisfy
them, an illegal government springs up which sanctions, excites, and
directs them. Just a* the former government breaks up and sinks, the
latter grows in strength and organisation, until, becoming legal in its
turn, it supersedes the power it has displaced.'
That is Revolution ; that is Avhat M. Taine calls ' Jaco-
* binism ' — a phenomenon not confined to France in the w^orst
and most convulsive period of her history, but recurrino; every-
where when a government is not strong and resolute" enough
to enforce the law, and when a people is daring and fierce
enough to break it. The doctrine of the sovereignty of the
people, ]M. Taine continues, as preached by Rousseau and by
the revolutionary leaders, implies an absolute and direct con-
ti-ol of the ])eople over the government it has itself created,
over its own representatives, over its own laws, over its own
executive. No delegated power has any real authority; no
institution, however democratic, can control the popular will.
' The people must act for itself, must meet, deliberate on public
affairs, discuss, control, and censure the measures of its representatives.
press them with remonstrances, correct their mistakes by its own good
fiense,_stimulate their weakness by its energy, grasp the helm of the state,
sometimes dismiss the pilot or throw him overboard, and save the ship
he was steering on the rocks. Such was the doctrine of the popular
party ; and on July 14, 1789, and October 5 and G, this doctrine Avas
acted on. In their clubs, in their journals, it was incessantly pro-
claimed by Loustalot, Camille Desmoulins, Freron, Danton, Marat,
1882. Taine's Conquest of the Jacobins. 5
Petion, and Robespierre. To them every act of the government,
Tvhether local or central, was an intrusion. What profit have we if we
have overthrown one despotism to establish another ? "We have van-
quished the aristocracy of the privileged classes, but we are the servants
of the aristocracy of our own representatives.'
If the principle be accepted that the popular will is over all
persons and all institutions supreme, there is an end not only
of what are called constitutional barriers, but of the very
bases of civil society and the fundamental la^vs of morality.
The popular will, or rather the will of popular leaders, in
a revolutionary crisis, can, and will, and does overrule them
all. This is no visionary terror of the red spectre : the fact
has actually occurred in France three or four times in the
last ninety years, and in some other countries besides. On
this principle no government can exist at all, for government
means the control of law. But, by a strange contradiction,
the very men who hold this language sometimes succeed in
establishing an arbitrary and absolute power of the most in-
tolerant kind, and substitute for the authority of law and the
will of the vast majority of the nation a tyranny w'hich makes
them infamous in history. "VYe shall presently see by what
means this usurpation may be accomplished, but before Ave
proceed let us complete the picture.
' Exaggerated vanity and dogmatical arguments a,re not rare among
mankind. In all countries these two roots of the Jacobinical creed
subsist indestructibly, though beneath the surface. They are every-
where controlled by the institutions of society. They everywhere aim
at undermining the old historical fabric which crushes them by its
weight. Now as then, in the student's garret and the refuge of the
outcast, amongst doctors without patients and advocates without briefs,
there are the germs of a Brissot, a Danton, a Marat, a Robespierre, a
Saint- Just, but for want of air and sunshine they come to nothing. . , .
' " From the Chateau at Versailles and the antechambers of the palace,
" authority has passed," exclaimed Mallet-du-Pan, " without a medium
" and without control, into the hands of the populace and their flatterers.
" Not only have all legal rights been levelled, but the natural ranks of
*' society have been inverted." France was transformed into a gaming-
table — a vast lottery of popular fortunes, of promotion without claims,
of success without talents, of applause without virtues, and of innume-
rable olfices distributed wholesale and received retail by the people
Out of these elements the Jacobin arose, as toadstools spring from de-
composed matter. He is a mixture of strange contrasts — a madman
who reasons, a monster with a conscience. Under the influence of his
dogmatism and his pride, he has contracted two deformities, one of the
mind, the other of the moral sense. Nothing stops him, for, by inverting
the order of nature, he has depraved the fundamental conceptions of
right and wrong. No light reaches the eye which mistakes blindness
6 Taine's Conquest of the Jacobins. Jan.
for second sight ; no remorse can touch the soul which calls barbarity
patriotism and places atrocities on the p?>th of duty.'
We liavc taken the liberty to compress into a few lines
some thiity-two pages of M. Taine's invective, which is of too
rhetorical a character for our taste. But there are touches in
his picture, which our readers will recognise, even in more
recent times, and in countries nearer to Great Britain. The
problem to be solved is this. How came it to pass that a
small minority of a great nation, never consisting, as M. Taine
calculates, of more than 300,000 persons, and these of the
lowest rank and the worst character, could acquire an undis-
puted ascendency over all the talent, all the property, all the
classes in the country whose interests were identified with the
maintenance of law and order ? The answer is that this was
the result of the audacity and organisation of one party, and
of the weakness, vacillation, and disunion of the other, in-
cluding the government itself. The minority terrorised the
majority, and compelled the reluctant classes to join the move-
ment, to submit to it, or to perish.
In M. Taine's second volume he has shown how incompetent
the government of Louis XVI. was to deal with a desperate
state of affairs ; the army was never used with effect to put down
sedition ; the law was mute ; all authority in the provinces and
in Paris was subverted. The crow^n in France for nearly two
centuries, since the Fronde, had never had to encounter any
disturbance or attack more serious than a corn riot : it was
utterly unprepared for civil war. The nation, trusting to its
legal defenders, who were incapable of defence, took no steps
for its own protection : on the contrary, it withdrew from public
affairs. In December 1789 the new municipal law came into
operation, and the municipal authorities were everywhere
elected. People flattered themselves that, under the new
ref/ime inaugurated by the Constituent Assembly, the revo-
lution was finished. M. Taine asserts that from July 14,
1790, the political ambition of the vast majority of the French
people was satisfied. In fact their trials were about to begin.
As eveiy imaginable office was filled by election and held for
a very short period, the recurrence of these elections became
an intolerable nuisance. The consequence was that the
electors stayed at home. At Chartres, in May 1790, out of
1,551 citizens 1,447 failed to attend. At Besanjon, in
January 1790, out of 3,200 electors 2,141 were absent, and
in the following November 2,900. At Grenoble, four-fifths
stood aloof. Paris, in August 1790, had 81,200 electors, but
of these 67,200 failed to vote, and in November 71,408 were
1882. Taine's Conquest of the Jacohins. 7
absent. At the election of deputies for Paris in 1791 more
than 74,000 declined to appear. Such Avas the use the orderly-
classes of the French people made of their newly acquired
privileges. It came at last to this, that out of 7,000,000
electors, inscribed in the Assemblees Primaires, 6,003,000
neglected, refused, or feared to exercise the franchise."^ The
minority Avho voted consisted, of course, of the revolutionary
party. They therefore succeeded in filling all the offices in
the country, and once in possession of them they took care to
exert and to retain their power. For this purpose they every-
where formed themselves into what they called Committees.
At Mandre, Count Beugnot saw in the best room of the
village inn twelve drunken peasants round a table with an ink-
stand and a register upon it. ' I don't know what they are
■* doing,' said the landlady, ' but they are there from morning
* to night, drinking, swearing, and scolding, and they say they
* are a Committee.^ The same farce was played in every town
and every commune of France. By the end of September
1791 a thousand of these clubs had been formed ; in June
1792, 1,200; and after the fall of the monarchy, 26,000.
Every one of these village conventions claimed its share of
sovereign authority, to inflame the passions of one class and
to tyrannise by terror over the rest. To hold the language of
an independent journalist like M. Mallet-du-Pan, the best
and bravest of his profession, was to expose oneself to domi-
ciliary visits from armed conspirators, who intimidated every
conscientious citizen by the cry, ' Tremble, die, or think as I
■^ do ! ' At Marseilles the clubs compelled the municipal
officers to resign. At Lyons they stopped a battery of artil-
* To some extent the history of the French Republic even now
repeats itself. It is supposed that the general election of last summer
was a decisive proof that the nation adhered to the Republican party;
but in fact we believe that about three millions of electors neglected or
declined to vote at all. The result is that an extraordinary number
of unknown men, needy adventurers, and briefless lawyers has been
returned ; and the present Chamber, now entering upon its functions,
•contains scarcely a single man known for high character, talents, or
political experience. Never was the Parliament of a great nation
•composed of such representatives. We shall see the result. The poli-
tical intelligence of France has still a refuge in the Senate. But it is
& significant fact that not one statesman of mark could l)c found to
€nter the Ministry of which M. Gambetta is the head. The whole
•official class has been ostracised, and the same treatment is to be
applied to the judicial body and the subordinate members of the
Administration.
8 Tainc's Conquest of the Jacobins. Jan.
ieiy. They denounced the upper classes and the clergy.
They usur])ed authority, and already became ' a monster of
* desi)otisni.' Yet the National Assembly continued to pro-
tect them. ' II faut,' it was said, ' que le people se forme en
* petits pelotons.' These ' petits pelotons ' were formed. All
that was wanting was a central power to put them in motion
and direct them ; nor was this long absent.
' Je fais de Voi'dre uvec dii dcsurdre,'' said M. Canssidicre, one
of the low-bred charlatans who attempted in 18-48 to parody
the scenes of the Great Revolution. His recipe for revo-
lutions was laughed at, but, in fact, it was the true one. To
spread disorder amongst the people, to excite them by agi-
tation and enslave them by terror, to break down the barriers
of the luAv by appeals to their baser passions, is the only mode
by Avhich a nation can be led to yield its destinies to such
leaders, and to enable them to establish a false authority and
an arbitrary power on the ruins of tradition and constitutional
freedom. That is the Jacobin object and the Jacobin creed.
PoAver in such hands is the child of anarchy. It has been put
in practice more than once, even in our times, by the Com-
mune of Paris, and it took its origin in that celebrated asso-
ciation or conspiracy Avhich has given its name to the Avorst
crimes and the most daring leaders of the revolutionary party.
On the eve of the Revolution, as early as April 30, 1789,
a political association or league Avas foi'med in Versailles under
the name of the ' Amis de ia Constitution.' It comprised the
most honourable and able of the Liberals of France, and
when it removed to the libi'ar}'- of the Jacobin Convent in
Paris, after October 6, it consisted of a thousand members.
Its sittings Avere regular, its proceedings decorous; and' the
high character it soon acquired made it the model and fruitful
])arent of all the political associations in France. Thus h
became the centre Avhich all these local bodies obeyed, for even
in the tempest of the revolution the old habit of obedience to
a central authority survived. But Avithin a few months this
society changed its character, Avhilst it retained its power. The
revolutionary party triumphed over the true Liberals, and the
Jacobin Club became ' an instrument admirably adapted to
' forge an artificial and violent state of opinion, to give that
* opinion the colour of the spontaneous Avill of the nation, to
* transfer to a noisy minority the rights of a mute majority,
' and exercise an irresistible pressure on the Government, and
* on the National Assembly itself.' In the loAver chambers of
that same Jacobin Convent, insurrections Avere organised from
time to time to keep the citizens in perpetual terror. Thus,,
1882, Taine's Conquest of the Jacobins. 9
when the confiscation of the property of the clergy was proposed
on November 1, 1789, these consph-ators convoked the ragged
host which they called the ' coadjutors of the revolution.' The
deputies, on their way to the spot where they were to meet,
were surrounded by a mob of 20,000 to 25,000 ruffians armed
with sticks, and for the most part without shoes or stockings.
They insulted the clergy as they passed, and threatened tO'
murder those who should refuse to vote for the bill. Nearly
300 members Avere afraid to take their seats. These voted at
the risk of their lives ; and the decree was carried by 578 to
346. The watchword of these scoundrels was ' Etes-vous
^ sur?' and the reply, ^Un homme surj' They were paid 12
francs a day, and the money was supplied (as M. Taine
asserts on the authority of Malouet) by the Duke of Orleans
and the Jacobin Club.
Nevertheless the number of the revolutionary party was
still extremely small. At Besanjon in November 1791, and
even in the following year, out of 6,000 or 7,000 electors
there were but 500 or 600 Jacobins. In Paris, out of 81,000
registered electors, they were but 6,700; at Troyes and at
Strasburg, with 8,000 electors, they were 400 or 500. In
general, not more than a tenth of the electoral body belonged
to it, and, if the Girondins and semi-moderates are deducted,
not half that. M. Taine is convinced that in the worst days
of the ' fool-fury of the Seine ' there were not more than
10,000 of these ruffians in Paris, and not more than 300,000
Jacobins in the whole of France.
' A small proportion to enslave six or seven millions of adult men, and
to extend over a country containing 26,000,000 inhabitants a despotism
more absolute than that of Asiatic sovereigns. But strength is not
measured by numbers. They are a compact band in a crowd — a crowd
disorganised and inert, but a band resolved to cleave the mass as a
wedge of iron cleaves a mass of plaster. The truth is that a nation
can only defend itself against usurpation from within, as well as against
invasion and conquest from without, by the power of its government.
Government is the indispensable weapon of common action ; and if
government fails or gives way, the majority, busied elsewhere, and
always irresolute and lukewarm, ceases to be a body and crumbles
into dust.'
In France the government of Louis XVI. was extinct,
without an effort of self-preservation. The government of
the National Assembly was so ill constructed as to be im-
possible. No hand was on the helm Avhich commands the
vessel ; the Jacobins alone had the resolution and the force to
grasp it. They alone, too, had faith in the Kevolution — that
10 Taine's Conquest of the Ju cabins. Jan.
faith which removes mountains. They believed with Moham-
medan fanaticism in the creed ' Religion is superstition ; mon-
* archy is a usurpation ; all priests are impostors ; all aristo-
' crats are vampires ; all kings are tyrants and monsters.' These
sentiments rose to the height of insanity. When the Abbe
Gregoire carried the decree for the abolition of royalty, he
exclaimed, * I confess that for several days the excess of my
* delight deprived me of sleep and appetite.' * We shall be a
' people of gods I ' was the boast of a Jacobin from the
tribune of the Assembly. A sans-culotte was supposed to be
invulnerable. A sans-culotte mother was said to be exempted
from the pains of chikibirth. ' Whenever I am convinced,
said Saint- Just, 'that it is impossible to give the French
* people des mceurs douces, cnergiques, sensibles, inexorables
* a la tyrannic et a I'injustice, je me poignarderai.' Mean-
while, adds M. Taine, he guillotines other people. ' We will
* make France a burial-ground,' said Carrier, ' sooner than not
' regenerate the country in our fashion.' In presence of these
maniacs, society in France was powerless and disarmed. Yet
even Lafayette spoke of the Jacobins as *a sect whose de-
* struction was desired by nineteen-tvventieths of Frenchmen ; '
and after June 28, 1792, Durand-Maillane declared that 'the
* communes of France were sick of popular assemblies and
'would gladly get rid of them.' Nevertheless the violent
party continually prevailed over the less violent. Four suc-
cessive times between 1789 and 1794, the Impartiaux, the
Feuillants, the Girondins, and the Dantonists played the
desperate game, and four successive times the majority was
beaten. Why ? Because the majority still clung to the forms
of law and the dictates of experience and humanity, whilst
the minority was resolved to win at any cost and by any
means, and accordingly blew out the brains of its opponents
and carried off the stakes. Such is the picture M. Taine
draws of a struggle between a timid constituted authority,
careful never to strain the law, and indulgent even to its
worst enemies, and a party animated by the fury of a wild
beast, and, like a wikl beast, regardless of all restraint. The
lesson is one which is not without utility. A government has
always superior powers, it always commands what Mr. Glad-
stone calls ' the resources of civilisation,' but it must have the
wisdom and the firmness to use them. Otherwise between a
government, fettered by numerous scruples and obligations,
and a revolution to which scruples and obligations are un-
known, the odds are not in favour of the government, and its
superior physical power is neutralised by superior moral
1882. Table's Conquest of the Jacobins. 11
weakness. Organised lawlessness is more than a match for
disorganised lawful authority. It has been said of late that
* force is no remedy ' — a sentiment borrowed apparently from
a declaration of Mr, Burke in his speech on conciliation with
America, when he said that force was but a temporary remedy.
But there seems to be a strange confusion of ideas in the
application of this generous maxim. Force is no remedy for
public wrongs. Public wrongs must be redressed. But force
is the necessary remedy for disorder and crime. Justice herself
is powerless, if she is disarmed. All laAv must have the sanc-
tion of force, or it ceases to command obedience, although in a
well-ordered community the force is latent. But when the
force of authority is displaced men transfer their obedience to
the quarter from which force comes. The French devolution
ran its course until the Jacobin party encountered in the
person of Napoleon Bonaparte a man as resolute and as un-
scrupulous as itself. The Sections of the Commune and the
Thermidorians perished on the 13th Vendemiaire.
One of the causes of the decline of lawful authority and
the ascendency of the Jacobins Avas the frightful deterioration
of the Legislative Assembly. The Constituent Assembly
contained within its walls men of great talent, large property,
and illustrious names. The Legislative Assembly, elected in
1791 under the constitution which its predecessor had framed,
consisted of 745 members, of Avhoni 400 were la^vyers of the
lowest rank. Nineteen-twentieths of this body had no equi-
page but an umbrella and a pair of goloshes. Most of them
were under thirty years of age. It was calculated that the
whole Assembly did not possess more than 300,000 francs a
year in real property. The greater part of them had received
no education. The pages of M. Taine are crowded with
instances of their extravagance and their folly. These were
the men elected under the influence of the Jacobin clubs
scattered all over France. Their proceedings were as irre-
gular as their origin was contemptible ; and even when the
majority were in favour of moderation and order they allowed
themselves to be intimidated by the violent faction.
What was the state of the country when, on October 1,
1791, that Constitution for which such sacrifices had been
made, and which was hailed with transports of enthusiasm,
came into operation, being accepted by the King and confided
to the protection of the Legislative Assembly ? M. Taine
shall tell us : —
' In the eight departments surrounding Paris, riots on every market
day, farms attacked and farmers seized by bands of vagabonds, the
12 Table's Conquest of the Jdcobins. Jan.
Mayor of Melun beaten and rescued bleeding from the populace ; at
Belfort an insurrection to seize a convoy of money and a commissioner
of the Haut-Khin at the peril of his life; at Bouxvillers, landowners
attacked by the indigent national guard and the soldiers ol' Salm-Salm,
houses broken open and cellars pillaged ; at Mirecourt a riot of women
who besieged the Hotel de Ville with di-ums for three days ; at Koche-
fort the workmen of the arsenal compelling the municipality to lower
its ilag; on October IG Avignon was in the power of the savages who
perpeti'ated tlie atrocious butchery of the Glaciere; on November 14, at
Montpeliier, eight men and women killed in the street, and the mode-
rate party disarmed or put to flight. At the end of October the terrific
insurrection broke out in St. Domingo, which cost the lives of 1,000
white men and 15,000 negroes, and destroyed the colony. In Paris,
out of 700,000 inhabitants, 100,000 were paupers, many of them from
the country. Everywhere alike disobedience to every rank of autho-
rity ; committees resisting the orders of ministers ; municipalities re-
sisting the orders of their chiefs ; communes attacking their mayor
sword in hand ; soldiers and seamen arresting their officers ; prisoners
insulting the judges Avho tried them and compelling them to retract
their sentence; mobs fixing the price of corn or plundering it; national
guards seizing corn on the road or in the granaries ; no security for
property, life, or conscience ; the majority of the nation deprived of the
exercise of their religion and of their electoral rights ; as for the upper
classes, ecclesiastical and noble, officers of the army and navy, merchants
or landowners, no safety by day or night, no access to the courts of
justice, no rent, but denunciations, expulsion, domiciliary attacks, and
no means of combining even in defence of the law, and under the pro-
tection of legal authority ! And in the face of all this the privilege and
the impunity of a sect which has formed itself into a political corpora-
tion, extending its branches throughout the kingdom and even to foreign
countries, having its own treasury, its executive, its rules, governing
the government and judging justice, and from the capital to the hamlet
usurping and controlling the administration.' (Tome iii. p. 122.)
This picture of anarchy is a dark one. It may be taken
as a specimen of M. Taine's style. But it is not over-
coloured. It is composed of indisputable facts ; and with
some allowance for the change of times and situations it might
pass for a picture of tlie state of Ireland in 1881, with this
essential difference— that bcliind the anarchy of Ireland stands
the power of England, capable, when the moment for action
an-ives, of controlling the crimes of a people governed by a
League of Jacobins; and recent events have shown that in
default of other means a private Defence Association will
attempt the task.
It is a common opinion that the French Revolution became
a reign of anarchy and bloodshed after the fall of the mon-
archy in August -1792, and that in its earlier years it was still
an era of hope and progress. M. Taine in his former volume
1882. Taine's Conquest of the Jac oh ins. 13
and in these pages completely dispels that illusion. He shows
by innumerable examples that at a much earlier period all law,
authority, and order were overthrown, and that the boasted
Constitution of 1791 did nothing to restoi-e confidence and
peace. Yet that epoch was hailed with rejoicings and enthu-
siasm scarcely less insane than the crimes and outrages which
were devastating every part of France. The three years
which followed the taking of the Bastille presented a singular
contradiction : philanthropy in Avords and symmetry in legis-
lation, but violence in action and disorder everywhere — a
reign of philosophy seen from abroad, a Carlo vingian disrup-
tion at home. Malouet described the state of France in the
beginning of 1792 as 'the Regency of Algiers without the
* Dey.' Even before the removal of the King to Paris on
October 6, 1789, the government was destroyed; the successive
decrees of the Assembly completed its extinction. The in-
tendants of the provinces had fled ; the military officers were
not obeyed ; the courts of justice were afraid to act ; all eflfec-
tive power had devolved upon the commune. But in fact the
paralysis of authority had begun much earlier, or else this
change in the state of the country must have been brought
about with extraordinary rapidity. M. de Tocqueville says
in his admirable work on France before the Revolution,
which we hold to be the most valuable and mature of all his
writings, speaking of the year 1788, immediately before the
Revolution : * No sign that I can discover from this distance
' of time announced that the rural population was at all
' agitated. The peasant plodded onwards in his Avonted track.
* That vast section of the nation was still neutral, and, as it
' were, unseen.' He adds, however, in a note, quoting a paper
of the time : ' In some provinces the inhabitants of the country
' are persuaded that they are to pay no more taxes, and that
* they will share among them the property of the landlords.'
M. Taine, however, produces evidence of a more positive kind.
In the four months which preceded the fall of the Bastille, there
were three hundred riots in France. He quotes the reports of
manj^ of them. The object of these disturbances was to obtain
corn and to force the authorities to lower the price of bread.
The proximate cause of this popular discontent was the fright-
ful scarcity that prevailed in France after the bad harvest and
the great hailstorm of the preceding year. The people Avere
starving. Great sacrifices were made to relieve them, but
in fact food Avas wanting. The disorder soon assumed a
political character. The cry of ' Vive la liberte ! ' Avas heard,
and the chief of a department reported : ' In many places it has
14 Taint a Conqutit of the JacubiH)', .J a
' been proclaimed that this is a W)rt of war (lcrlare<l ajrair!
' landowners and ]>rt>i>erty : in the towns as well as in tin-
* country, the iH?oplc declare that they will pay nothing, no
• ta\ef«, no dues, and no debts,' This was in March and April
The commune >vas suddenly invested with ^overeipn power.
AL Taine quotes instances in which a communf pr<K:oeded
to establish ita own constitution aw a sovereign state, and
to apply it* own laws, the first <if which was a partition of
communal property. Some years :\%o, Avhcn the ominous
form of the Commune reajJjK'are*! in French history. w(» en-
deavoured to examine and explain how it happenc<l that the
municipal institutions, which have proved in England and
other countries thr* soed-plot and nursery of public liberty,
had always degenerate<l in France into an instrument of se<li-
tion, disunion, nnd rev«ilution. The cause to which we traced
this phrnomenrm wa^ that in France the communes have con-
tinually assumed jxilitical antl even military powers. M. Taine
has added very largely to what we knew on this subjec't, and
has brought to light numerous examples which confirm our
opinion. There still exist in the Archives o\' France ninety-
four thick volumes of manuscri[tt njiorts from the local autho-
rities to the Government, whieh are fille«l with instances of
the violence and illegality pervading the communes. M.
Taine's pages teem with events borrowe<l from these authentic
records. As early as September 1789 the commanding officers
reported that the troops would only obey the municipalities.
The King's forces could not move from one garrison to
another. Arnay-le-Duc arrested the King's aunts on their
way to Savoy; Arcis-sur-Aubc stopped M. Necker: Mon-
tigny tried to detain a French ambassador. Com could no
longer be brought to market, but was seized by annetl bands
on the high n)ad : the conse<|uence was a recurrence of local
famines. Yet. strange to say. no attempt was made, cither by the
Goverrjment or the upper clasues or the peaceable part ol* the
p(»pulation, to resist and check these disortlers. The nobles
and the gentry apj)ear tamely to have accepted their fate.
M. Taine can discover but «me man who seems to have ima-
gmed the possibility of resistance, one Froment, a Ixturgeois
of Nime», and he perishe<l in the attempt. The go<Hl and the
bad, the generous and the extortionate, the liberal and the
ooosenrative, were denounce«l with e<|ual fury, and robbed or
plaoghtcred with equal atrocity. ' Fn>m the thnme of the
* firince to the manse of the cure,' exclaimed Mallet-du-Pan,
* the whirlwind ha« swept away the resignc<l victinis of tho
1 sM2. Tniiirs CoiK/inst of t/ic Jarofnn.^. 15
' Kovolutiou: no rosistjince has been attctujitccl. Could It liavo
en foreseen tlint within two years France wonUl still he an
' :iiena in which wild beasts should prey on unanned men?'
It is impossible for us to follow in these pa^es the hideous
details of tliis period whicli IVI. Tiiine has accunndated ; but
no one can know what the Revolution really Avas in the pro-
vinces without havini; read tliein.
The most conspicuous and astonishinj^ example of this
provincial and connnunal Home Rule is that which occurred
ni the S(mth-cast of France. The cities of the Province (for
Trovencc still retains its name derived from antiipiity) trace
their history to the fotmdation of the old Ivoinan municipali-
ties. They have always been distinguished by a spirit oi
local indej^endence, and (as is too common among near neigh-
bours) of mutual rivalry and hatred. Marseilles, Aix, Aries,
and Avifnon form a ])eculiar quadrilateral. The first cflTcct
of the Revolution Avas to throw them into a state of anarchy
and civil Avar. As early as August 17.17tH), M. Lieutand, the
commander of the National (Juard of Marseilles, a sort of
hounjroia Lafayette, and the chief of the moderate party, Avas
deposed bv a horde of brigands, and Marseilles was aban-
doned to s(»me 4(),(K)0 ])au]>ers and adventurers, many of them
foreigners, for M. r»lanc (iilly declared that Marseilles con-
tained ' the froth of crimes throAvn up fi'om the ])risons yii'
'Genoa, Riedmont, Sicily. Spain, the tlreek islands, and the
* Barbary coast.' These rutlians mastered the Municipal
Assembly, from which all the respectable iidmbitanls of the
toAvn AvithdrcAv, and under the guidance of the .lacnbin Club
they formed a league Avhich assumed the functions of a sove-
reign state and scarcely acknowledged any authority in the
King's Government. Three commissioners sent by the As-
sembly to restore order Avere maltreated and outraged. A
SAviss regiment which alone remained faithful Avas cinnpellcd
to decamp. And at last a thoroughly tiacobin toAvn council
thrcAv oil the yoke of France and established in Marseilles a
republic of armed men and robbers, Avhich taxed the peo])le,
and set about the armed cinupiest of the department. They
first marched on Aix Avith six pieces of cannon, seized the forts
and barracks, and installed a revolutionary council there.
Thence they j>roeeeded to attack Aries.
'On March 21) (1792), the Marsoillais breached the undofendod
Avails of Arlca with rnnnon-t>alls, (lom oil shed tho fortifications, and
levied a contribution of 1, 100, (»()(> livrc?* on tho tK^)wn. In defianciM'f
tho dorrcc of the National AsscniMy, tli(> I\lounai(hrrs, the long-shore
men, and tho populaoo rnshed to arnjs, and tyrannisod over the defence-
IG Taiiie's Coiiqnest of the Jacohina. Jan.
less ])opulati(in. Tlie victorious party proceeded to imprison, to smite,
to kill with impunity. Numbers of (piiet citizens are cruelly beaten,
dragged to prison, or morLnlly wounded. An old soldier of eighty,
living in the country, is killed by a blow from a musket after lying
twenty days in prison; women were flogged; all the citizens interested
in the maintenance of law and order, to the number of 5,000 families,
Hed ; their houses were pillaged, and all along the road from Aries to
Marseilles, the rulfians who formed the bulk of the Marseillais army
were gorged with spoil as in a conquered country. " On epie le
" moment favorable," says a letter from the village of Maussane, "pour
" devaster toutes les proprietes et specialement les maisons de cam-
" pagne. " ' *
And then tlie examples follow in greater number than we
can quote. But the fate of Aix and Aries was tolerable in
comparison with the atrocities committed at Avignon. The
government of the county of Avignon by the Popes had been
mild but lax. The absence of taxation and the tolerance of
the police had attracted to the city the worst characters of the
neighbouring districts. The Jacobins easily recruited their
army, and their first act was to drive away the Legate, to
depose the magistrates who were called ' Consuls/ to hang the
officers of the National Guard and iho. magistrates, and to
take their places. Seven of these obnoxious persons, gentle-
men, priests, and artisans, were hanged on June 11, 1790, by
the mob.
' The band then formed an army, whose word of command was
license and whose pay Avas pillage — an army like that of Tilly or
Wallenstein — "awandering Sodom, which the ancient Sodom would have
" abhorred." Of some 3,000 men, only 200 were natives of Avignon :
the rest consisted of deserters, smugglers, convicts, foreign robbers and
malefactors, who flocked from afar, even from Paris ; and with them
marched their women, more foul and sanguinary than themselves.
Their first act was to murder their General Patrix, as a traitor, because
he had released a prisoner, and to put in his place a highwayman
Avho had been condemned to death by the court at Valence, but had
escaped on the eve of his execution, one Jourdan, nicknamed Coupe-
tetes, because he was said to have cut off the heads of two of the
King's guards at Versailles on October G.
* Under such a leader the troops soon rose to 5,000 or G,000, called
Mandrins, who infested the country. At Cavaillon they exacted
25,000 livres; at Baume, 12,000; at Aubignon, 15,000; Caumont was
taxed at 2,000 livres a Aveek. At Sarrians, Avhere the mayor surren-
dered the keys of the town to them, the houses Avere sacked, thirty-six
wagonloads of plunder Averc carried off, and the Avretches burnt.
* Mercure dc France, 18 fevrier 1792.
1882. Taine's Conquest of tJie Jacobins. 17
ravished, and slaughtered with the ferocity of Red Indians ; an old
lady of eighty, paralysed, was shot and thrown bleeding into the flames ; a
child of five was cut in halves, its mother beheaded, its sister mutilated.
They cut off the ears of the cuie, stuck them on his forehead, then
killed him and a pig at the same time, tore out their hearts, and danced
upon them. For fifty days all round Carpentras these fiends gave way
to the cannibal instincts of the worst criminals, nay of maniacs.'
For all this, and a great deal more which we shall not inflict
on our readers, M. Taine produces complete authority in
chapter and verse. Such was the state of the country of
Petrarch, of the Colonnas, of the Popes of the fourteenth
century ! It would require another Dante to describe such an
Inferno.
The city of Avignon trembled at the monsters to whom it
had given an asylum, and not without reason. Three hundred
and fifty assassins led by Jourdan, the Jacobin Mainville,
and the apothecary Mende, terrorised a population of 30,000
souls. They fired cannon into a church, half evacuated.
They seized citizens of every rank, and on October 16 and
following days they massacred sixty-one victims, and thrcAV
the bodies down the tower of the Glaciere in the old papal
palace of Avignon, and covered them wdth quicklime. A
hundred more, slaughtered In the streets, were thrown into the
Sorgues — belle, fresche, cliiare acque — five hundred families
fled the city.
' These were the friends of the Jacobins of Aries and of Marseilles,'
exclaims M. Taine, 'these were the honourable men whoniM. d'Anton-
nelle (the mayor) harangued in the Cathedral of Avignon; these are the
pure patriots, Avith their hand on the piirse and their feet in blood,
put down at last by a French army, and tried with scrupulous minuteness
(for no fewer than 335 witnesses gave evidence on the trial), but who
were nevertheless included by the Legislative Assembly in the amnesty
which preceded their crimes, and eventually returned to Avignon in
triumph ! M. Jourdan went back to his business of robbing on the
highway.
' Thus was the conquest of the Jacobins achieved. Already in
April, 1792, by means almost as violent as those we have just described,
it extended over twenty departments, and, v/ith less ferocity, over the
rest of France. The issue of the conflict was everywhere the same : the
aggressive knot of unscrupulous fanatics, of resolute adventurers and
greedy vagabonds, imposed its domination on the sheep-like majority,
which, accustomed to the regularity of an old civilisation, dared not
trouble order to put down disorder, and feared to rise against insurrec-
tion. The principle of the Jacobins was everywhere the same. Their
system was to act imperturbably on all occasions, even after a constitu-
tion had been voted and the limits of power defined, as if the empire
was still iu revolt, as if they were clothed with a dictatorship necessary
TOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. C
18 Tains' s Conquest of the Jacobins. Jan.
to the safety of the commonwcilth, as if they were invested with every
power in the name of public safety. Everywhere their tactics wen
the same to chiim a monopoly of patriotism, imtil, by the brutal de-
struction of all other societies, they became the sole apparent organ of
public opinion. The voice of their coterie became the voice of the
people ; their ascendency was established over all legal authorities ;
they advanced by continual and irresistible encroachments, and im-
punity siinctioued their n.surpation.' (P. 179.)
These are Aveighty words, not only ])ecause tliey denote tlic
true spirit of the French Revolution, but because they are thr-
life of all revolutionary movements and pai'ties. The men
who have lived through the present century have a large ex-
perience of revolutions. Scarcely twenty years have at any
time elapsed without some fresh eruption of popular violence
overturning thrones, trampling on laws, and establishing some
short-lived sanguinary tyranny which perished by its own
violence imder military repression. These convulsions have
swept away many abuses, though they have done but little to
ensure the permanent freedom, progress, and happiness of
mankind. But they have taught us two great lessons. The
first, that political revolutions have almost always been caused
by the folly and weakness of governments more than by the
discontent of the people ; the second, that these catastrophes
have been brought about by small minorities of the population
and by the least respectable portion of it. The great bulk of
a nation is slow to adopt visionary and violent schemes which
war against all the great social interests of a community ; but
they are incapable of self-defence ; they look to the government
and the law to protect them ; and as the government of France
failed to perform that duty, it signed its own destruction and
abandoned the country to ruin. The chief merit of M. Taine's
work appeal's to us to be that he has elicited and illustrated
these general principles more clearly than any other writer who
has dealt with the same evidence. He has pointed out with con-
summate ability that whenever a legal government and lawful
authority fail a lawless government takes its place. Sovereignty
must everywhere and at all times reside somewhere, and if it
descends from the throne or the Parliament, it sinks into the
club or the street. But there are never two sovereignties, and
if one rises to supremacy, the other is extinct. It might be
j)ossible to illustrate this proposition by more recent examples,
but we prefer to leave it to the sagacity and experience of our
readers to find them out; and we return to the immediate
subject of the work before us.
The Jacobin Club in Paris could never have acquired the
1882. Tailless Conquest of the Jacobins. 19
terrible power which it exercised over the Assembly and the
Oovernment, if it had not struck its roots in every part of the
country. Most of the occurrences to which Ave have briefly
referred, and which M. Taine relates with far greater detail,
look place very early in the Ke volution — in 1789, 1790, 1791
— and soon after the establishment of the Constitution. The
country was Avholly demoralised and terrorised by the Jacobin
party. Hence that party was enabled, when a system of elec-
tions was introduced for all offices, both political and municipal,
to repel every candidate who leaned to the cause of order, and
to carry every candidate who joined in the work of destruction.
It was by this all-pervading influence throughout the kingdom
that they acquired their power in the Legislative Assembly and
in every municipal body. The government and the administra-
tion were alike at their mercy. The representatives of the nation
■were the representatives of the Jacobin Club. When a re-
volutionary party succeeds by its organisation in mastering the
-elections, by driving away the moderate candidates and electors,
and by appointing its own candidates, it strikes at the heart of
parliamentary government, and the liberties of the country are
•at the mercy of a faction. The representatives of the nation
Sbve not its true representatives, but its tyrants.
The influence of the Jacobins was great in the Legislative
Assembly, but it was far greater in the Convention, whose
members were returned after the fall of the monarchy on
August 10, and the massacres in the prisons of Paris in the
iirst days of September. In that climax of the Kevolution,
* Ce sont les sans-culottes, c'est la crapule et la canaille de
•* Paris,' said the patriot Palloy, ' etje me fais gloire d'etre de
* cette classe, qui a vaincu les soi-disant honnetes gens.' ' Three
^ thousand workmen,' wrote the Girondin Soulavie, ' made the
^ revolution of August 10 against the reign of the Feuillants,
* against the majority of the capital and of the Legislative
* Assembly.' The first days of September witnessed six days
and five nights of uninterrupted slaughter — 171 murders at
the Abbaye, 169 at La Force, 223 at the Chatelet, 328 at
the Conciergerie, 73 at the Tour St. Bernard, 120 at the
€armes, 79 at Saint-Firmin, 170 at Bicctre, and 35 at the
Salpetriere ; the prisons of Paris were emptied ! Amongst
the victims were 250 priests, three bishops or archbishops,
several judges, an ex-Minister, a princess of the blood royal,
the noblest names in France, and by their side a negro, a
few women of humble life, boys, convicts, paupers — none
were spared. The man whom M. Taine does not hesitate to
charge with the chief part in these intolerable crimes is Danton
20 Taines Contjucst of the Jacobins. Jan.
— Danton, wlio, by reason of his energy, is rather a favourite
Avith the ai)oh)<rists of the Revolution. He was in fact a leader
of men ; Danton reigned, and might boast of September 2, as
he boasted of August 10, ' I did it.' He said himself to the
father of M. Philippe de Segur, some weeks after these events',
' We arc the dregs of the people, we have risen from the gutter,
' and with ordinary conduct we should be sent back there. Wo
* can only govern by fear. The Parisians are ; a river
' of blood must flow between them and the emigration.' And
then he added the well-known Avords : 'To conquer the enemies of
* France, il faut de I'audace, et encore de I'audace, et toujour.-
* de I'audace.'
It is not our purpose, however, to dAvell on these horror-
which lose nothing in M. Taine's narrative. Our object is t^
show their political effect on the course of the devolution
In the earlier years it was the disorganised state of the coun
try which enabled the Jacobins to establish their power in tli
communes and to react on the Assembly in Paris. Froir
August 10 their victory was complete; they Avere masters oi
Paris, of the Assembly, and of France. The nation would
then have receded, if it had been possible, for it had learned
the cost of a revolution. But it Avas too late. The tyranny
of the Mountain and the Commune de Paris was established.
It had entirely usurped the vacant seat of government. Yet,
Avith the exception of Danton, there Avas scarcely a man among
these rulers of ordinary talent. Danton himself described them
* as un tas de b ignorants, n'ayant pas le sens commun, et
' patriotes seulement quand ils sent souls.' Of another ordc
of minds Avas Saint- Just. This is Avhai M. Taine says c-
him: —
'Yet among these energetic nullities, one young man, of a calm avi
handsome jDliysiognomy, a sort of precocious Sylla, Avho coming latv
and only twenty-five years of age, rose from the ranks and by sLct
atrocity Avon a place. Six years before he had begun his career by ;;
domestic robbery ; Avhilst staying Avith his mother he carried off one
night her plate and jcAvels, Avhich he spent in a Ioav house in the IlxW'
Fromenteau, in the centre of Parisian debauchery ; for this act he av;!^
shut up at the request of his family in a house of confinement. Onlp
return liome he employed his leisure in composing a filthy poem in tl
style of La Pucelle, and then Avith a convulsive spasm flung himsi
into the Revolution. To understand the character of Saint- Just read tl
letter addressed by him to Aubigny on July 20, 1792 : "I am devoured,
he said, " by a republican fever Avhich consumes me. I feel that I haA ■:
"that Avithin Avhich Avill rise in this age. You are all coAvards Avlio
" cannot appreciate me. My palm Avill rise and will overshadow you.
" Wretches that you are, I am a scoundrel and a cheat because I have no
1582. Taincs Conquest of the Jacohluit. 21
" money to give you ? Pluck out my heart and eat it ; you will then
" become, what you are not, great men."' (Tome iii. p. 421.)
It must be said that M. Taine's portraits of the revolutionary
heroes are not wanting in force, or, we believe, in resemblance.
History has no amnesty for such abominable beings ; they are
doomed to everlasting infamy. Yet there are those, even at
the present day, who profess to admire, and Avould perhaps
repeat, their crimes. We prefer, however, to revert to the
political aspect of the Jacobin government, and to pass over
the rest in silence.
The immediate effect of these acts of violence was to give
the Jacobins the command of the elections which returned the
National Convention. Terror had fallen upon the vast ma-
jority of the electors. The electoral colleges became clubs of
the most furious description, and they expelled or proscribed
their political opponents. In Paris, in the Aisne, in the
Haute-Loire, in Ile-et-Vilaine, in Maine-et-Loire, the mem-
bers of the moderate opposition were excluded. Vote by
ballot was suppressed because it afforded a protection to the
weaker brethren. At Meaux and at Keims, whilst the electors
were convoked, the cries of priests who Avere being murdered
were heard. At Lyons, two days after the massacre, the
Jacobin commandant writes to the Minister : ' The catastrophe
' which has just taken place, and driven away the aristocrats,
"* secures to us the majority in Lyons.' Even when a mode-
rate candidate had the majority, he was not returned, but
thrown into prison. In some places, in Franche-Comte for
instance, numerous elections w-ere annulled because the deputy
chosen was a Catholic. The results of universal suffrage,
thus tortured and perverted, were curiously at variance with
the real sentiments of the population, as was shortly after-
wards demonstrated. All Brittany sent to the Convention
anti-Catholic republicans, yet those same departments soon
proved themselves the nursery of the great Catholic and
royalist insurrection. Three regicides, out of four members,
represented La Lozere, where six months later 30,000 peasants
were marching under the white flag. Six regicides, out of
nine members, represented La Vendee, which was about to
rise en masse in the name of the King.
Yet, in spite of this tremendous pressure which falsified the
elections, the Convention was not originally as Jacobin as
might be supposed. It contained out of 749 deputies only
fifty or sixty who were declared supporters of the Commune.
Seventy-seven members had sat in the Constituent Assembly ;
186 in that which succeeded it. They were all republicans,
22 Tainr's Conquest of the Jacobins. Jaii^
but they were not assassins. The Phiine, as it was called in
contradistinction to the Mountain, counted no fewer than 50O
deputies, including 180 Girondins Avho h'.d it. Nevertheless
this same Convention, Avithin three months, voted the death of
Louis XVI. They voted it, as is abundantly shown, under
the influence of terror and in defiance of their own solemn,
declarations, to save their lives. On the eve of the judgment
Vergniaud himself, the most eloquent of the Girondins, said
to jNI. de Scgur, ' What ! I vote for his execution ! It is an
' insult to think me capable of so base an action.' He en-
larged on the danger and iniquity of it, adding ' Thouo-h I
* were alone of my opinion, I would not vote his death.' On
the morrow he threw his vote into the fatal urn ! The
Girondins were the type of sentimental and philosophical
politicians. They Avere a sect rather than a party, believing
that salvation lay in their own generous and elevated con-
ception of public liberty. They had to learn, and the world
learned through them, that high moral motives and purity of
conduct are not the only weapons to be used against crime,
conspiracy, and all the baser forms of popular violence. ' Nos
' philosophes,' said Schmidt, ' veulent tout gagner par la per-
' suasion. Ces hommes-la n'ont ete et ne sont encore que des
* sots a cote d'un coupe-tcte muni d'un bon sabre.' In elo-
quence they were supreme. Finer language has never been
addressed to a political assembly. But "it is the curse of the
gift of eloquence that it deceives those Avho possess it. Thev
forget that words are but air. And so it came to pass that
the noble sentiments and generous speeches of the Girondins
were shivered like glass against the compact organisation of
the Jacobin Club and the Commune de Paris, fearing nothing,
believing nothing, daring all things.
It was not, however, by terror only that the Jacobins
established their ascendency over France; it was also by
bi-ibes, for the entire patronage of the country was in their
hands, partly by popular election, and partly by government
nomination. No sooner was the Convention installed than it
decreed the absolute and complete renewal of the Avhole
administrative and judicial service ; all the local councils, all
the judicial offices, Avere to be filled with its nominees. The
profession of lawyers as a class was abolished, so that a man
might become a judge, not only without knowledge of law, but
Avithout knowing how to read. The whole staff of the
National Guard was re-elected. The employes of the post-
office, the tax collectors, surveyors, notaries, municipal
1882. Taine's Conquest of the Jacobins. 23
officers, down to the chamber keepers and sweepers, were all
to be pure Jacobins. The same rule was applied to the
tradesmen and contractors who supplied the articles required
by the Government, which was spending 200,000,000 francs a
month on the war. Everything by which a centime could be
gained was snatched as the spoil of war. M. Taine computes
that one million three hundred thousand offices and appoint-
ments {treize cent mille places are his words) were thus dis-
posed of. No wonder that this enormous patronage produced
its effect at a time when every sort of place was eagerly
coveted, and when every man who had previously held office
could be removed by a denunciation. AVe have heard of
something of the same kind in other countries and in less
agitated times. This general renewal of offices in favour of a
victorious faction is one of the most powerful incentives to
party warfare, and one of the Avorst consequences of democratic
revolution. It sacrifices men who have served their country ;
it inflames the bad passions of those who seek to profit by it ; and
in the end the public is worse served. Add to this the tempta-
tion to multiply places in order to gratify political supporters,
and the fact that in France, during the Revolution, the depu-
ties of the Mountain sold them* Indeed, the corruption of the
faction was equal to its ferocity. Four hundred places were
given away by Pache, four hundred more by Chaumette, and
the Commune of Paris drew 850,000 francs a month for its
military police. Full pay was issued to regiments which were
reduced to a skeleton. Madame Roland writes that the sums
of money of which no account could be given amounted to 130
millions.
Nevertheless neither terror nor patronage, neither plunder
nor massacre, could attach the population of Paris to this mon-
strous caricature of authority. There was no employment ; the
necessaries of life were excessively dear ; instead of 7,000 or
8,000 bullocks at the market of Poissy, there were 400.
Paris besieged in 1870 was not much nearer starvation from the
want of corn and meat than Paris under the Jacobin rule of
1792. M. Taine relates, which is new to us, that these
sufferings had revived, not extinguished, the religious feelings
of the people. When the Host was carried along the streets
to the dying, multitudes of men, women, and children flung
themselves on their knees to adore it. On the day of the
* M. Taine produces evidence in support of these statements
(p. 369).
24 Taiiics Conquest of the Jacobins. Jan.
])rocessioii of the shrine of St. Leu, not a man but took off his
hat, and the guard of the Section Mauconseil turned out under
arras. Even tlie ' dames de la Halle ' compelled the revolu-
tionary committee to authorise the great procession of St.
Eustache, and hung out their carpets. Everyone kneeled
as it passed, some with tears in their eyes. Dutard records
as his opinion, that if the question could be j)ut to the
vote whether all the members of the Convention should be
guillotined, nineteen-twentieths of the population would
support it. Meanwhile, by one of those strange contrasts
which scarcely present themselves to the imagination, the
number of persons belonging to the upper classes remaining in
Paris was still reckoned at 40,000, and these might be seen on
a fine day of spring, on the eve of the Reign of Terror in
1792, fluttering down the right-hand avenue of the Champs-
Elysces in charming dresses, with the gaiety of their race, and
an utter indifference to public affairs. ' Sheep for the sham-
^ bles I ' sternly exclaims M. Taine. Where Avere they in the
following year ?
Conscious of their unpopularity and of the precarious
nature of a power resting on such foundations, the Jacobins
had, at an earlier period of the Revolution, discovered that
the essential condition of their success, as opposed to the
Constitutional Party, lay in War. Brissot said in his address
to the Republicans of France (October 4, 1792) : 'The aboli-
* tion of royalty was what I had in view when I framed the
'declaration of war.' And again : ' We were continually met
*by the Constitution, and the Constitution could only be over-
thrown by Avar. As long as peace lasted it was not possible
* to change the religion and the dynasty of France, or to
* retain the supreme power in our hands.' Once launched in a
war against all the thrones of Europe, which compelled the
nation to sustain a death-struo-Gi;le for existence, and all retreat
was cut off. Yet, strangely enough, the Girondins contributed
as much as, or more than, the pure Jacobins to this desperate
enterprise. Couthon, Collot d'Herbois, Danton, Robespierre,
for once hesitated. It was Brissot * who declared war; it was
Vergniaud who defended it. The great bulk of the revolu-
tionary party demanded it — men ignorant alike of foreign
politics, of international law, and of military affairs. The
* Brissot Avas not a minister, but he was a leading member of the
Committee of the Convention for Foreign Affairs. The declaration of
war against Germany was notoriously forced upon the King and his
ministers by the Convention.
1882. Taine^s Conquest of the Jacobins. 25
King was but a cipher in their hands, for he, at least, foresaw
no good results from such a contest. The guide and governor
of the foreign relations of France at that moment was Brissot,
who became for a few months, by the ignorance and obscurity
of his colleagues, the most notorious personage in Europe.
As far as any European calamity can be attributed to an indi-
vidual, this lies at his door. We will quote M. Taine's descrip-
tion of this personage in the original, as a specimen of the vitu-
perative style of this Avriter, for which we confess that we
cannot easily find adequate expressions in our own language.
' C'est ce malheureux, ne dans une boutique de ptitissier, eleve dans
nne boutique de procureur, ancien agent de police a 150 irancs par mois,
ancien associe des marchands de difFamation et des entrepreneurs de
chantage, aventurier de phime, brouillon et touche-a-tout, qui, avec ses
demi-renseignenients de nomade, ses quarts d'idee de gazettier, son
erudition de cabinet litteraire, son barbouillage de mauvais ecrivain,
ses declamations de clubbiste, decide des destinees de la France, et
dechaine sur I'Europe une guerre qui detruira six millions de vies. Du
fond du galetas ou sa femme bJanchit ses chemises, il est bien aise de
gourmander les potentats, et pour commencer, le 20 octobre, il insulte
trente souverains etrangers a la tribune. " La guerre," s'ecria-t-il, " est
" actuellement un bienfait national, et la seule calamite qu'il y ait n
" redouter, c'est de n'avoir pas la guerre." '
But this shall be the last of M. Taine's portraits, which
have somewhat the air of vulfjar exajjQ-eration. M. de Saint-
Simon could paint men in colours as dark, but without con-
tortions.
The real value of M. Taine's work, as we said at the com-
mencement of this article, lies, not in the vivid pictures he
draAvs here and there of events and characters, but in the lesson
which this survey of the French Revolution holds up to man-
kind for all time. Whenever a compact, truculent, and lawless
minority, having for its leaders the worst, and for its followers
the lowest, of the community, succeeds in overriding the true
canons and representatives of aiithority by inflaming the
passions of oue set of men and by acting on the fears of others,
by securing a sanction to acts of violence and impunity to ci'ime,
by concealing the gripe of tyranny under the mask of patriot-
ism, there is an end of law, of freedom, and of peace. Men
are tossed about like atoms in the surge of the ocean; they are
no longer free to follow their inclinations, to protect their inte-
rests, or even to discharge their duties. They are therefore
profoundly demoralised, for the landmarks of right and wrong
are removed; the prophets prophesy false things; and the path
along which the masses are lured or driven ends in an abyss. To
such a state of things there is, we fear, but one remedy, which
26 3Iodern Italian Poets: Jan.
is to restore the authority of the law and the Constitution by
military power. That is what the ministers of Louis XVI.
totally failed to do, and it would seem, from the numerous de-
fections and desertions of the troops, that no reliance could be
placed on the discipline of the King's army. The terrible
lesson therefore lasted for several years, and was at last brought
to a close by other hands. In France the Jacobins triumphed.
But in the freest State the world has ever seen, the Union of
the North American commonwealths, a direct attack on the
supreme sovereignty of the nation was held to be treason, more
clearly than it was ever defined by the laws of mediasval Eng-
land, and it was repressed by the combined forces of a million
of armed citizens. The Americans preferred the enormous
evil of civil war to the greater evil of allowing the authority of
the State to be overthrown by a factious minority in any part
of it. They judged rightly ; for a State which allows its laws
to be broken, its authority defied, and its regular forces to be
insulted and attacked with impunity, deserves to perish.
Aet. II. — 1. Nerone. Commedia in cinque atti ed in versi.
Di PiETRO CossA. Milano: 1878.
2. Plauto e il suo !Secolo. Commedia in versi. Di Pietro
CosSA. Milano: 1876.
3. Teatro in Versi. Di Pietro Cossa, Torino: 1877-81.
4. Poesie Liriche. Di PiETRO CosSA. Milano: 1876.
5. Poesie. Di GiosuE Carducci (' Enotrio Romaxo ').
Terza edizione preceduta da una biografia. Firenze : 1878.
6. n Canto deir Amove. Di GiOSUE Carducci. Bologna :
1878.
7. Odi Barbare. Di GiOSUE CarduCCI. Terza edizione.
Bologna: 1880.
OiNCE Italy has recovered her freedom and her independence,
she presents to the world another Renascence of literary
power, not altogether unworthy of the beauty of her language
and the genius of the nation. But like the Renascence which
marked with so much lustre the close of the fifteenth century, this
revival of Italian letters has an essentially pagan character. Her
modern poets are umanisti, like those who adorned the Courts of
the Medici. It would seem as if, wherever the light of Chris-
tian faith and Christian morality is obscured, the Latin race
lapses into classical forms, with something of classical elegance
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 27
and classical philosophy, but tinctured with pagan vices and
pagan ferocity. Of late years this tendency of literary thought
and sentiment in Italy towards classic paganism has been mark-
edly increasing, especially since the establishment of the capital
at Rome. The chief glories connected with the Eternal City
in an Italian mind are not the confessors and apostles, not the
Christian martyrs, not even the splendour and supremacy of the
Papacy, the last inheritance of the old universal empire of Italy.
The traditional glories of Rome which now attract their imagina-
tion and fire their patriotism are all pagan. Paganism repre-
sents to them growth, grandeur, power, fame : Christianity
(inextricably associated in their minds with the Papacy)
typifies decay, defeat, dissolution. It is difficult for an
Englishman to realise how completely Catholicism, as a
political institution, stands for religion in the Italian mind.
The pious and the non-pious alike accept the two things as
identical and synonymous. It is not our present business to
examine into the causes of this fact, which is rooted in the
fundamental conditions of the national character. But it de-
serves notice that in Italy some of the most daring innovators,
the most revolutionary radicals in politics and sociology, are
at the same time inflexible purists in Hterature, and ardent
worshippers of classic correctness of form and diction. An
instinctive affinity of mental temperament has, perhaps, some-
thing to do with this predilection. The study of the Latin
authors has for them an interest beyond that of philology or
archaeology, and even beyond the artistic delight in master-
pieces of language. There is a subtle bond of kindred be-
tween the modern Italian and his classic forefathers which
does not exist between them and men of northern race. And
this consideration may help us to comprehend the passionate
paganism of some Italian Avriters of the present day, who to-
the intelligent appreciation of scholarship add the inherited
instincts of race.
Of the writers whose works we are about to consider, Pietro
Cossa is the poet to whom this passionate paganism can with
least justice be attributed. He is attracted by classical
subjects, and by the greatness of ancient Rome ; but he is at
the same time fully conscious of her monstrous corruption and
her inhuman tyranny. His earlier poems are filled with
allusions to the liberating force of Christianity ; and even in
the play of ' Messalina,' which was written in the meridian of
his powers, the pure figure of the Christian slave-girl in the
Suburra is introduced in vivid contrast with the careless ma-
terialism of her pagan companions, and the coarse brutality of
28 Modern Itcdum Poets: Jan.
her pagan master. But the truth is that Cossa's genius,
essentially dramatic, does not concern itself with philosophic
theories. l*hilosoj)hic theories may, no doubt, be deduced
from his plays, as they may be deduced from the facts of life.
But they form no part of the author's design : at most they
are tacitly involved in the concrete picture which he presents
to us.
In judging of contemporary Italian writers foreigners very
generally mistrust the praise of native critics, Avho are re-
proached with facile enthusiasm, and the indiscriminate appli-
cation of big words to small things. Allowance must, of
course, be made for national temperament and the nature of
the national language. Common usage — ' quem penes arbi-
' trium est, et jus, et norma loquendi ' — everywhere stamps the
market value on the current coins of speech. But when all
this has been allowed for, there still remains considerable truth
in the accusation. Yet Italian writers are not exempt from
the general law Avhich makes the survival of the fittest a
matter of struggle and difficulty ; the unfittest, it is true, are
often hailed by a chorus of eulogistic epithets ending in
issimo. But any talent marked by originality has to contend
with that instinctive hostility towards the new and unac-
customed, which is common to the mass of mankind in Italy
as elsewhere. Pietro Cossa's success, when once achieved,
was brilliant, and was still increasing when he died, in the
August of 1880 ; but it had been long waited for and stoutly
contested.
Cossa was born in Rome in the year 1830. His father was
a native of Arpino, the birthplace of Marius and Cicero, and
the Cossa family counts among its ancestors Pope John
XXIII., who built a splendid palace at Arpino, which is still
inhabited by some of the poet's kinsfolk. Pope John XXIII.
was deposed by the Council of Constance, and does not seem
to have shone by the possession of many Christian virtues —
indeed, the profession of a pirate, which he followed in his
youth, would appear to have been his true vocation. But it
is worth noting, as a matter of curiosity, that this Pontiff was
an author, and wrote Latin verses which are said to have
had considerable merit. Cossa was an ardent patriot from his
youth upwards. When quite a lad he was expelled from the
Collegio Bomano, then conducted by Jesuits, on the score of
heresy and excessive ' Italianism.' From that time forward
ho studied alone. After the fall of the Roriian Republic and
the entry of the French in 1849 he escaped to South America,
but soon returned to Italy even poorer than he went. His
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 29
lyric poems, collected and republished in one volume in 1874,
bear various dates from 1856 to 1870; and the same volume
contains ' Mario e i Cimbri,' a dramatic poem in five acts.
This latter -work was favourably received by the press, but the
author's own opinion was that it would not stand the test of
representation on the stage. In 1870 he emancipated him-
self from ' the Aristotelian ti-ammels ' — to use his own phrase —
and wrote the ' Nero.' This Avas the first of the series of
dramas on classical subjects which have established his fame
in Italy ; but on its first production in Rome it was ' damned
' with faint praise,' and met with a similar fate in other cities.
Discouraged and disgusted by the fate of ' Nero,' he Avas about
to give up writing for the stage, Avhen the unexpected tidings
reached him that the play had been received with enthusiasm
in Milan. From that time his hold on the public became
assured. As he himself modestly says in a letter to Herr
Siegfried Samosch of Berlin, ' Da quel momento comincio in
* Italia la mia piccola fama.' To the end of his days Cossa
was distinguished by a manly self-respecting modesty. He
was by habit and temperament averse from general society,
and lived with the utmost simplicity ; he was, in one sense, a
literary Bohemian, but it was rather after the fashion of Oliver
Goldsmith than of Alfred de Musset. He never struck
attitudes nor talked for effect. With strangers he was some-
what shy and silent; even with friends he Avas seldom lo-
quacious ; but occasionally, among a few intimate companions,
he would talk freely and fluently, eloquent above all in
speaking of the great writers of antiquity with Avhom his
intellectual life had been chiefly passed, and full of shrewd
humour in discussing contemporary men and things. Author-
ship of all kinds is very poorly paid in Italy, and although
Cossa's plays drew large audiences Avhenever they were
represented, he was very far from making a fortune by them —
how far may be judged by the following anecdote, for the
authenticity of which avc can vouch. For some time past Cossa
had been in the habit of producing one drama a year, the
proceeds of which sufficed him to live, and to send constant
assistance to his aged mother, who survives him. But he was
accustomed to tell his friends that he kept by him about two
hundred pounds as a provision for the year in which he should
not be able to write a play, whenever it might arrive. This
Avas thought by most persons to be a jest, as Cossa AA%as re-
markably careless of money. But after his death his intimate
friend and literary executor, Federigo Napoli, found betAveen
tli" leaves of the MS. of his unfinished play, ' Silla,' bank
30 Modern Italian Poets : Jan.
notes for tlic precise sum of five thousand francs roughly
screwed up in paper ! The story is at once characteristic of
the man, and of the pecuniary conditions on which highly
successful literary work still has to be performed in Italy.
' Nero ' is the only one of Cossa's acted dramas to
which he has affixed historical notes. He seems to have felt
the need of justifying his treatment of Nero's character by
the authority of Tacitus and Suetonius. But his subsequent
dramas he left to speak for themselves, having acquired con-
fidence in his own reputation, or possibly more faith in the
erudition of his critics. The student Avill recognise in all his
classical plays how thorough was his knowledge of the Latin
historians and biographers. Even his adversaries were forced
to admit that his classicism was no superficial smattering, but
the result of serious and enthusiastic study. A Roman born
and bred, he was familiar with the topography and the monu-
ments of his native city. He did not view them with an eye
to scientific analysis, but to artistic reconstruction, and nothing
in his works is more remarkable than their absolute freedom
from pedantry. There is no ostentation of antiquarian
learning ; indeed he is always admirably unaffected, and his
style has the simplicity of strength. It has been said of his
versification that it is ' Michelaugiolescamente scolpito.' The
parallel will, at least, hold thus far : that Cossa, when the
alternative is forced on him, always prefers even rough truth
to smooth insincerity. The form of his phrase is a means,
and not an end. In the prologue to ' Nero ' he says of his
own style : —
' L'autor s'attenne
A quella scola che piglia le leggi
Dal verismo ; e stiraando che in ogn' arte
Sia belio il veto, bandi dalla scena
II verso eh' ha romore e non idea.' *
His diction is concise, energetic, and — in the plays written
during the last decade — clear. Only in one or two of his
earlier works, notably in the play of ' Sordello,' do we find
occasional obscurities, and an artificially involved collocation
of Avords. Like greater poets, Cossa has had no scruple in
laying preceding writers under contribution. Not merely inci-
* The language in which poetry is A\Titten is so essential and insepa-
rable a part of it, that we shall not attempt to translate the specimens
of the style of these -writers which we are about to produce. It would
be an injustice to them to do so; for their chief merit consists in the
peculiar elegance and vigour of their diction in the Italian tongue.
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 31
dents and situations, but ideas and phrases, are boldly taken
from Plutarch, Tacitus, Livy, Suetonius, and occasionally, but
more rarely, from the Latin poets. Some of the happiest
strokes in the * Nero,' the ' Messalina,' and the ' Cleopatra '
are simply translations from classic writers.
It would be out of the question to criticise in detail the
dozen or more of Cossa's published plays ; and we must
content ourselves with an examination of one or two which
are more peculiarly marked by the author's special qualities.
The play of ' Nero,' which he chooses to style ' a comedy,' is
as good a representative specimen as can be found of Cossa's
method. It was the first in which he entirely broke away
from tradition, and trusted to his own inspiration, and it has
certain characteristics which, more or less, belong to all his
subsequent productions. To the criticism that his Nero is
always an artist, and never an Emperor, Cossa replies that it
has been answered by Nero himself, who when dying ex-
claimed, ' Qualis artifex pereo,' and not ' Qualis imperator ; '
and he observes that Nero never knew what was meant by
personal dignity, ' The Emperor, therefore,' he writes in his
brief preface to the play, '■ the grave politician wrapped from
* head to foot in the majestic folds of his purple, may exist in
* the imagination of many, but is not to be found in history.
* . . . Much less cruel than Caligula, because in the latter
* cruelty, was innate — a delight — whilst in Nero it arose from
* fear ; more cowardly than a child, superstitious as a woman
' of the populace, a good poet, a good painter, a better
* sculptor, magnificent in building, vainglorious to the point
* of wishing to give his name to Rome, in lewdness lower than
* the beasts — that is Nero ! ' In the prologue Cossa thus
excuses himself for giving the title of ' comedy ' to a play in
which blood is shed and poison administered : —
' Nerone si mostra
Comico stranamente nella sua
Ferocia, e i suoi compagni sono quali
Pote vedei-li Eoma imperiale
In iina eta corrotta, senza fede,
Allegra ne' suoi vizi.' ^
This a little reminds one of Mercury's proposal to the audience,
in the prologue to Plautus's ' Amphitryon : ' —
' Quid contraxistis frontem, quia tragcediam
Dixi futuram banc ? Deus sum ; conmutavero
Eamdem hanc si voltis ; faciam ex tragoedia
Comoedia ut sit, omnibus tsdem versibus^
Tht spectacle has been seen since Plautus of a so-called
32 Modern Italian Poets: Jan.
tragedy turning out to be exqu:sitely comic without changing
a word — ' omnibus isdem versibus ! ' But if Nero's sayings
and doings as represented by Cossa be comedy, they are
comedy of a terribly grim sort. The author had better have
followed Mercury a step further, and declared : —
' Faciam ut conmista sit tragico-comoedia.'
The prologue to ' Nero ' at once strikes the keynote of the
work. It is spoken in the character of Menecrates the
ctthai'osdus, whom Cossa calls the Emperor's buffoon. After
a word or two of introduction the speaker proceeds : —
' II personaggio dalla rea memoria
Che comparir vedrete inanzi a vol
Non e gia quel Nerone delle vecchie
Tragedie, una figura che spaventa
Con gli ocelli, e lento incede sopva ralto
Coturno, e fatti a suono di misura
Tre passi, dice i;na parola ancli' essa
Misiirata, e prescelta fea le truci
Di nostra lingua. II mio Nerone, — io dissi
Mio, perche sono il suo bufFone, — e nn' altra
Cosa ; egli e lieto sempre, e buono mai.'
The action of the play is comprised within brief limits.
In the first scene the revolt of Julius Vindex in Gaul
is announced, and the play ends with the flight and death of
Nero after hearing of the proclamation of Galba. The Em-
peror is first introduced in the act of dictating verses to a
freedman, when Menecrates enters and announces that two
persons wait without to be admitted to Cajsar's presence —
Cluvius Rufus, the chief of the senators, and Ecloge, a Greek
dancing girl whom Nero has seen and admired in the theatre
on the previous day. To the surprise of Menecrates, Nero
chooses to receive the senator first, saying ironically, * The
' business of the Empire before all ! ' But the true reason of
his haste to see Cluvius Rufus is soon apparent. Before the
senator can narrate his errand, and in answer to his first
greeting, ' II Senato a Nerone invia salute ! ' Nero replies: —
' Grazie agl' Iddii 1' abbiamo, e vigorosa.
Pero t' insegneremo uno che langue
In periglio di vita, e cli' ha bisogno
Di tutte le cure dei Padri Coscritti :
11 nostro erario.'
Urged on by the hints of Menecrates that whilst the Imperial
treasury is empty, there are many rich patricians who possess
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 33
magnificent villas, Nero suggests to Rufus that Cassius
Longinus is an enemy to Caesar and the State. The Senate,
he declares,
' fi il custode
Delle leggi, e accusar deve i nemici
Deir imperio, e punirli ; — io non pretendo
Che i diritti del fisco.
Menecrate. I piu odiatl ! '
Cossa represents Nero as having ordered the death of Cassius
Liongimis, accused of no other crime than preserving in his
liouse a statue of Brutus the tyrannicide. This is not quite
historically accurate. Cassius Longinus appears to have
been merely banished, not killed ; and the crime attributed
to him, according to Suetonius, was keeping in a genea-
logical record of his family the image of his ancestor Cassius,
the murderer of Julius Ctesar. The latter circumstance,
indeed, Cossa mentions in a footnote. At any rate, no
injustice is done to the Emperor's character by attributing to
him the death of Cassius Longinus, who stands in the play as
a typical example of the frivolous pretences Avhich sufficed to
Nero for the most ferocious deeds.
Rufus at length is able to announce his news : there is a
tamult amono- the leofions in Gaul, and one cohort has dared
to salute Vindex Emperor. Nero's tone instantly changes to
one of anxiety and even terror. There are two chords Avhich,
however lightly touched, inevitably draw from him an earnest
utterance : one of these is his artistic talent ; the other, his per-
sonal safety. Alternately careless, ironical, indolent, amorous,
or ferocious, his moods succeed each other with the rapidity of
cloud-shadows in a gale. But there is one thing intense and
real in this unstable nature — its egotism. On hearing Rufus's
• -I •
tidings, he bursts out : —
' II vero
Is an-i ? . . . Per tutti i numi dell' Olimpo
E dello Stige, io qui dichiaro Vindice
Nemico della patria ! Ei ceda tosto
L' esercito, e ritorni a render conto
Di sua perduellione.* . . . Ma fidarmi
Posso di te ? . . . Via, park ! Io sono ancora
L' imperatore ? '
Rufus assures him of his own and the Senate's fidelity ; and,
in the name of the Patres Conscripti, implores the Emperor
* This word perduellione, for treason, is a pure Latinisna. It is not
to be found in the ' Vocabolario Delia Crusca.'
VOL. CLY. NO. CCCXVII. D
34 Modern Italian Poets . Jan.
graciously to consent that tlie month of April be thenceforward
called after the imperial name Neroniano. Nero not only
accedes to this flattering request, but adds that it would be
very fitting to call Rome by his name also. From this he
takes occasion to vaunt the splendid edifices with which he has
enriched the city ; and finally dismisses Rufus in tlie follow-
ing characteristic manner : —
' Va dunque,
Buon Eufo ; e sappia il popolo ch' io stesso
Oggi daro spettacolo cantando
Nel pubblico teatro. Ammireranno
L' Edipo Re. Che artista sovrumano
Quel Sofocle ! Che linipida armonia
Di concetti e di versi !
\_Correndo dietro a Eufo, die fa per uscire,
Una parola
Ancor, buon Eufo : Vindice sia teste
Eichiamato. . . . M' intendi ? — II traditore
Trovera la sua crece.'
Immediately on the departure of Rufus, Nero commands
Menecrates to introduce the dancing girl, and then to with-
•»■»':;;, draw ; observing cynically that the buffoon harmonises well
i^:*--,-, -'^jiough -svith the chief of 'our good Senate,' but that his gro-
■■' ■ •; t^que countenance would be as much out of keeping in the
,;,^j:' jfrj^sence of youthful beauty as a barbarian's cithern accom-
':'. jj^-panying a verse of Homer. The rest of the act is chiefly
', .";■ ©ipcupied with the introduction of Ecloge into the Golden
House, as paramount favourite, and with the jealousy thus
aroused in the breast of Acte, Nero's freedwoman and whilom
mistress. History says but little of this woman ; and the
author, therefore, has free scope for his imagination in depict-
ing her. Cossa represents Acte's influence over Nero as being
based partly on old habit, partly on his superstitious terrors,
and partly on her native force of character. She is the only
human being who really loves the tyrant. She remembers the
promise of his early youth, and endeavours to incite him to
great deeds Avoi-thy of Ctesar and of Rome. The objection to
these attempts is their obvious hopelessness. Such appeals,
we are sure, must be made in vain to such a being, and
Acte's long, reproachful speeches have not merely the result
of boring Nero, but, which is far more important, they occa-
sionally bore the reader. Yet her passionate jealousy of the
dancing girl, and her fidelity and devotion to Nero in his deepest
adversity, arc naturally and powerfully draw^n. The character
of Ecloge is well contrasted with that of Acte. A fine point
is made in the scene Avhere Acte endeavours to persuade her
1882. Cossa and Car due ci. 35
rival to fly from Nero's blood-stained house before his fickle
fancy change. She cannot terrify Ecloge. The two women,
so dissimilar in all else, have one ti-ait in common : neither
fears the much-feared tyrant. Acte braves him by her strength,
Ecloge by her weakness. She is but a brilliant, thoughtless
insect, but for that reason as impervious to apprehension as
Acte herself. You may crush her in a moment ; but while
she lives, she will flutter and enjoy the sunshine. Acte at
length, in a paroxysm of jealous fury, rushes on her rival with
a dagger ; but the dancing girl is saved by the unexpected
entrance of the Emperor, and Acte mthdraws muttering
threateningly ' Sempre salvar non la potrai.' The brief
remainder of the act is worth giving, as a specimen of Cossa's
power of concentration, and the unfaltering strength with
which he can add line to line, and touch to touch, each pro-
ducing precisely the effect aimed at, without penury or redun-
dance.
^ Nerone {solo). Fatal possanza
Ha quell' Atte su me ; sovente ardisce
Gelosa opporsi alle mie voglie, ed io
Che potrei con un cenno 1' eloquente
Gola troncar di tutti i Senator!, v*
Mi trove inerme in faccia a questa sola -^ \^*^
Femmina ! non e caso naturale. 5^ P**''
Costei per certo ottenne un incantato 4q;( \\M^i
Filtro da qualche maga di Tessaglia a '
E a me lo porse. Ma 1' incanto infame (mMIW
Eompero. . . . L' improwiso impeto d' ira
Ecco toglie la dolce limpidezza
Alia mia voce, — e in tal momento ! Vieni
Menecrate. Qua! nxiove ?
Menecrate. Immensa folia
Si mostra per le vie ; corre a bearsi
Iseir artista divino.
Ne. Oggi son rauco :
E i pretoriani ?
Me. Armati hanno accerchiato
Tutto il teatro. Avrai sonanti applausi
E spontanei.
Ne. Mi siegui.
Me. Un' altra nuova :
Cassio Longino e morto.
Ne. Cosi presto !
Me. Appena udi 1' accusa del Senato,
Sorse dal desco, saluto gli amici,
E stoicamente si taglio le vene.
Ne. {sorridendo) . I Komani lian coraggio.
Me. E il morto avea
Quattro ville . . . tel dissi.
36 Modern Italicin Foots : Jan.
Ne. Ebbene ?
Me. Ebbene !
lo non ho villc.
Ne. Intcndo ; ne avrai una.
Ora al teatro !
]\Ic. I hmri al gran cantore ! '
The second act passes at night in a tavern of the Suburra.
On its threshold the liost stands gazing at the portentous
comet * blazing with sinister presage in the sky, and laments
the famine which threatens the city. ' Brutto mestiere c quelle
' del tavcrniere quando manca il pane ! ' He is presently joined
by a veteran gladiator, a slave merchant, and a player [jinnto-
mimo), Avho discuss the miserable condition of the people.
Njevius, the player, has studied the ancient chronicles of
Roman liberty, and utters a good deal of treason against the
Emperor; whereupon the slave-dealer bids him hold his peace,
for his rash talk 'smells of the executioner a mile oflP.' To this
group there enters a woman breathlessly crying for help. She
is pursued by two drunken slaves who have chased her through
the streets, and, seeing the door of the tavern open, she runs
in for shelter. The drunken slaves prove to be Nero and
jNIenecrates disguised, who have been rushing wildly through
Rome, terrifying and assaulting all Avho came in their Avay, and
who follow the fugitive into the tavern. Here, however, Nero
meets with unexpected resistance. The old gladiator, little
guessing who is his antagonist, Avrestles with and overthrows
him. At this moment the Captain of the Prajtorian Guard
enters, accompanied by an escort of soldiers and guided by
Acte, Avho has traced Nero in his mad career, and provided for
his safety. The discovery of the Emperor causes general con-
sternation. The gladiator, the tavern-keeper, and the slave
merchant prostrate themselves. Only Najvius the player,
roused to Irrepressible indignation, dares to brave Caesar's anger,
and to repi'oach him with his tyranny and the infamies daily
committed in his name. Nero, at first struck dumb by the
man's audacity, listens with gradually increasing attention and
interest, and at the conclusion of Nasvius's violent philippic,
turns complacently to Menecrates, exclaiming * E un' artista
costui ! Declama bene e ha bella voce,' and invites the player
to his house ' as a brother artist.' Then being, as he phrases
it, ' Assalito nel cor da furiosi impeti di clemenza,' he pardons
the gladiator ; and to the fugitive woman, who proves to be
* During Nero's reign two comets appeared: one about a.d. G1,
and the other four years later.
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 37
the crphan daughter of Cassius Longmus, he promises the
restoration of her father's confiscated property. But his bene-
volent mood does not extend to Acte, to whom he owes his
safety. Whilst she endeavours to awaken him to a sense of the
dangers that threaten the Empire, he calls for wine, derisively
bids her not lecture him as Seneca did, and irritates her
jealousy by maudlin ])raises of Ecloge's beauty. The act
terminates by his reeling from the tavern to his litter, sup-
ported by the arm of Menecrates, who turns to Acte as they
depart, with a sneer at his Imperial master.
The third act is the weakest, the dramatic action making
no progress until its conclusion. The scene is in a chamber
of the palace used by Nero as a sculptor's studio. He has
been carving a marble statue of Ecloge, which he resolves
on forcing some rich senator to buy at an enormous price ;
the imperial exchequer still suffering from that chronic malady
which he lamented in the beginning of the play. Cluvius
Rufus is the luckless purchaser selected, and arrives oppor-
tunely just as Vinicius {Prafectus Praitorio) announces that
the troops are clamouring for arrears of pay, and threaten
to mutiny if they be not satisfied. Nero assures the Prefect
of the Guard that Rufus will furnish him with the necessary
sums ; and, enchanted with this stroke, he refuses to attend to
letters from Gaul and Spain which Rufus submits to him.
Acte takes the despatches and reads them whilst Nero is
idly toying with Ecloge. The first letter announces the death
of Vindex: the second, that the army of Spain has hailed
Galba Emperor. Startled for an instant by these tidings,
Nero almost immediately throws off the painful impression,
and, embracing the Greek girl, cries recklessly, ^Amiamoci,
* mia bella ! . . . Galba e ancor lontano ! '
The fourth act contains some of the finest writing in the
play, and is full of tragic interest. It opens with a banquet
in the Golden House, at which are assembled, besides other
guests, Rufus, Vinicius, Menecrates, and Acte. Ecloge, as
queen of the feast, is placed beside the Emperor. During the
orgy Nero improvises an Epicurean hymn to Venus, which is,
perhaps, the author's best bit of lyric poetry. The conclusion
has an unexpected turn given to it by a thoroughly Neronian
trait of sceptical irony. Apostrophising the fair-haired god-
dess, he terminates thus : —
' Sorridi, o biouda Iddia ; di noi piu degno
B il tuo femineo regno.
Tu sei nostra speranza, —
Giove e omai troppo vecchio, e muti stanza ! '
38 Modern Italian Poets : Jan.
The piece is, of course, received with enthusiasm by the adu-
lators of the Divo Ncronc, especially by Menecrates, who
* gives his vote for the exile of Jupiter.' Acte alone remains
gloomy and silent. Reproached by Nero, she seizes a wine-
cup and drinks to the youth and beauty of her rival, challenging
Ecloge to respond. There is no answer ; the dancing girl
droops her head on the Emperor's breast; she is dying — by
poison ! The feast is broken up amidst dismay and horror.
Acte has disappeared, and Nero, in a frenzy of grief and rage,
commands that she be sought for and dragged before him.
The most refined tortures shall punish the murderess of
Ecloge. But suddenly a new terror invades the palace.
Galba has been proclaimed in Rome ; rebellion riots through
the streets ; and the populace is rising against Nero. Rufus
is despatched to make a desperate appeal to the Senate ;
Vinicius to assemble his cohorts. The rest fly from the
presence of the doomed Emperor, who is left alone with the
overturned wine-cups, the trampled garlands, and the dead
body of Ecloge. The situation is powerfully dramatic, and
Nero's soliloquy, when he finds himself thus abandoned, is
extremely fine. The Greek girl lies in a dreamless sleep —
' sonno fatal che non aspetta 1' alba.' The Prrotorian Guard
have deserted the palace, and left it exposed to the incursion
of the angry mob. Without, the streets in the neighbourhood
of the palace are deserted and silent save for the rain and
thunder of a gathering storm. Agitated by abject terrors,
alternately despondent and furious, Nero rapidly reviews what
possibilities of safety may yet remain to him. At one moment
he nurses the hope that Vinicius may have succeeded in
quelling the insurrection, and ' chasing back the populace to
* their lairs ; ' at another, he thinks of throwing himself at the
feet of his enemies and imploring mercy : —
* Mi lascin la vita,
La prefettura d' Egitto, o d' altra
Provincia, ed io saluto il fortunate
Mio successore Galba . . , Galba ! E ad esso
Vilmente cedero ? Non mi rimane
Salvezza alcana ? — Se con un mio cenno
Io potessi di furto per le vie
Sparger tutte le feroci belve
Che Stan cliiiise nei circhi . . . qual paura
Nella cittii ! '
The effect on the audience of this hideous suggestion, lurid
with maniacal ferocity, is indescribably terrible. And, indeed,
the whole scene is a masterpiece of stage effect. The act
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 39
iermmates witli Nero's flight from Rome, accompanied bj
Phaon and Epaphroditus. two freedmen who have remained
fiiithful to him, and by Acte, who returns in the hour of peril
to exhort him to die as becomes a Roman. But he has not
yet abandoned all hope, and he chooses flight. As he is about
to quit the banquet hall, urged by his attendants to hasten, he
exclaims, ^ E che mi resta piu ? ' but his eye lighting on the
lute which had fallen from his hand after Ecloge's death, he
adds, ' Che resta ? . . . Faonte, la mia cetra ! ' and signs to
the freedman to carry it with him.
The last act, in Phaon's farmhouse outside Rome, is almost
wholly occupied with the single figure of Nero. Weary,
terrified, and parched with thirst, he enters this last refuge
with a word of profound egotism and ingratitude : —
' Ed e questa il ricovero che m' offri ?
Faonte, la tua casa suburbana
E molto brutta ! '
They bring him water, which he refuses to drink, despite his
thirst : — ' Quest' acqua e fango, io non la bevo.' He then asks
if his attendants are armed, and Phaon and Epaphroditus, the
two faithful freedmen, hand him their daggers. Nero tries
them by lightly touching his throat ; but almost instantly
desisting, cries out that they are sharper than is needful.
Phaon is sent back to Rome to gather news of the insurrec-
tion, and Epaphroditus is bidden to keep watch at the door of
the cottage, and give warning if he hear any sound of horses
on the road. Then Nero, overcome by fatigue and excitement,
throws himself to rest on a miserable pallet, over which Acte
has previously spread the mantle from her own shoulders.
Before lying down he places the two daggers beneath his head ;
and as he stretches himself to rest, he begins to declaim frag-
ments of Horace's Ode, ' Justum et tenacem propositi virum.'
Then with a bitter smile : —
' Un gran bufFone c quel poeta Orazio !
Vorrei vederlo qui, lui che a Filippi
Per fuggir ineglio butto via lo scudo !
E poi quel versi son proprio noiosi ...
E la noia ... da sonno . . .'
[Falls asleejy.
From a feverish slumber, disturbed by frightful dreams,* he
* All the historians agree that Nero was tormented by frightful
visions, among which the image of his mother frequently pursued him.
The resemblance between the dreams conjured up by Nero's guilty
conscience and those which Shakespeare attributes to Kichard III. will
strike the English reader.
40 Modern Italiun Puets : Jan.
wakes delirious, crying, ' Galba c qui ! ' Then lie fancies him-
self In the theatre, and calls for his cithern: ' lo vo cantare,
. . . io poeta maggior di quanti illustrl ehbe 11 mondo Latino I '
The next moment he orders the llctors to make way for hira
through a crowd of phantoms that press around him : —
' E vano ; i morti
Uccider non si ponno un' altni volta . . .
Sei til mia viadre / . . . E tu, Cassio Longina,
Ua me che chiedi ? E come puoi guardaruii ?
Nella villi erl cicco ! '
This last touch is magnificent. Gradually he recovers his
senses, but falls into a new paroxysm of rage and terror at the
tidings brought back by Phaon from the city. Rome has con-
firmed the election of Galba, and the deposed Emperor, de-
clared an enemy to the State, is condemned to be scourged to
death Avith rods. Urged by Acte to die as becomes a Roman,
x^ero passionately exclaims with the colossal egotism of
cowardice : —
'Maori ! Ecco un consiglio
Che si d;i facilmente, ma 1' esempio
Avrebbe pin efficacia ! E alcun di voi,
O vigliacclii, per darmi un po' di core
Non sa f erire il suo ? '
On this Acte seizes a dagger and stabs herself, murmuring as
she dies (in a phrase borrowed, of course, from the story of
Arria, wdfe of Ctecina Pretus), ' Posso dirti per prova, o mio
' Ncrone, che non duole.' Nero is bending anxiously over her
corpse, actuated neither by pity nor regret, but solely by his
desire to verify her assurance that dying is not painful, wdien
the gallop of horses is heard without. He tries to plunge the
dagger into his throat, but his coward hand fails, and he cries
to Phaon to aid him. Tlie soldiers are rapidly approaching ;
in a moment he avIU be in the hands of his enemies ; Phaon
clutches the dagger which Nero still holds, and presses it into
his throat. As he falls the Emperor exclaims, ' Che grande
' artefice perisce I . . . Ahi I ' At this moment a centurion
rushes in, and, seeing Nero^ wounded, tries to staunch the
blood. Rut Nero, endeavourino; to raise himself and glarinrr
1*11 • . oo
Jiorribly upon the centurion, stammers, ' Tardi, soldato I . . .
E questa la tua fede ? ' and falls dead.
One weak point of the play is its lack of female interest.
Ecloge is delicately drawn, but she fails to enlist our sym-
l)athies ; and Acte, as has been said, is occasionally a bore.
Another defect Avith which it has been charged — and Avhich
has been more or less charged on all Cossa's plays — is the
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 41
want of dramatic construction ; and in truth ' Nero ' is the
development of a character, not of a plot. But the most
effective answer to this objection is that in performance the
play captivates the attention of the spectators, and excites
them to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. Even when repre-
sented by mediocre performers, it is always a theatrical success.
And, indeed, if Ave will consider it, our chief pleasure in the
great dramatic masterpieces is not derived from the gratifica-
tion of childish curiosity as to how it will all end, and what
is to happen next, but from the play of human character
in certain given situations, of which the issue may be already
well known to us. Now, Cossa is a great master of situation.
The crowd of imitators whom his example induced to flood
the Italian theatre with ' historical dramas ' which, for the
most part, died in the first glare of the footlights, must have
convinced themselves by this time that to write a classical
play Avhich shall please in the closet, and triumph on the stage,
is not quite ' as easy as lying ; ' and that some stock-in-trade
beyond a translation of Plutarch's ' Lives ' and a copy of the
' Biographic Universelle ' is necessary for the achievement.
The next, in order of their production, of the plays on
classical subjects, is the ' Plautus ; ' Cossa himself considered
this play his most perfect work of art. Viewed as a recon-
struction of ancient manners, customs, and tones of thought, it
is undoubtedly a marvel of accuracy and completeness, and is
at the same time written with great ease and vivacity. But it
has never produced the same degree of enthusiasm in the
theatre as ' Nero,' ' Messalina,' or ' Cleopatra : ' nor was it
possible that it should do so. The great tragic passions deal
with the perennial springs of human nature, and appeal to all
mankind. Transform Cossa's ' Nero ' into a mediasval tyrant,
or his ' Messalina ' into the heroine of a modern cause celebre,
and they would still be personages of intense dramatic interest.
But in witnessing ' Plauto e il suo secolo,' one main source of
enjoyment is cut off from those spectators who have no tincture
of classical culture. Here there is scarcely one figure which
could be removed from its social surroundings and atmosphere,
without growing comparatively dull and dry. Like seaweed,
they lose colour when seen through any other than their
natural medium. Among the dramatis persuncB are many of
the familiar types of ancient comedy : we have Ballio, an
avaricious usurer; Grumio, a braggart Campanian soldier;
Davus, a roguish slave ; a group of Greek courtesans, slaves of
Ballio ; &c. There are also Lucilla, a wealthy matron who
tyrannises over her husband Cajcilius — ' dotata regit viruni
42 Modern Italian Poets : Jan.
' conjux,' as Horace has it — and the husband hhnself", a spend-
thrift dissipated knight. The historical personages are Plautus,
Cato the Elder, Sempronius Gracchus and Petilius, Tribunes
of the People, and Scipio Africanus with his Avife and daughter.
Of all these Cato the Censor is on the Avhole the most lifelike
creation, and the most thoroughly imbued with the genuine
spirit of comedy. Cato's iraperviousness to ridicule, his rough,
narrow-minded energy, the slight strain of puritanical self-
delusion which persuades him that his personal hostility to
Scipio is pure, unmingled patriotism, and the solemn per-
sistency Avith which he bores all and sundry, in season and out
of season, with the proverbial ' Delenda est Carthago,' are
inimitably depicted. It need scarcely be said that Plutarch has
been largely put under contribution for this delineation of
Cato: but a distinguishing mark of a great artist is the use
he makes of his materials. The main outline of the plot may
be given in a few words : Plautus, who is introduced as a poor
player, manager, and author, just arrived from Umbria with
a strolling company to seek his fortune in Rome, rapidly
acquires the favour of the Quirites, gains money, and gives
banquets, which are frequented by such fine gentlemen as the
knight Caicilius. But falling violently in love with Imnidis,
a Greek slave belonging to Ballio the usurer, in order to obtain
the sum necessary to buy the girl from her avaricious master
Plautus entei's into trade speculations with Ballio, Avhereby he
is utterly ruined. Cossa adopts the somcAvhat apocryphal
legend of Plautus being sold to a miller by his creditors. And
the play ends Avith Cato's coming to the mill to announce to
the slave Plautus that the -^diles have need of him. They Avill
obtain his liberty on condition that he Avrite some comedies to
combat the immoral influence of the ' Atellana3 Fabulaj,' Avhich,
says Cato, have resumed their ancient empire on the Roman
scene, * Scandalo dei buoni, e insegnamento ai tristi.' There is
an underplot concerning the banishment of Scipio Africanus ;
and a comic imbroglio arising from a pearl necklace Avhich
Cascilius has, in plain Avords, stolen from his rich Avife to give to
Imnidis, Avhoin he is assiduously courting. The play is very
long. It consists of five acts, and an introduction as long as
any of them. But thanks to the variety of the characters, the
curious traits of manners, and the general excellence of the
writing, it is amusing throughout. Grumio, the braggart
soldier, with his monstrous boasts, his cowardice, and his
gluttony, never fails to excite the mirth of the ' groundlings.'
And in fact he is entertaining enough. But if Ave except —
truly a considerable exception, however — the minute know-
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 43
ledo-e of ancient Roman manners evidenced by tins Cam-
panian's utterances and allusions, there is nothing in Grumio
Avhich a score of contemporary Italian playwrights might not
have written. We cannot name one who could have given us
Cato the Elder. Scipio's description of the rigid censor is
admirable ; though we doubt if it be not an anachronism to attri-
bute to him so much of the tolerant fairness of a gentleman : —
' In lui rispetto
11 cittadino sobrio, severo :
La sua virtu mi piace, ma ...
Gracco. Comprendo.
Invido e troppo.
Scipione. No ; e troppo antico.
Ei tiene del macigno della rocca
Gapitolina ; e immoto, guarda indietro
Senza curar 1' eta che si rinnova
E va inanzi. Eomano intiero, ed uomo
A meta ! . . .'
In the best spirit of comedy is the declaration of the hen-
pecked, dissolute knight Cascilius, that, although he detests
Cato's old-fashioned rigour in general, he is yet bound in can-
dour to praise the Censor's just strictures ' on the idleness and
* luxury of our matrons.' So also is Ballio's advice to Plautus
as to the subjects of his plays : let Plautus choose his argu-
ments from among the j)l^bs, who ' will forgive being lashed, if
* you can make them laugh,' but avoid touching the patricians,
who, according to the laws of the TavcIvc Tables, have, and
can have, no vices. So are innumerable other passages. It
is, indeed, difficult to resist the temptation of quoting some of
them. But the exigencies of our space compel us to be spar-
ing of extracts.
' Julian the Apostate,' the next in order, is the work wliich
more than any other of Cossa's has been appealed to by Chris-
tians and anti- Christians to prove that the author held this or
that vicAV. In our opinion it is impossible to read the play in
a fair spirit without perceiving that Julian is a favourite with
the author. And assuredly that does not indicate any ardour
of Christian belief. But what Cossa combats in ' Julian the
' Apostate ' is the Papacy in Rome. Rome to him is something
more and greater than any dogma. A striking passage, put
into the mouth of Julian, powerfully expresses this feehng.
Bishop Eusebius is represented as a model of Christian virtue,
yet it is to him that the following reproaches are addressed : —
* Eh via ! la vostra umile faccia
E maschera a superbi intendimenti.
44 Modern Italian Poets : Jan.
Voi detestate i Cesari, ma in core
Anelate a coprirvi della loi'o
Porpora. Avete in odio Koma, e il suono
Delia sua gloria ; e la cattedra vostra
Alzate all' ombra dei colli immorbili.
E vi guido sottile astuzia : il mondo
Udito 71011 y' avrehhe se jjai'lato
Nan aveste da Roma .' '
Here it is clearly a political and not a spiritual system that is
attacked. The scene of the play during the first four acts is
in Antioch, just previous to the exj)edition to Persia in which
Julian lost his life. The Emperor's rectitude, intelligence,
and moderation shine conspicuously amongst the motley crew
of corrupt Orientals by whom he is surrounded. AVhen a
fanatical partisan of Arius boldly attacks him in argument^
and speaks of Truth, Julian ironically demands what truth ?
The Christians are divided into a hundred discordant sects.
The Arians sacked Alexandria, destroyed her monuments, and
slaughtered her citizens, ' enemies equally to Jove and Christ.''
' E adulterando la dolce parola
Del Galileo, cite rinnegate sempre,
Di micidiali dispute maestri
Nel foro, e delle inutili nel tempio,
Accendeste la fiaccola di guerre
Religiose, ignote ai nostri antichi ! '
But he is not more tender to the priest of Apollo, whose glut-
tony and selfishness disgust him. And to the terrible High
Priest of Mithra, who urges him to appease the angry gods by a
human sacrifice, he nobly answers that the priest must moderate
his cruel zeal, nor think with the fool that ideas can be drowned
in blood. And again to the same ferocious fanatic he declares
that the best sacrifice is the incense of good deeds, offered up
to Him who is the centre of the harmonious universe : —
' Sia Giove, Jeova, o IMitra, importa poco ;
Inanzi alV Injinito il nome e nulla.''
The singular verbal resemblance between these lines and the
opening of ' Pope's Universal Prayer ' will not have escaped
the reader ; but we believe it to be purely fortuitous. In his
next speech, however, Julian descends from this lofty strain,
to declare that notwithstanding all this he shall not rest happy
until he has restored the ancient worship, ' in which is com-
' prised all the greatness of Kome, and of the Empire ; ' and
announces that he shall shortly with his own hands immolate
a victim to Apollo. In Julian and Eusebius are incarnated
two mighty forces. The one defends decaying Rome; the
1882. Cossa and Carilucci. 45
other pleads for advancing Christianity. Some of Cossa's most
powerful writing is contained in tliis play, which, however, is
deficient in interest. The theme is too vast a one to be treated
in five acts, and renders a complete drama impossible. The
play ends with the death of Julian in Persia, and the conse-
quent suicide of a Jewish girl whom he has benevolently
protected, and who adores him as the future rebuilder of the
Temple and the restorer of her nation.
Next to 'Nero,' * Messalina ' has hitherto been the most
completely and universally successful on the stage of Cossa's
dramas. It may be considered a literaiy tour cle force to
present Claudius's wicked wife upon the scene at all without
violating public decency. Certainly there are passages in the
' Messalina ' which would not be tolerated on our stage. But
there is no indication throughout the work that the author
takes a morbid pleasure in depicting vice. Nor is there the
least tendency to make what is morally loathsome appear
sensuously alluring. Messalina is not of the type to be found
between the yellow covers of a Parisian novel. She is terribly
in earnest, and, Avh ether clawing or caressing, has no more
afiectation or self-consciousness than a tigress. It is very
interesting to observe the national differences which distinguish
Cossa's presentment of Messalina from those which might be
expected from writers of other countries. A Frenchman
would perhaps be led away by one aspect of the subject into
extravagances of vicious detail ; an Englishman, moved by the
predominance of another set of ideas, might be apt to insist on
the moral turpitude of a state of society in which a Messalina
was possible ; Cossa cares neither to be seductive nor didactic.
With artistic singleness of purpose, he simply carves out of the
material before him his concrete figure — which, in our judg-
ment, comes nearer to being an image of the true Messalina
than anything which contemporary literature has yet to show.
The play consists of five acts and a prologue. The latter
deals mainly Avith the assassination of Caligula and the pro-
clamation of Claudius. The first act displays the dissensions
between Julia Agrippina and Messalina, the intrigues of the
freedmen within the palace, and the easy indifference of
Claudius, absorbed in writing a history of his own times, and
ignoring the materials for that chronicle furnished by his august
consort. Caius Silius is also introduced, the object of Messa-
lina's last and most violent passion. The second act, like the
second act of ' Nero,' passes in the Suburra, whither Messalina
secretly follows Silius, surprises him in an orgy, and is herself
recognised by a gladiator, one of her former lovers. In the
40 Modern Italian Poets : Jan.
third act, by a conspiracy of Narcissus and some other freed-
raen, a number of slave girls from the Suburra are brought
before Caesar to bear testimony to the presence in their liouse,
on the preceding night, of the Empress. This stroke is intended
to bring about Messalina's ruin. But she, boldly advancing
into the midst of her enemies, commands them all to withdraw,
and, being left alone with her husband, so makes out her own
case, and so terrifies him by hints of rebellion and treason, that
she persuades him to condemn Valerius Asiaticus, whom she
hates ; and remains triumphant mistress of the situation. The
fourth act is occupied with the insane marriage ceremony be-
tween Messalina and Silius in the magnificent gardens (formerly
of Lucullus) which had belonged to Valerius Asiaticus ; and
it terminates with the unexpected return of Claudius from
Ostia, and the dastard flight of Silius, who leaves Messalina
to confront her angry husband alone. In the fifth act, she once
more tries her power over Claudius. Despite the opposition
of Narcissus, she gains admission to Cassar's presence, confesses
her crime, and implores pardon. She was mad, delirious,
guilty, but she repents. For their son's sake, for Britanuicus,
Claudius must forgive her. She weeps, she caresses, she per-
suades, she triumphs. Claudius leaves her with a promise of
reconciliation, and she exultingly exclaims that iier enemies
are vanquished. But in the next moment she is stabbed by a
centurion, whom Narcissus empowers to do the deed by show-
ing a signet ring of the Emperor. Her assassination does not
take place in sight of the audience, but she staggers on the
stage to fall dead. The freedmen are only just in time to
cover her body with a cloak before Claudius passes on his way
to the triclinium. He asks for Messalina, but is easily diverted
from his enquiries by the sight of Agrippina ' fair, smiling, and
' perfumed.' And so they go in to supper, and the curtain falls.
One gleam of womanhood flashes out in the last words
uttered by Messalina as she dies : ' lo muoio . . . Claudio !
' . . . Mueri niieiJigU! ' There is a whole chapter of guilty
fears, and vain regrets, and fierce maternal fondness in those
last despairing words. Another wonderful touch of psycho-
logical intuition is when, after listening to the pathetic appeal
of Valerius Asiaticus (by her accused and destroyed) for leave
to die, not by the hand of the f xccutioner, but in his own home
amidst the memories of his mother, Messalina suddenly bursts
into tears, and intercedes with Claudius — to let Valerius die
after his own fashion. ' Ch' ei mora a suo talento . . . purche
' mora ! ' This mingling of tearful emotion with pitiless fero-
city is worthy of a Megrera of the French Revolution.
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 47
The character of Claudius is as admirable a study in its way
as that of Messalina. From his first appearance on the stage,
dragged out from his hiding-place by the Praetorian Guard
after the assassination of Caligula, to the conclusion of the
drama, where he coolly goes in to supper without troubling
himself about Messalina's fate — in each and every situation,
Claudius is a living creation. A grotesque mixture of imbe-
cility, learning, phlegmatic indolence, and cowardice, he becomes
terrible by the imperial power which he wields. And here
we have the explanation of some of Cossa's finest effects, and
the justification of his realistic method. Traits which would
be merely comic or contemptible in private men, assume a
dread significance in mighty Cresar, dispenser of fortune, dis-
grace, or death to his subjects. There is no more tremendous
tragedy than this irony of Fate flinging millions of human
beings into the power of a Nero or a Claudius. And in
perceiving and boldly representing this truth, instead of fabri-
cating artificial figures to suit the * dignity of history,' Cossa
has given evidence of original power.
' Cleopatra ' is the last of the series of Cossa's classical dramas
given to the world. The author was engaged just before his
death on a play, entitled ' Silla,' which remains unfinished.
' Cleopatra ' has a richness of life and colour which captivates
the imagination. A glow of Eastern sunshine seems to have
penetrated some of its pages. But to an English reader it
suggests a fatal comparison with one of the most subtle and
splendid of the creations of Shakespeare. The author entitles
it ' a dramatic poem,' and, although it has been entirely suc-
cessful on the Italian stage, it is, in our judgment, more calcu-
lated to delight the reader than to enthral the spectator. It con-
sists of six acts, and follows pretty closely the historical order
of events, beginning in Alexandria, where Antony proclaims
Cleopatra Queen of Cyprus and Libya, and publicly repudiates
Octavia. Then follows the battle of Actium; the attack of
Octavius against Alexandria ; Cleopatra's treason to Antony,
and the death of the latter. Cossa leaves Cleopatra still living
at the end of the play, but in possession of the asp that is to
save her from the ignominy of being led captive in a Roman
triumph. A crowd of varied figures passes over the stage.
Egyptians and Romans, the serpent-charmer, the embalmer of
mummies, the flower-seller, slaves, mountebanks, priests, war-
riors, kings, throng the streets of Alexandria and the sumptu-
ous halls of Cleopatra's palace. These figures are woven, as
it were, into a background rich as a piece of Oriental tapestry,
on which the principal personages of the drama stand out in
48 JModcrn ItitUan Poets: Jan.
strong relief. In liis ilellneatlon of Antony's character, Cossa,
like Shakespeare, has closely followed Plutarch. It is interest-
ing to compare Antony's death in Cossa's play -with the parallel
passages in the great I'^nglish tragedy. But the third act of the
' Cleopatra,' which takes place on board the qneen's galley,
during the battle of Actimn, is, in our opinion, Cossa's greatest
poetical effort ; and here the author is not weighted in the
reader's mind by any overwhelming comparisons. The con-
ception and conduct of the scene are all his OAvn ; and would,
even had he written nothing else, entitle him to an honourable
place in the Pantheon of poets. It has not the vivid dramatic
contrasts of some parts of the ' Nero ' and ' Messalina,' bnt the
reader is carried away by the beauty and vigour of the descrip-
tions, and the really magnificent working up of the final
catastrophe. From the first subdued note of the opening — in
the clear serenity of a sunrise at sea — through the crescendo
of the battle to the passionate pathos of Antony's despair, this
act is a masterpiece of sustained imagination. In the remainder
of the play there are many fine passages, and the versification
is throughout maintained at a high level of excellence. But it ,
cannot be denied that the last three acts show a falling off in
dramatic interest. The real climax is at Actium. After
Antony's death, Cleopatra is led off by the envoys of Octavius,
promising herself either to subdue Ctesar or to perish. But
this is a tame and flat disappearance from the scene for such a
figure as Cleopatra.
Of the earlier published plays of Cossa, ' Sordello,' ' Monal-
* deschi,' ' Pouschkin,' ' Beethoven,' and ' Mario e i Cimbri,'
it is not necessary to say much. The first three are immature
efforts of a genius which has not yet recognised its true voca-
tion. ' Beethoven ' and * Mario ' are not Avithout merit. The
former is, so far as we know, Cossa's only prose composition.
It was successful on its first production, but does not keep the
stage. ' Cola di Rienzi ' and ' I Borgia,' belong to Cossa's
noonday period ; and ' Cola ' especially is written with great
fire and force. But we omit a more particular examination
of them here, because in these two dramas Cossa has done
better than many what some others have done as Avell : whereas
in the classical plays, although he has had many imitators
among his countrymen, he has as yet found no rival. The
collection of his Lyi-ic Poems comprises twenty-seven pieces
on a great variety of subjects. Some of them contain strong
thoughts, strongly expressed. But Cossa's gift was not lyrical.
Moreover, Avhen these pieces Avere Avritten he had not yet
emancipated himself from the trammels of academic style. The
1882. Cossa and CarduccL 49
use of a language which to him was artificial — not his true
note — had the inevitable result of maiming his ideas. Enouf^-h
has been said to show what are Cossa's claims to be considered
a true and original dramatic poet ; and lovers of Italian
literature will be glad to welcome a modern Roman who not
unworthily sustains some of the glorious — and onerous — tradi-
tions of his illustrious predecessors.
Contemporary Italian literature is comparatively so little
known in England that many readers may possibly see in
these pages the name of Giosue Carducci for the first time.
Yet it can be said without exaggeration that in the general
estimation of his countrymen he holds the first place amono-
living Italian poets. Different from Cossa in many qualities
of mind and temperament, he differs from him also in the pre-
cocious manifestation of his genius. Cossa, as Ave have seen,
was forty years old before he produced his best work ; and
even his earlier poems were not written in boyhood. Car-
ducci, on the contrary, like many another poet, scribbled
verses Avhen a mere child ; and of his published poems several
date from his seventeenth year. He was born in 1836, in an
obscure horghetto, called Val di Castello, in the province of
Pisa, and passed his first years in Tuscany — partly in the
Maremma, partly at Montamiata in the province of Siena, and
partly in Pisa and Florence. It was not an indifferent cir-
cumstance for his future fame that the first accents which his
ear caught and his tongue repeated were from the ' Avell of Tuscan
' undefiled.' Carducci's father was an honourable, industrious^
and unlucky person, who migrated from one poor commune
to another, filling the hard-worked and ill-paid functions of
medico di condotta — as Ave should say, parish doctor. He had
a very fair knowledge of the classics, and his contribution to
young Giosue's education consisted in teaching him Latin.
They translated together Pha^drus, Sallust, Ovid, Virgil, and
Cicero ' De Officiis ; ' but the lesson Avas always Latin, and
nothing but Latin. For his OAvn pleasure the boy devoured
Avhatsoever other books came in his Avay. He read Monti's
version of the ' Iliad,' Tasso's ' Gerusalemme Liberata,' one or
tAvo French histories translated into Italian, a great number
of the ' Novellieri,' something of Macchiavelli, something of
Guicciardini, and the ' Promessi Sposi ' of Manzoni. He him-
self states that his mother (who seems to have been a Avoman
of unusual intelligence and liberality of mind) taught him to
read Alfieri. He had a voracious appetite for books ; and^
Avhich is not ahvays the case, his digestion Avas as good as his
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. E
50 JModcrn Italian Poets : Jan.
appetite. Carclucci's republican tendencies manifested them-
selves very early. There are amusing records of how his
juvenile oratory delighted the inhabitants of a village in the
Tuscan Maremma, and how he expounded to them some of
the satirical poems of Giusti, at that time prohibited in Tus-
cany and circulated surreptitiously. The young democrat, Avho
was about ten years old, made great friends Avith a little lame
village tailor, of the most flaming republican principles. And
in the tailor's shop, the lectures on Giusti, with critical exegesis,
were held amidst universal applause. Dr. Carducci Avas poli-
tically Liberal, but he halted far behind his son. He admired
Manzoni above all writers, inclined to the Koraantic school,
objected to classicism as being * no longer suited to the times,'
and seems to have held by some shreds of Catholic belief. He
felt no sympathy Avith the fiery diatribes of the lame tailor ;
and unceremoniously put an end to Master Giosue's political
propaganda by shutting him up in his room, and giving him
only three books to read : Manzoni's ' Catholic Morality,'
Silvio Pellico's ' Duties of Man,' and the ' Life of San Giuseppe
' Calasanzio,' by a certain Father Tosetti.
Carducci was for some time at the University of Pisa, and
there devoted himself chiefly to classical studies. Afterwards
in Florence he acquired a profound knowledge of the trecentisti
and quattrocentisti, and an enthusiastic admiration for Dante.
He continued to study indefatigably, and from time to time
published various critical essays, besides sundry poems, and an
edition of Politian's works in the vulgar tongue. In Sep-
tember 1860, being then a month or two past twenty-four years
of age, Carducci was appointed by Terenzio Mamiani, at that
time Minister of Public Instruction, to a professorial chair
at the University of Bologna. The appointment Avas pecu-
liarly honourable to both, for Mamiani Avas an uncompromising
political opponent of the young professor. But he made his
selection purely in the interests of literature, and with a
superiority to party rancour unfortunately too rare among his
countrymen.
No more significant illustration could be found of the statements
made at the beginning of this article respecting the tendency
of literary thought in Italy toAvards classic paganism than the
history of Carducci's mental groAvth and progress. We will
give his own A\^ords on this subject taken from the preface to
the third edition of his poems. After speaking of his studies
in Florence, when, as he says, he ' coasted the Dead Sea of the
' Middle Ages,' he thus proceeds : —
* At the same time I studied the converse of all this — the revolu-
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 51
•tionary movement in history and literature. Gradually there maui-
-fested itself in my mind, not an innovation, but an explanation, Avhich
surprised and comforted me. How content was I with myself (forgive
the word !) when I perceived that my obstinate classicism had been a
just aversion to the literary and philosophic reaction of 1815 ; when I
was able to justify it by the doctrines and the example of so many
illustrious artists and thinkers ; when I found that my sins of paganism
had been already committed — but in how far more splendid a guise !
— by many of the noblest minds and souls in Europe; and that this
paganism, this worship of form, was in fact nothing else than the love
of glorious nature, from which the solitary Semitic abstraction had so
3ong and so ferociously divorced the spirit of man ! '
These Avords give the key to much of that active hostility
towards Christianity which marks modern Italian thought.
The elevation of asceticism into a virtue, and the segregation
of the religious world from the joys, toils, and sorrows of their
fellow-men, are peculiarly repugnant to the gregarious and
practical Italian temperament. And when, moreover, we
consider that certain theories which with us remain in the
region of theological or philosoj)hical speculation are in Italy
■recognised as the watchwords of a political party, the hatred
aroused by them becomes more comprehensible.
Carducci's genius is as distinctively lyric as Cossa's is
•dramatic. He asserts his own personality, and his mind is
naturally protestant, and intolerant of traditional authority.
Republican and democratic in politics, as an artist he has the
most sovereign disdain for the opinion of the majorit}'. And
lie vehemently stigmatises that tone of mind which leads a
writer to follow the caprices of fashion, or the vagaries of
public opinion, in his search after popularity. ' Let the poet,'
lie writes, ' express himself, and his own moral and artistic
' convictions, as clearly, sincerely and resolutely as he can.
' The rest does not concern him.' He is here, of course,
alluding to lyric poetry, Avhich, as being individual, Avill, he
thinks, resist longer than any other form of poetry the
' invasion of historic realism which now pervades all depart-
' ments of human thought.' But it will survive only on con-
dition that it continue to be Art. ' If it be reduced to be a
' mere secretion of the sensibility or sensuality of this person
* or that ; if it give way to all the laxity and license which
* sensibility and sensuality permit themselves — then farewell
* lyric poetry.' And he quotes Theophile Gautier : —
' Point de contraintes fausses !
Mais que pour marcher droit
Tu chausses.
Muse, un cothurne etroit.'
52 Modern Italian Poets: Jan.
It may bo observed in passing that CarduccI writes admirable
prose. He is the author of a variety of critical essays and
studies, which, besides giving evidence of extensive and solid
erudition, have the charm of an elegant, clear, and vigorous
style.
The collection entitled ' Poesie ' is divided into three })ortions,
which the author calls respectively ' Juvenilia,' ' Levia Gravia,^
and * Decennalia.' The first extends from 1850 to 1858;
the second from 1857 to 1870; the third from 1860 to 1870.
It will be seen that the three periods overlaj) each other. But
the author has made the division Avith regard not only to
chronology, but to the growth and development of his artistic
convictions. He says : ' In the " Juvenilia " I am the humble
' shield-bearer of classicism ; in the " Levia Gravia," I keep
' my first vigil of arms ; in the " Decennalia " — after a few
* somewhat uncertain lance-strokes — I enter on the career of
* knight-errant at my own sole risk and peril.' It is interesting
to observe how the future author of the ' Odi Barbare ' is
foreshadowed even in the earliest of the ' Juvenilia.' - One
piece, addressed to the ' Blessed Diana Giuntiui,' venerated in
Santa Maria a Monte,' is absolutely a sapphicode in theHoratian
manner. And in connexion with this poem the following
story is narrated by its author : He Avas passing the year 1857
between Santa Maria a Monte and San Miniato, in Tuscany,
and, being already recognised as a poet, was importuned by
the inhabitants to Avrite something for the festa of the Blessed
Diana, celebrated at Santa Maria a Monte. This Blessed
Diana Giuntini is a holy patroness of her native place — * as
* who should say,' remarks Carducci with his calm paganism,
' a dea indiges'' — was born in 1187, and died in the odour of
sanctity in 1231. The young poet accepted the invitation and
produced the ode, which appears to have delighted all the pious
folks of Santa IMaria a Monte. It also — Avhich is far more
remarkable — imposed on the acuteness of a writer in the ' Unita
* Cattolica,' Avho, years afterwards, republished it to prove how
Carducci had fallen away from his early faith : adding a
characteristic insinuation that the poet was pious when piety
Avas profitable and the Grand Duke reigned over Tuscany,
and became impious only Avhen the Revolution was triumphant.
The fact is that Carducci, Avho Avas at the time deep in the
study of Horace and the trecentisti {Frigida 2Jugnahant
calidis, hnmentia siccis), composed the piece to proA^e that it
Avas possible to Avrite religious poetry in classic forms. But
in truth it is not merely the form Avhich is classical here ; it is
also the thought. As a specimen of versification it strikes us
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 53
as being remarkable for ease and strength. Take the following
strophe, which is imitated from Horace's ' Ludit herboso
* pecus omne campo : ' —
' Disciolto il bove mormora un muggito,
Esulta il gregge nell' erboso piano,
E su r aratro ancor dal solco attrito
Canta il villano.'
Strongly contrasted with this is the ' Ode to Phoebus Apollo,'
also in the ' Juvenilia.' It is a lover's address to the sun to
hasten his declining course, and bring the evening, when he is
to meet his mistress. And so far the matter is trite enough.
But very far from trite is the turn the poem takes towards the
end. After a fervid apostrophe to the god, full of enthusi-
astic Hellenism, a sense of the actual — of that ' historic
' realism ' elsewhere alluded to — of the triumphant advance of
scientific thought — comes over the poet's mood like a chill wind,
and is expressed in these admirable verses : —
' II vevo inesorabile
Di fredda ombra covrio
Te, larva d' altri secoli,
Nume de' Greci, e raio.
Or dove il cocchio, e 1' aurea
Giovanil chioina, e' rai?
Tu^ bruta moU, cfohjori
Di muto faoco, e stai.
Vale, o Titano Apolline,
Ke del volubil anno !
Or solitario avanzami
Amore, ultimo inganno.
* Andiam ; della mia Delia
Negli atti e nel sorriso
Le Grazie a me si mostrino
Quai le miro Cefiso ;
E pera il grave secolo
Che vita mi spegnea
Che agghiaccia il canto ellenico
Nell' anima febea ! '
In the * Levia Gravia ' are comprised several sonnets of
very great beauty and merit. There are three to Homer, of
whicli the last is the best. After saying that the author
returns with the return of each spring to delight in the songs
of the divine old man whose temples are crowned with a
halo of eternal youth, and invoking him to tell once more of
the fair Calypso, of the Daughter of the Sun, of Nausicaa, it
thus concludes : —
54 Modern Italian Poets: Jan.
* Dimmi. . . . Ah non dir ! Di giudici cumei *
Fatta c la terra un tribunale inimondo,
E vili i regi, e brutti son gli dei.
E se til ritornassi al iio.stro mondo,
Novo Glauco per te non troverei :
Niun ti darebbe un soldo, o vagabondo ! '
Very fine are the last lines of the sonnet to Dante :- —
' Son chiesa e impero una ruina mesta
Cui sorvola il tuo canto e a '1 ciel risona :
Muor Giove, e F inno del poeta resta.'
Full of delicate freshness is the sonnet to Petrarch, where the
writer says he Avould fain erect an altar to the sweet singer of
Laura, ' Nella verde caligine de' boschi ; ' but some of the
finest lines of all occur in the sonnet ' To the Sonnet ' (written,
as the writer states, before he had seen Wordsworth's on the
same subject), wherein he enumerates some of the great poets
who have delighted in that form, which he felicitously styles
* Breve ed amplissimo carme.' Aligliieri, Petrarch, CamoenSj,
and * that new ^schylus born on Avon's shore,' loved it : —
' Te pur vestia degli epici splendor!
Prigion Torquato ; e in aspre note e lente
Ti scolpia quella man die s\ potente
Pugno cd' marmi a trarne vita fuori.''
These lines not only marvellously describe Michelangelo's
Bonnets, they epitomise Michelangelo's genius.
But of the Avhole collection of poems, the one which is
there placed in the division entitled ' Decennalia,' and whicli
bears the startling inscription, ' A Satana,' is undoubtedly
that which first filled Italy with its author's name — or rather
with the pseudonym Enotrio Bomano, then assumed by him.
It first saw the light in 1865, and Avas then reviewed at length,
in a number of the ' Ateneo Italiano.' But on December 8,
1869, the day of the opening of the Oecumenical Council, a
Bolognese editor had the courage to reprint it in his news-
paper, the ' Popolo,' and then it raised a storm of contro-
versy and discussion. There is something inexpressibly comic,
from one point of view, in selecting that particular epoch to
* The allusion is to a story told in a Life of Homer attributed to
Herodotus, that the poet offered to the inhabitants of Cumje to cele-
brate their city in his songs, on condition of being maintained at the
expense of the commune ; to whom a grave magistrate gravely
answered that the Senate would have enough to do should it undertake
to feed every blind singer who wandered about the world. Having
landed at Chios, the poet was succoured by Glaucus, a goatherd.
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 55
reproduce an Ode to Satan. And none who are not acquainted
with the Italy of to-day can fully comprehend how such a
flout at religion and decorum was made and accepted as being
a not altogether outrageous and intolerable method of warfare.
Of course the humorous side of the matter was not savoured
by the champions of the Church. Nor, indeed, we incline to
think, was it greatly tasted by their opponents. Both sides
set to Avork with much vehemence to abuse or to eulogise the
poem ; and one natural result of this was, that everybody read
it. For our part we agree, on the whole, with the author, who
himself declares that, despite the benevolent judgments of some
of his critics, it is 'no great thing.' But neither is it a poor
thing. Poverty is not a characteristic of Carducci under any
circumstances. A good deal of ink, and some ingenuity, have
been expended on the well-meant endeavour to explain, and
excuse, this address to Satan. The truth is that the greater
part of the quarrels arising out of it are founded — as how many
other literary quarrels have been ! — on a logomachy. When
Carducci thus apostrophises Satan : —
' A te, dell' essere
Principio immenso,
Materia e spirito,
Eagione e sen so ; '
he is naturally not thinking of Martin Luther's devil with
horns and hoofs, nor even of Goethe's ' Geist der stets
' verneint.' "What he has in his mind is resumed in the con-
cluding stanzas : —
' Salute, o Satana,
O ribellione,
O forza vindice
Delia ragione !
' Sacri a te salgano
Gl' incensi e i voti !
Hal vinto il Geova
De' sacerdoti.'
Here is the word of the enigma, ' II Geova de' Sacerdoti : '
the Jehovah of the priests ! ' And for ' the Jehovah of the
' priests ' as understood by an Italian, neither deism nor Chris-
tianity is responsible. Still it must be distinctly admitted
that Carducci is neither a Christian nor, in the ordinary
acceptation of the word, a deist. His creed is a sort of philo-
sophic pantheism, plus an artistic worship of Hellenism, which,
fortunately for ourselves and our readers, we are not here
called upon to discuss. Of the other poems in the ' Decen-
66 Modern Italian Foets : Jan.
' nalia,' several are on political subjects, such as ' Dopo
' Aspromonte,' ' Per la Rivoluzione di Grecia,' * Sicilia e la
' Rivoluzionc,' ' To Odoardo Corazzini, killed by the French
' in the Campaign of Rome, 1867 ' (in -which occurs the tre-
mendous stanza addressed to the Pope : —
' China sul pio mister che si consuma,
China il tuo viso tristo :
Di sangue, mira, il tuo calice fuma ;
E non c quel di Cristo '),
* Le Nozze del Mare,' ' Allora e Ora,' and others. Three or four
drinking-songs are scattered through the collection, Avhich, in
their form an i spirit, are unique in modern Italian literature.
They have tie spontaneous grace, the naive gaiety, the plastic
perfection of a Greek bas-relief around some altar to Bacchus.
And the piece entitled ' Carnival,' supposed to be uttered by
' A Voice from the Palaces,' ' A Voice from the Hovels,' ' A
' Voice from the Garrets,' and ' A Voice from Underground,'
is a powerful piece of rhetoric on the well-worn theme of the
joys of the rich and the sorrows of the poor. The two last
lines seem to us Avorth quoting, for the sake of the terrible
figure which the poet sketches in with a word, and gives as a
companion to the ' pallida Mors ' of Horace. ' Rejoice,' he
says to the great and wealthy, ' triumph and enjoy, ye powerful,
* ye happy ! '
* E non sognate il di ch' a 1' auree porte
Battel la fame, in compagnia di morte.'
A composition of Carducci's, comparatively little known, is
a poem consisting of thirty stanzas, which was written in 1877
and published separately in 1878, entitled ' 11 Canto dell'
' Amore.' It is, however, no erotic production, but a lyric
manifestation of genial, human kindness and good-will towards
men, which, pace Giosue Carducci, we are accustomed to call
Christian charity. It was suggested by the sight of the space
in Perugia once occupied by the Papal fortress known as
Rocca Paolina, and now planted as a garden for the towns-
people. The citizens of Perugia razed the fortress to the
ground in the September of 1860. There, where the huge
mass darkened the earth with its shadow, ' Or ride amore, ride
' primavera, Ciancian le donne ed i fanciulli al sol ; ' and, look-
ing across the Umbrian plain, girdled with aerial outlines of
lilac mountains, illumined by the warm rays of an Italian sun,
green with a promise of harvest, and dappled with human
habitations, the poet feels his soul expand, his heart melt.
From every village, and spire, and turret : from hamlets nest-
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 57
ling in the dai'k gorges of the Appenine ; from the Tyrrhene
acropolis on its fertile hill ; from city piazzas glorious with
storied art ; from vineyard, and lake, and stream, and wood,
one canticle arises in a tliousand songs, one hymn is sounded
in a thousand prayers. And here we shall venture to depart
from the original text and offer our readers a translation of the
following stanzas : —
' Hail, human creatures, weary and oppressed !
Nothing is lost, nothing can perish wholly.
Too long we've hated. Love alone is blessed.
Love ; for the world is fair, the future holy.
^ Who shines upon the summits with a face
Bright as Aurora's, in the morning ray ?
Once more along these mountains' rosy trace
Do naeek Madonnas' footsteps deign to stray ?
*• Madonnas such as Perugino saw
In the pure sunset of an April sky
Stretch Avide above the Babe, in gentle awe,
Adoring arms, with sweet divinity ?
* No ; 'tis another goddess ! From her brow
Justice and mercy shed effulgent splendour.
Blessings on him who lives to serve her now !
Blessings on him who perished to defend her !
*■ What need I care for priest, or tyrant prince ?
Sure their old gods are not more old than they.
I cursed the Pope, 'tis now some ten years since ; i
I almost would make friends with him to-day.
* Poor aged man, perhaps his heart assailing
A lonely lack of love torments him sore !
Perhaps he dreams, with fondness unavailing.
Of his sea-mirrored city by the shore.
*■ Let me, from out the Vatican's closed portal,
That ancient self-made captive lead ; and cry
" I drink a toast to Liberty immortal,
Fill up a bumper, Citizen Mastai ! " '
There is a certain genial pathos in these last stanzas which
is delightful ; and the whole poem abounds in exquisite de-
scriptive touches, unsurpassed even among Carducci's many,
and singularly vivid, descriptions of nature.
The ' Odi Barbare ' are an attempt to introduce into modern
lyrical poetry several of the ancient metres — ' to adapt to the
* divine foot of the Italian Muse the Alcaic, Sapphic, and Ascle-
58 'Modern Italian Poets: Jan.
* piadean cothurnus,' as the author says, following Theophile
Gautier's metaphor. Carducci calls them ' barbarous,' * because
such they would seem to the ears and the judgment of a
* Greek or a Roman, although comjiosed in the metrical forms
* of their lyric poetry ; and such, alas ! they will sound to
* only too many Italians, although composed with the har-
' monies and accents of their own language.' He justifies his
attempt by an ap])eal to the examples of Catullus and Horace,
who introduced xEolian metres into the Roman literature ;
to Dante, who enriched Tuscan poetry with Proven9al cMve
rime; to Chiabrera and Rinuccini, who contributed to it
several French strophes ; and he begs that that which in those
great poets and those skilled versifiers was warmly praised, to
him may be at least forgiven ; and finally, with a haughty
humility, he asks pardon for not having despaired of the
grand Italian lano-uao-e, and for havino^ believed himself
capable of doing in his mother tongue that which so many
German poets, from Klopstock downwards, have done in
theirs. The Germans, it must be said, have been among the
first and most appreciative critics of the ' Odi Barbare.' Some
of these have had no less distinguished a translator than
Mommsen, who has somewhere pronounced the judgment that
the Italian poet and the Italian language have succeeded in
the arduous eflfort to reproduce the ancient metres attempted,
except in the Sapphic measiire. In this exception, however,
we cannot coincide. Other German critics have written at
length about Giosue Carducci, of whom none have displayed
more sympathetic appreciation, more soundness of culture,
and above all, more intimate knowledge of the spirit of Italian
literature, than Carl Hildebrand. The ' Odi Barbare ' also
have given occasion to more than one important article from,
the pens of Italian critics. One of these, by Giuseppe
Chiarini, entitled * I Critici e la Metrica delle Odi Barbare,'
has been considered one of the most brilliant and erudite
treatises of contemporary literature.
But it is not necessary to possess an intimate knowledge of
that very intricate subject, ancient lyrical metres, in order to
read the ' Odi Barbare,' any more than a profound study of
anatomy is requisite to appreciate a figure by Raphael. Of
the thirteen odes, we prefer those entitled respectively, * Nella
* Piazza di San Petronio in una Sera d'Inverno,' ' Mors,'
* Alia Stazione in una Mattina d'Autunno,' and ' Alle Fonti
' del Clitumno.' Perhaps the poem called ' Alia Stazione '
displays in a more remarkable degree than any of the others
the potency of Carducci's imagination and his absolute
1882. Cossa and Carducci. 59
mastery of his materials. To write a description of a railway-
station in the dim dawn of a wet autumn morning, with all
the incidents belonging to the departure of a train ; to write
it in a classic metre, and Avith classic sobriety of epithet ; and
so to write it as to produce an impression of the most vivid
and uncompromising reality in the mind of the reader, is, it
must be admitted, an achievement of no trifling difficulty ; yet
we believe that few readers will be disposed, after perusing
this poem, to deny that Carducci has done this. The impres-
sion of reality is obtained, not by heaping one upon another a
tedious catalogue of objects or epithets, but by the unerring
instinct (let the Avord pass !) of selection, which belongs to-
great artists — and to great artists only. For example, this
strophe, descriptive of the last moment when the lover, who
has come to bid his mistress farewell, standing on the chill
dreary platform of the station, all unutterably chill and dreary
at that hour and season, hears and sees the final preparation
for the departure of the train, is a marvel of concentrated de-
scriptive poAver :
' E gli sportelli, sbattiiti al chiudere,
Paiono oltraggi : scherno par I'ultimo
Appello die rapido suona ;
Grossa scroscia su' vetri la pioggia.'
And again, what modern poet has surpassed the following
transfiguration of a railway engine ? To parallel it we must
go to Turner's picture of the ' Fighting Temeraire : ' —
' Gia il mostro conscio di sua metallica
Anima, sbuffa, crolla, ansa ; i fiaiDmci
Occhi sbarra ; iminane pel buio
Gitta il fischio clie sfida lo spazio.'
The same marvellous gift of seizins: on what is essential and
distinctive in his picture, and rendering it Avith that force Avhich
gives to words the gloAv of colour and the relief of sculpture,
is displayed in the Ode to the Clitnmnus. Who that has ever
beheld an Umbrian landscape will not have it conjured up
once more in his mind's eye on reading the folloAving verses ?
' Pensoso il padre, di caprine pelli
Ravvolto 1' anche come i fauni antichi,
Eegge il dipinto plaiistro, e la forza
De' bei giovenchi,
* De' bei giovenchi dal quadrate petto,
Erti sul capo le lunate corna,
Dolci ne gli occhi, rftivei, die il mite
Vir";ilio amava.
60 The Life of Mr. Cohden. Jan.
' Oscure intanto fumano le nubi
Su r apennino : grande, austera, verde
Da le montagne digradanti in cerchio
L' Umbria giiarda.'
As if to shoAv how many and how varied chords there are to
his lyre, the author adds to this collection of ' Odi Barbare '
a brief poem of extreme delicacy, which he calls ' Farewell,'
and which he addresses ' To Rhyme ' — Rhyme, ' which glitters,
' and sparkles, and bubbles up from the very heart of the
* people ! ' — Rhyme, which sounds the great name of Roland
at Roncesvalles, which rides Avith the Cid, and soars with
Dante to the stars I
' Cara e onor de' padri miei,
Tu mi sei
Come lor sacra e diletta.
Ave, o rima ! e dammi un fiore
Per 1' amore,
E per V odio una saetta ! '
Hitherto neither the flower nor the dart has been denied to
him.
Art. III. — 1. The Life of Richard Cohden. By JoHN
MoRLEY. In 2 vols. London: 1881.
2. The Life and Speeches of the Right Hon. John Bright, M.P,
By George Barnett Smith. In 2 vols. London: 1881.
3. Free Trade loith France. Letters to the ' Times,' with
an Introduction by Earl Grey, K.G. London: 1881.
XT 1 STORY, as it is related by the best modern historians,
concerns itself with facts rather than with men ; and
busies itself in tracing the causes of events, instead of analysing
the characters of the actors. Yet, in modern as in ancient
history, attention will always be arrested by the simultaneous
appearance of two great men on the political stage, whose lives
are passed in constant rivalry. Such instances are familiar
enough in the history of republics. In the present century,
and in our own country, they have been furnished on three
separate occasions. The rivalry of Fox and Pitt was suc-
ceeded by the rivalry of Canning and Castlercagh ; after a long
interval the rivalry of Canning and Castlercagh was succeeded
by the rivalry of Mr. Gladstone and Lord Beaconsfield.
A lifelong struggle between rival statesmen is thus a com-
mon circumstance. A lifelong friendship among statesmen is
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 61
a much rarer spectacle. With the solitary exception of Lord
Russell, every minister Avho has filled the first place in the
Cabinet for the last forty-seven years, on one occasion or
another, broke from his old friends, and was forced into fresh
alliances. An uninterrupted friendship among statesmen
seems, therefore, almost as rare as an unbroken alliance among
nations ; and the rarest spectacle which parliamentary govern-
ment affords is that of two prominent politicians in constant
harmony.
Such a spectacle was afforded tAventy years ago by the two
men whose biographies are novv before us. Mr. Morley tells
us that, ' as Homer says of Nestor and Ulysses, so of these
* two it may be said that they never spoke diversely either in
* the assembly or in the council, but were always of one mind,
* and together advised the English Avith understanding and
* with counsel how all might be for the best.' He might have
added that the friendship of Mr. Bright and Mr. Cobden was
more enduring than that of the Homei'ic heroes. When Troy
fell, Nestor parted from Ulysses. No such result ensued when
the citadel of Protection was taken. Only on two occasions
of minor importance Avere the leaders of the Anti-Corn LaAv
League found in opposite lobbies ; and, though they occa-
sionally differed on the means by Avhich their political vicAvs
could be best enforced, they continued to live, in ]\Ir. Cobden^s
language, ' in the most transparent intimacy of mind that tAvo
/ human beings ever enjoyed together.'
It may be thought that there is something peculiarly appro-
priate in the simultaneous appearance of the lives of tAVO
men AA'ho enjoyed so close a friendship. But there is a
broad distinction betAveen the circumstances under Avhich the
two books before us haA'e been written. More than sixteen
years have passed since Mr. Cobden died. Mr. Bright, we
may hope, has still years of useful Avork before him. It is
doubtful whether the life of a man Avho is still alive can be
either fairly or fully Avritten. The most conscientious bio-
grapher must be hampered by the reflection that his pages Avill
be read by his hero. Praise under such circumstances degene-
rates into flattery, and censure is too often degraded into
abuse. Mr. Morley, even, Avriting of a period which has
become historical, finds it frequently necessary to suppress a
name. His conduct in doing so ought to Avarn less accom-
plished authors of the difficulties of dealing Avith recent history.
In making these observations, hoAvever. Ave are not ignorant
that recent practice is opposed to us. In literature, as in every
other article, the supply is created by \}iiQ demand; and any
62 The Life of Mr. Cohdni. Jan.
bookseller's catalogue may show how great is the demand Avhich
writers like ISIr. Barnctt Smitli are anxious to satisfy. Histo-
rians of our own times bring down their narratives to the day
before yesterday. Prominent personages have their biographies
told at unprecedented length, while the statesmen with whom
they were in communication are still alive ; and Mr. Smiles
ransacks the Highlands for living victims. In the presence of
such facts as these we may be sure that the public appetite
demands this kind of literature. We ought in justice to
blame the public which makes the demand, and not the writers
who supply it. We may even be thankful that the task should
fall to one so industrious and careful as Mr. Barnett Smith.
Having written so much, however, we must excuse ourselves
from following his example. We have too much respect for
Mr. Bright to speak of him, as we should wish to speak of him,
in his presence ; and we shall use Mr. Barnett Smith's book,
therefore, to illustrate the career of Mr. Cobden instead of
availing ourselves of it to describe the character of Mr. Bright.
Mr. Morley's Avork must be placed in another category. Its
• author set out with many advantages. Mr. Cobden's corre-
spondence was freely placed at his disposal. Mr. Cobden's
closest friends, ]Mr. Bright and Sir Louis Mallet, rendered
a hearty help. Mr. Morley himself is above the need of a
compliment ; it is sufficient to say that he is perhaps the most
capable exponent alive of the principles Avhich Mr. Cobden
spent his life in enforcing. Under these circumstances, we
opened his book with high expectations ; we closed it Avith the
conviction that these expectations had been fulfilled. There
are, of course, passages in it from which we differ ; there are
one or two errors which we may indicate afterwards. But the
■work is an admirable account of Mr. Cobden's career and
opinions. Mr. Morley has been fortunate in his subject, and
Mr. Cobden has been fortunate in his biographer.
Kichard Cobden was born on June 3, 1804, at Dunford,
within the boundaries of the little borough of Midhurst. There
is reason to believe that his ancestors had lived in the neighbour-
hood for generations. One Adamdc Coppedone (or Coppdene,
as iSIr. Morley spells it) was returned to Parliament for the
neighbouring borough of Chichester inA.D. 1313 (not 1314, as
Mr. Morley Avrites), and traces of the Coppedone or Cobden
family are found again in the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. These traces apparently
imply that its members had been once men of substance. In
recent times — as Lord Beaconsfield made Job Thornberry say
of them in ' Endymion ' — ' They had done about as well as
1882. The Life of Mr. Cobden. - 63
* their stock; they had existed, nothing more.' On the death
of Mr. Cobden's grandfather, in 1809, tlic little estate of
Dunford was sold, and Mi\ Cobden's father removed to a
small farm in the neighbourhood. For a short period the
high prices which war produced enabled him to support his
family. The fall of prices which ensued on a prospect of peace
involved hun in ruin. Mr. Cobden removed to Westmeon,
near Alton. His relations had the generosity to provide for
his large family of eleven or twelve children.
Young Cobden, the future statesman, was then a boy of
ten. He was sent by an uncle to a Yorkshire school. He
' remained for five years, a grim and desolate time,' in this
establishment, where he was ^ ill-fed, ill-taught, ill-used.'
During the whole of this period he never saw parent or friend,
while, once a quarter, he was required to thank his parents
for placing him in so advantageous an institution. Happily
for the boy, his poverty brought ' this cruel and disgusting
' mockery of an education ' to an early end. In 1819, when
he was fifteen years old, he was admitted into his uncle's ware-
house in London. Even here things did not run smoothly.
His uncle and aunt '^inflicted rather than bestowed their
^ bounties;' and they objected to the studies which the boy
pursued in his leisure hours. Fortunately their censure did
not divert him from his books. He found means of access, as
we learn from a short biography of him by Mr. Henry Richard,
to the well-filled shelves of the London Institution, while his
assiduity in the counting-house gradually reconciled his em-
ployers to the literary pursuits Avhich occupied his leisure.
Thus employed, the boy grew into the man. When he was
twenty-one years of age his mother died. Mr. Cobden had been
a good son. He had spent every holiday at Westmeon ; he had
devoted his little earnings to relieve the shabby poverty of the
Westmeon home. But he could hardly be expected to feel
acutely his mother's death. He had been separated from her
ever since he was ten years of age, and the chief link between
them was only held by memory. The livelier occupation, too,
which he obtained at the time would perhaps have distracted his
thoughts from a graver sorrow. He became a traveller for his
uncle's firm, and "in the next few months visited Scotland and
Ireland. Travel increases the knowledge and enlightens the
mind. Mr. Cobden, imbued with ' an insatiable desire to know
* the affairs of the world,' found amidst his ordinary avocations
opportunities of increasing his information. What is more to
our present purpose, he proved himself acute in his observa-
tions and graphic in his descriptions. His account of the Irish
64 The Life of Mr. Cohdcn. Jan.
people might have been incorporated with advantage in a
political pamphlet ; his description of the captain of the steamer
in which he crossed from Donaghadee to Port Patrick is as
humorous as a page of Dickens.
The freer life which Mr. Cobden thus enjoyed was soon
interrupted. His uncle's house fell in the storm which swept
over the financial world in 1825-6, and Mr. Cobden for more
than half a year lived a life of enforced idleness. In Septem-
ber 1826 one of his former employers resumed business, and
at once re-engaged his old traveller. Two years afterwards,
in partnership with two friends, he commenced business on his
own account, selling goods on commission. The new venture
was singularly successful. In three years' time Mr, Cobden
was enjoying an income of 800/. a year. He was on the eve,
however, of a more important success. In 1831 Lord Althorp
repealed the heavy excise duty which a former generation had
imposed, to encourage the Avoollen trade, on printed calicoes.
Mr. Cobden and his partners foresaw the stimulus which
would be given to the trade by the repeal of the duty, and
decided, instead of selling other people's goods, to print their
own calicoes in future.* They acquired for the purpose a fac-
tory at Sabden, in that beautiful district of Lancashire where
the Calder rolls its tributary waters — black now with a hundred
pollutions — into the Kibble. Prosperity attended the fresh
venture ; and, success stimulating development, the firm opened
a branch at Manchester. Two of the partners conducted the
London business ; one superintended the Sabden works. Mr.
Cobden himself resided at Manchester.
In the midst of his business he found time for other work.
As a boy in his uncle's office he had mastered French in his
leisure hours ; in Manchester he studied mathematics and
Latin. He was as zealous for the education of his neighbours
as for his own. He commenced his career as an agitator by
advocating the formation of a school at Sabden ; he commenced
his career as a politician by contributing some articles to the
' Manchester Times.' In search of designs for his business he
visited Paris in 1833; he extended a similar journey, under-
taken in 1834, to Switzerland. With a mind enlarged by
travel and study, he addressed himself, in 1835, to the compo-
sition of his first important pamphlet, ' England, Ireland, and
* This is Mr. Morley's account (i. 18), but it is not quite consistent
with a letter (ii. 363) in -which Mr. Cobden says that he was one of a
deputation of calico printers whicli urged on the Government the
repeal of the excise dut}' on prints.
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 65
* America.' Mr. Morley traces the publication of tliis pamphlet
to the profound views of government which, he thinks, Mr.
Cobden had at that time formed. We, on the contrary, arc
inclined to regai'd it as a protest against Lord Palmerston's
foreign policy. Lord Pahnerston, it must be recollected, com-
menced, in the summer of 1834, the career of active interven-
tion which distinguished his subsequent administration of the
Foreign Office. Long afterwards Mr. Cobden himself wrote
that the pamphlet contained many crude details which he would
not have printed at a later time, but that it laid down three
broad propositions on Avhich he had never changed his opinion.
' They were, first, that the great curse of our policy has been
' our love of intervention in foreign politics ; secondly, that our
' greatest home difficulty is Ireland ; and, thirdly, that the
' United States is the great economical rival which Avill rule
' the destiny of England.' It would be impossible to give a
more accurate idea than this sentence affords of Mr. Cobden's
general conceptions of policy.
Mr. Cobden's pamphlet passed through several editions, and
the author, stimulated by his success, longed to visit the Trans-
atlantic Republic which he foresaw was to become the rival
of his own country. He persuaded his partners to consent to
his absence, and he left England for the purpose on May 1,
returning in the middle of August 1835. Mr. Morley might
have pointed out, as a striking example of the benefits which
steam has conferred upon mankind, that, though Mr. Cobden
was absent for more than a hundred days, only thirty-seven
of them were passed in America. Nearly two days out of every
three were occupied with the voyages. Mr. Cobden found time
in his rapid tour to visit all the Eastern States, to penetrate to
the Mis'sissippi Valley, and to see Niagara. The fertility and
extent of the great Mississippi Valley made the same profound
impression upon him as on M. de Tocqueville, and Mr. Cob-
den's account of it reads like an extract from one of the earlier
chapters of the ' Democratic en Amerique.' But * the great
* glory of the American continent ' was Niagara, and Mr. Cob-
den afterwards alluded to the Falls in a really fine sentence :
' Nature has the sublimity of rest, and the sublimity of motion.
' The sublimity of rest is in the great snow mountains ; the
' sublimity of motion is in Niagara.'
After his return to England, in August 1835, Mr. Cobden
remained at home for fourteen months. He found time, amidst
his ordinary duties, to follow up his first political pamphlet
with a second on Russia. The new pamphlet, like the former
one, was suggested by the state of affairs at the time of its
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. F
66 The Life oj Mr. Cohdni. Jan.
publication. Mr. Urquliart -was stimulating public feeling
ao-ainst Russia ; Lord Palnierston was supporting him in Con-
stantinople ; Tories and Kadicals in Parliament -were indignant
at the advance of Kussia in Asia, and on the shores of Cir-
cassia ; and at the meetings of the Russian, Prussian, and
Austrian sovereigns, and the occupation of Cracow ; and
England seemed on the eve of embarking on a crusade to
support Poland and Turkey against Russia. It was amidst
this clamour that Mr. Cobden undertook to prove that Eng-
land had only a remote interest in Eastern Europe, and that
she could not possibly be served by maintaining a power which
had not constructed ' one furlong of canal or navigable stream
* in three hundred years.' The true danger to English supre-
macy, he repeated, did not lie in the advance of Russia, but in
the progress of America. The true method by Avhich England
could maintain her position was by refraining from costly
interventions, and developing her own trade. In his first
pamphlet he had proposed the repeal of the Corn Laws, and
advocated the imposition of a moderate fixed duty — probably
2.?. a quarter — on corn. In his second pamphlet he held up
Pitt's commercial treaty Avith France as an example to diplo-
macy. In the one he thus sounded the first note of the struggle
which he was almost immediately to commence ; in the other he
defended by anticipation the chief labour of his closing years.
In the autumn of 1836 Mr. Cobden's health o-ave Avav, and
his medical advisers recommended him to pass the winter in a
warmer climate. In accordance with their recommendations, he
visited Lisbon, Cadiz, Gibraltar, Malta, Egypt — where he had
an interview with Mehemet Ali — Scio, Constantinople, Smyrna,
and Athens. Mr. Morley publishes a few extracts from Mr.
Cobden's letters and his diary during this tour ; but these
extracts give us a keen desire for more. Whatever opinion
may be formed of Mr. Cobden's political views, there can be
only one judgment on the purity of his style and the vigour
and humour of his descriptions. We advise all our readers to
read for themselves his account of his voyage up the Nile and
of his interview with Mehemet Ali.
We have dwelt at considerable length on these passages in
Mr. Cobden's earlier life, because they in some measure explain
his later career. The education which most public men receive
at school or at college iSIr. Cobden acquired in the countino--
housc, in travel, or in his own study. Soon after his return
from the East, William IV. died; Parliament was dissolved ;
and jNIr. Cobden was proposed as member for Stockport. He
i882. The Life of Mr. Cohdau 67
was beaten at the poll, and obtained in consequence a little
leisure for attending to his OAvn business. Everything was
o'oing well Avitli him. The capital of tlie firm had grown to
80,000/. ; the net jn'ofits had in one year exceeded 20,000/. ;
and Mr. Cobden could fairly look forward to devoting an
increasing portion of his time to the political questions in
which his interest was constantly increasing. In 1838 he
threw himself into the struggle for obtaining a charter of incor-
poration for Manchester; in 1839 he separated from his old
partners, and embarked with his elder brother, Frederick, in a
separate business; and in 1840 'he took another momentous
* step in marrying Miss Catherine Anne Williams, a young
* Welsh lady, whose acquaintance he had made as a school
* friend of one of his sisters.' At the general election in the
following year he retrieved his former failure, and was returned
for Stockport. His career had up to this point been one of almost
continuous prosperity. If he had achieved no great political
distinction, he had fortune, happiness, and friends. He was
on the eve of the greatest political struggle and of the greatest
political victory of the century ; but it may be doubted whether
be ever afterwards knew happiness without an alloy.
x7o complete picture has yet been painted of the unhappy
period which commenced soon after the commencement of the
present reign, and terminated with the repeal of the Corn
Laws in 1846. The reader Avho desires to understand it, and
who has not patience to wade through a mass of Blue Book
literature, should compare the accounts of it by Mr. Carlyle
in ' Chartism,' by Lord Beaconsfield in ' Sybil,' and by Mrs.
Gaskell in ' Mary Barton.' It is sufficient here to say that in
the middle of this period the condition of the people of England
was probably more deplorable than it had ever been before, or
than it has ever been since. Kelatively to the population,
there were more paupers and more criminals than at any other
period of our history. The working classes, maddened by
distress, were organised as Chartists or as Socialists. In the
course of three years the expenditure exceeded the revenue by
about 5,000,000/. ; trade was everywhere stagnant ; agricul-
ture was evei'ywhere suffering, and a nation of workmen was
idle because no man had hired them. The central fact which
engaged the attention of every thoughtful man was the condition
of the people. Humane persons, like the present Lord Shaftes-
bury, desired to amend it by regulating factory labour ; free-
traders, like Mr. Cobden, desired to amend it by giving the
people cheap bread. Mr. Trevelyan's readers vrill recollect
68 The Life of Mr. Cohden. Jn
an.
tlie vigorous argument Avith which Macaulay met the objectors
to a Ten Hours' Bill: —
' You try to frighten us by telling us that, in some German fac-
tories, the young work seventeen hours in the twenty-four ; that they
•work so hard tliat among thousands tliere is not one who groAvs to such
a stature that he can be admitted into the army ; and you ask whether,
if we pass this Bill, w^e can possibly hold our own against such compe-
tition as this. Sir, I laugh at the thought of such competition. If ever
we are forced to yield the foremost place among commercial nations, we
shall yield it, not to a race of degenerate dwarfs, but to some people
pre-eminently vigorous in body and mind.'
But ]\Ir. Cobdcn used exactly the same argument for urging
Corn Law repeal : —
' I will tell the House that, by deteriorating the population, they will
run the risk of spoiling not merely the animal but the intellectual
creature. It is not a potato-fed race that will ever lead the way iu
arts, arms, or commerce.'
A small group of politicians had already advocated the
repeal of the Corn Laws. ' In 183G an Anti-Corn Law
' association had been formed In London : ' but the cause made
no progress. ' The free-traders,' Lord Sydenham said with a
pang, ' have never been orators since Pitt's early da vs. We
' hammered away with facts and figures and some arguments,.
' but we could not elevate the subject.' At the end of ISSS'
seven men met at an hotel in Manchester, and formed a ncAv
Anti-Corn LaAV Association. They were speedily joined by
Cobden, who soon infused his OAvn energy into their delibera-
tions. ' Let us,' he said at one of their earliest meetings,
* Invest part of our property, in order to save the rest from con-
' fiscation.' AVitliin a month 6,000/. avus subscribed in response
to his rtppeal, and the Association avowed its determination,
' by all legal and constitutional means,' to obtain the total and
immediate repeal of the Corn Laws. Its members were san-
guine enough to imagine that tlieir jictltions, jn-esented by the
hundred at a time, would exert, a powerful influence on the
House of Commons. They soon discovered their error. One
noble lord told them that they could overturn the monarchy
as easily as they could upset the C(u-n Laws. The Prime
Minister made the memorable declaration that the states-
man Avho repealed them Avould be ' woi-se than mad,' Sir
•Taiues Graham declared that, if the Corn Laws were rejicaled,
JCngland Avould be the last country wiiicli he should wish to
inhabit; and jMr, Villiers, who, on two separate occasions,
raised great debates on the subject, was beaten by large
majorities.
18S2. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 69
This preliminary struggle convinced Mr. Cobden that
strenuous efforts were necessary to ensure success. He had
familiarised himself with the organisation of associations ; he
had described the machinery of agitation in his earliest
])amphlet ; he had subscribed to O'Counell's ' Rent,' and he
now threw all his energies into the task of dispelling what he
once called the 'opaque ignorance' of the English people.
The Anti-Corn Law Association became the Anti-Corn Law
League; the Anti-Corn Law League published the ' Anti-
' Corn Law Circular ; ' and lecturers, often the objects of abuse
nnd violence, were sent round the country to educate the
people. But organisation, in the first instance, produced no
appreciable effect. The majority against Mr. Villiers's motion
in 1840 was almost as large as the majority in 1839. In
1841, indeed, the Whig Government made the memorable
proposal for a fixed duty on corn. But this, the last resource
of a falling Ministry, did not encourage the free-traders. It
was universally felt that the new policy was dictated by the
necessities of the Cabinet. The general election, which imme-
diately succeeded, placed the Whigs in a helpless minority,
and the Conservatives, supported by protectionists, entered
office.
At that time corn was admissible under a duty which rose
nnd fell with every variation in the price. When the price of
^vheat was 735. a quarter, foreign wheat was admissible on a 1^.
duty ; but, as the price fell, the duty rose. When the price was
at 60.<?., the duty rose to 275. %d. ; when the price fell to 50.9.,
the duty rose to 36^. 8^/. Sir Robert Peel retained a sliding
scale varying with the price of corn ; but he threw away half
the protection which the agriculturists had previously enjoyed.
When the price of wheat was 73^., he retained the \s. duty ;
but the duty rose only to 125. when the price fell to 6O5. ; it
Tose to only 20^. when the price fell to 505. This measure
was the first of the great proposals which Sir Robert Peel
brought forward in 1842. In the same session he remodelled
the import duties. Mr. Morley says, in an obscure sentence,
that he reduced the duties on raw materials to ' an almost
* nominal amount,' and on half-manufactured articles ' to a
^ nominal amount.' What Sir Robert Peel really did was to
provide that the duties on raw materials should not as a general
rule exceed 5 per cent, of their value ; that the duties on partly
manufactured articles should not exceed 12 per cent. ; and that
the duties on manufactured articles should not exceed 20 per
cent. To provide for the loss from these alterations and from
concurrent changes in the timber and sugar duties, as Avell as
70 The Life of Mr. Cohdcn. Jan.
to terminate the embarrassing deficits of the previous years, he
im]iosed an income tax of 7f/. in the pound.
These measures constituted the greatest advance towards
Tree Trade that had been made in England for two liundred
years. They ought — so it seems to us— to have received Mr.
Cobden's support. He was under no obligations to the
Whigs ; he proved himself afterwards a warm advocate of
direct taxation, and he had every right to be satisfied Avith a
concession Avhich gave up to him more than one half of the
cause for which he was struggling. But the measures, on the
contrary, encovuitered his strenuous opposition. He resisted
the income tax, he denounced the new Corn Law as * an
* insult to a suffering people ; ' he had persuaded himself that
the w^alls of Protection Avould fall down before the first blast
of his trumpet in Parliament, and he complained that the
iSIinistry had not surrendered the citadel, instead of rejoicing
over its abandonment of the approaches.
Thus thinking, he stimulated the League to new agitation.
It had already expended 25,000/. ; it decided on spending
oO,OOOZ. in the next twelve months. ' The staff of lecturers
* was again despatched on its missionary errand. To each
* elector in the kingdom was sent a little library of tracts."
In the autumn of 1842 Mr. Cobden converted Scotland to
free-trade principles ; in the spring of 1843 London was
startled by the first of the many meetings held at Drury Lane
Theatre ; Tories and country gentlemen were astounded and
alarmed at the organisation of" the League ; the ' Quarterly
* Review ' denounced it as ' the foulest, the most selfisli, and
* altogether perhaps the most dangerous combination of recent
* times ; ' ^ and the Ministry was invited in Parliament ^
promise that it would suppress assemblages * collected together
' and addressed by demagogues in inflammatory language.'
The Minister Avas not moved by the clamour around him.
He had taken his stand on the great measures of 1842, and he
calmly aAvaited the result of his policy. He declined, on the
one hand, to suppress the League; he refused, on the other,
to adopt the League's programme. One thing, moreover,
gave him confidence in his j)osition. Trade, Avhich had stag-
nated for seven years, showed symptoms of healthier activity
in the spring of 1843. As the summer advanced the demand
for labour increased, and the jNlinister had a right to hope that
agitation would expire as prosperity returned. In this expec-
tation, however, he overlooked one factor. The speakers of
* The passage is in the ' Quarterly Review,' vol. Ixxi. p. 244.
1882. The Life of Mr. Cobden. 71
the League had hitherto fought the battle of the consumer ;
the consumer, under the combined influences of higher wages
and cheaper corn, Avas becoming a more languid agitator.
But the prosperity which the community Avas enjoying had
not reached the agricultural classes ; farmers and labourers
were still suffering from a prolonged agricultural depression :
their discontent made them fit objects for a zealous missionary
effort, and the managers of the League accordingly decided to
penetrate the stronghold of Toryism, and attempt the con-
version of the agricultural classes. In the new campaign
Mr. Cobden was still the chief apostle of Free Trade ; but he
received effectual assistance from the co-operation of Mr.
Bright.
Mr. Bright, like Mr. Cobden, was sprung from the people.
In one of his earlier speeches he said of himself, ' I am a
' working man as much as you. My father was as poor as
* any man in this crowd. He boasts not — nor do I — of birth,
' nor of great family distinctions. What he has made, he has
' made by his own industry.' Sprung from the people, Mr.
Bright had reflected deeply on the causes of the people's
suffering. He had denounced -'the odious Corn Law,' and
he was one of the first members of the Anti-Corn Law Asso-
ciation. He has himself told the story of his own summons
to be the Apostle of Free Trade ; often as it has been told, it
will bear the retelling : —
' On the day when Mr. Cobden called on me (in the autumn of
1841) I was in the depth o£ grief. All that was left on earth of my
young wife, except the memory of a sainted life and a too brief happi-
ness, Avas lying stiff and cold in the chamber above us. Mr. Cobden
called on me as my friend, and addressed me, as you might suppose,
with words of condolence. After a time he looked up and said,
<' There are thousands of houses in England where Avives, mothers, and
children are dying of hunger. Noav, Avlien the first paroxysm of your
grief is past, I advise you to come Avith me, and Ave Avill never rest
till the Corn LaAV is repealed." '
Mr. Bright had already stood at Mr. Cobden's right hand
during the agitation of 1842. He had been elected for Durham
in the summer of 1843. He threw himself into the agricul-
tural campaign Avhich Mr. Cobden initiated. The two friends,
with other zealous emissaries, attended meetings in agricul-
tural districts, explained the principles of Free Trade, and
beat the landlords, in Mr. Cobden's phrase, ' on their OAvn
' dunghill' Country gentlemen, like the late Sir John
Tyrrell, A^d^o had the hardihood to meet the agitators, fled
discomfited from the encounter. It was obvious that it Avas
72 The Life of Mr. C oh den. Jan.
no longer possible to ignore the League. The ' Times ' de-
clared that ' it Avas a great fact ; ' Mr. Carlyle declared in
' Past and Present ' that ' if he were the Conservative party,
* he -would not for a hundred thousand pounds an hour .allow
* the Corn LaAVS to continue ; ' while Mr. Cobden himself, fol-
lowing up the victory Avhich he had achieved in rural England,
asked the House in 1844, and again in 1845, to appoint
Committees to enquire into the effect of the Corn Laws on
agriculture.
The speech Avhicli jNIr. Cobden delivered on the last of
these two occasions Avas the most successful he ever made.
Sir Robert Peel himself felt its poAver. ' His face grew more
' and more solemn as the argument proceeded. At length ' —
so Avrites Mr. Morley — 'he crumpled up the notes AAdiich he
' had been taking, and Avas heard by an onlooker, Avho Avas
* close by, to say to Mr. Sidney Herbert, Avho sat next liim
* on the i3ench, " You must answer this, for /cannot." ' The
story receives some confirmation from the circumstance that
Mr. Sidney Herbert did rise to answer the speech. But Ave
do not think that Mr. Morley's version of it is correct. Sir
Robert Peel Avas the last Minister Avho Avould have delegated
to a subordinate a task for A\'hich he felt himself unequal.
We believe that AA'hat did occur is stated more accurately by
the late Mr. W. R. Greg.* The Tories, while Mr. Cobden
Avas speaking, asked, ' Why does not Peel ansAver this ? ' and
Peel murmured audibly, ' Those may ansAver him aa^io can.'
In truth, the success of his OAvn measures had con\^erted Sir
Robert Peel to a policy of Free Trade. Tlie country had
prospered under the freer system which he had himself insti-
tuted ; good Aveathcr had accelerated the improA'ement, and
abundant harvests had reduced the price of wheat from 65.?.
to 45^. a quarter. In 1842 Sir Robert Peel had thought that
the rate of Avages Avould fall Avith the price of food. In the
next three years the price of food fell and the rate of Avages
rose. A Avorking man of Oldham, Avhom Mr. Cobden once
quoted, explained the matter clearly enough : — ' When pro-
' visions are high the people have so much to pay for them
* that they have little or nothing left to buy clothes AA'ith ;
* and Avhen they have little to buy clothes AA'ith, few clothes
' are sold ; and Avhen there are fcAv clothes sold, there are
* too many to sell ; and Avhen there are too many to sell,
' they are very cheap ; and Avhen they are very cheap, there
' cannot be much paid for making them.' But, Avhen pro-
* Essnys on Political and Social Science, ii. 356.
1882. The Life of 31r. Cohden. 73
visions are cheap, the working man buys more clothes, ' and
* that increases the demand for them, and the greater demand
* makes them rise in price, and the rising in price enables the
* working man to get higher wages.' In 1845 Sir liobert
Peel had adopted the view of the Oldham working man.
Staunch Tories saw that they could not trust their leader to
fight the battle of Protection ; the late Sir E. KnatchbuU
retired from the Cabinet ; and Mr. Disraeli redoubled (not
opened, as Mr. Morley writes) ' the raking fire ' with which he
had assailed the Minister in 1843 and 1844.
Though, however, the experience of three years had altered
Sir Kobert Peel's opinions, the change would not, under
ordinary circumstances, have induced him to modify his policy.
If the country had continued to prosper, free trade in corn
would not have been carried in 1846. It was the failure of
the potato crop, and not the conversion of Sir Robert Peel,
which was the immediate cause of Free Trade. The Minister
saw that the failure of a crop, which was the sole food of six
millions of people, must produce famine ; that famine must
necessitate the opening of the ports ; and he felt that, if the
ports were once opened, he had no arguments to justify
reclosing them. The old arguments for Protection, which had
apparently rung truly enough in 1842, sounded dull, like false
metal, in 1845. He summoned the Cabinet, and stated his
difficulties in November. A council of Avar never fights : the
Cabinet adjourned for a month. The crisis, which had looked
ffrave enouo-h at the besrinnino;, looked much more grave at
the close of the month. Lord John Russell, adoptmg Mr.
Cobden's principles, declared the Corn Laws ' the blight of
* commerce and the bane of agriculture.' Sir Robert Peel
formally insisted on the modification of the whole policy of
Protection ; and, as he failed to secure the support of a united
Cabinet, resigned his office.
According to Sir Theodore Martin, Lord Grey desired that
Mr. Cobden should fill a place in the Cabinet which Lord John
Russell then attempted to form. Mr. Morley merely records
that Mr. Cobden was oflTered the Vice-Presidency of the
Board of Trade. On the day, however, on which the offer
was made, the attempt of Lord John Russell to form a
Ministry failed ; Sir Robert Peel almost immediately returned
to office ; Parliament was assembled, and the protracted debates
commenced which ultimately resulted in the triumph of Free
Trade, and in the defeat and fall of the Minister Avho
carried it.
In the long struggle which thus took place, the Protection-
74 The Life of Mr. Cohdcn. Jan.
ists used the arguments of the seventeenth and the tactics of
the nineteentli century. Tliey resorted to the old fallacies
Avhichhad passed current in the days of Davenant; they orga-
nised obstruction with a success which Mr. Parnell might
envy.* The best help which a free-trader could give to the
Ministr}'' was, to remain silent and save time ; and Mr.
Cobdcn, on the whole, preserved silence throughout the debates
of 1846. When, however, the fall of Sir Kobert Peel Avas
imminent, Mr. Cobden preserved his silence no longer. He
wrote to Sir Robert Peel, urged him to dissolve the Parlia-
ment, and, placing himself at the head of a progressive party,
appeal to the country, Avhich approved his ])olicy. Sir Kobert
Peel rejected Mr. Cobden's advice in a letter which will
perhaps be read with more interest than any other document
which Mr. Morley has published. He took the opportunity
five days afterwards of publicly attributing the victory of Free
Trade to ' the pure and disinterested motives, the untiring
* energy of Richard Cobden ; ' and so, giving the credit to
another, the great Minister descended from office, while the
great agitator found himself, for the first time for seven years,
free to devote his whole energy to his own aifairs.
It was high time for Mr. Cobden to examine the state of his
own business. Since his partnership with his brother Frederick
everything had gone wrong in it. In 1845, he was obliged to
obtain the temporary assistance of a small loan to stave ofl* his
immediate embarrassments. He made up his mind to leave
Parliament and abandon public business, as the only possible
method of avoiding ruin. Nothing but the generous assistance
which he obtained from Mr. Bright and some other friends
diverted him from his intention. But the help Avhich thus
enabled him to continue at his post only postponed the crisis
which Avas constantly imminent. The anxiety which per-
petually harassed him told on his health : a cold caught in
the winter of 1845-6 attacked both throat and ear. The
prostration from which he subsequently suffered convinced
him hoAv much his constitution had ' been impaired by the
' excitement and wear and tear of the last few years.' He had
the satisfaction in June of witnessing the completion of his
own political triumph, but he retired from the contest an
enfeebled and a ruined man.
* Mr. Disraeli, in his 'Life of Lord G. Bentinck,' writes that
Lord George ' devoted all his energies to the maintenance of the dead-
* lock,' i.e. the paralysis o£ Parliamentary business from obstruction.
(P. 202.)
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 75
Mr. Cobden's friends, however, had no intention to desert
their leader in the hour of his victory. A sum of money was
at once subscribed in testimony of the exertions of the League.
A small portion of it was invested in the purchase of a library
and a bookcase, which were presented to Mr. Bright. A much
larger sum of 75,OOOZ. or 80,000/. was given to Mr. Cobden.
No fair critic will complain that Mr. Cobden should liave
allowed a generous public to repair his wasted fortune by a
national subscription. Mr. Cobden's own outspoken defence
of himself at Aylesbury, in 1850 — ' I say that no warrior
* duke, who owns a vast domain by the vote of the Imperial
' Parliament, holds his property by a more honourable title
* than that by which I possess mine ' — disposes once for all of
the matter. But there is no arguing Avith a sentiment, and
the sentiment of the British people is opposed to subscriptions
of this character. Mr. Cobden suffered in the public estimation,
as Burke and Pitt had suffered before him, from his embarrass-
ments ; he suffered, as Grattan had suffered before him, from
the munificence of the reward which he received.
The subscription, however, made Mr. Cobden a free man ;
and, in company Avith his wife, he left England, and sought in
more genial climates to repair his broken health. His progress
Avas one continuous triumph, and the greatest men in Europe
courted the agitator Avho had forced the British Parliament to
repeal the Corn LaAVS. He returned to England, after fourteen
months' absence, in October 1847 ; he took his seat in the
beginning of 1848 as member for the West Riding of York-
shire. For the next three years he busily advocated retrench-
ment. He Avas the teller of ' a miserable minority ' of 38
(not 328, as Mr. Morley Avrites), on a motion for the reduction
of the Navy Estimates. He published a ' National Budget for
' Financial Reformers to Avork up to,' which reduced the Army
and Navy estimates from 18,500,000/. to 10,000,000/. But
he failed to make any impression on public opinion. He even
differed from Mr. Bright on the course which should be pur-
sued. Mr. Cobden Avished to form a ncAv ' League for promoting
' financial reform. Mr. Bright insisted that no object was worth
' a real and great effort, short of a thorough reform in Parlia-
' ment.' Mr!! Bright believed in large additions to the electors.
Mr. Cobden, misled by the success of an experiment in 1845,
suggested the Avholesale manufacture of 40^. freeholders. The
spectacle of a great agitator creating faggot votes is not exhi-
larating, and no surprise need be felt that the new movement
excited little enthusiasm. There Avas no breeze from without to
swell the sails ; the pilots in charge suggested contrary courses.
76 The Life of Mr. Cuhdcn. Jan.
and the vessel of lieform drifted no one knew -whither on a
trackless ocean.
INIovenients, however, were already in force Avhich were to
give Mr. Cobden the impvdse which he required. In the
summer of 1849, the friends of j)eace met in congress in Paris,
and jNIr. Cobden joined them. In the next few months, Lord
Palmerston jnished his system of intervention to an extreme
by despatching a fleet to Athens for the sake of obtaining
compensation ibr Don Pacifico. Mr. Cobden, who had begun
the year by declaring that he could die happy if he * could feel
* the satisfaction of having in some degree contributed to the
"' partial disarmament of the world,' was convinced before the
close of it that disarmament could only be secured by a radical
alteration of foreign policy. The force of cii'cumstances drove
him back into the position which he had commenced his career
by supporting ; and the rest of his life Avas mainly devoted to
a vigorous assault upon the system of foreign policy whicii is
identified with the name of Lord Palmerston.
A rapid succession of events in France, which commenced
with the publication of a pamphlet on the French Navy by
the Prince de Joinville, and which culminated in the election
of Napoleon as Emperor, had convinced many people that war
must ultimately ensue between France and England. This
country in 1852-3 was flooded with panic literature ; to quote
Mr. Cobden's own words, * the militia Avas preparing for duty ;
' the coasts and dockyards were being fortified ; the navy,
* army, and artillery were all in course of augmentation ; and
* the latest paragraph of news from the Continent was that
* our neiglibours on the other side of the Channel were prac-
* tising the embarkation and disembarkation of troops by night.'*
This panic, Mr. Cobden set himself to stem by voice and pen.
The chief speech which he made for the purpose may be
read in the second volume of his collected Speeches. But the
pamphlet which he published with the same view Avill repay
perusal better than the S])eech. In this pamphlet, ' 1793 ' (not
1792, as Mr. INIorley writes), ' and 1853,' Mr. Cobden ex-
amined the causes of the great war, and contrasted the circum-
stances of 1793 with tliose of his own time. France, he
argued, was not responsible for the old Avar, Avhich Avas forced
on her by the conduct of the English nation and of the English
people. France, lie contended, no more desired Avar in 1853
than she had wished for it in 1793 ; and the panic Avhich
* Tills extract is from Sir. Cobden's last pamphlet, * The Three
•* Panics,' Political Writings, vol. ii. p. 209.
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 77
Agitated England was due to ignorance of what was passino'
in France. The success of the pamphlet was extraordinary.
The ' Times ' reprinted it in extenso ; * the Peace Society
circulated 50,000 copies ; and it was translated into many
languages, and was read by hundreds of thousands of people.
By one of those singular revolutions, however, Avhich occasion-
ally happen, the cause Avhich had inspired it was removed soon
after its publication. French and English, instead of pre-
jiaring for conflict with each other, entered a new war as close
allies ; and the panic Avhicli Englishmen had endui'ed waa
forgotten under the excitement of a new campaign.
We have no intention of attempting in this article to unravel
the causes of the Crimean War. Whether Lord Aberdeen
was right in telling Mr. Cobden that the press forced the
Government into war ; whether Mr. Cobden was right in
assuming that Lord Aberdeen was forced into the war against
his own conviction, and at the dictation of others ; whether Mr.
Gladstone lent himself to the delusion that people could be
indulged with a cheap war — these are questions that we can
no more determine here than we can attempt to consider
whether the Peace Society, by propagating the opinion that
England would not fight, encouraged the Emperor Nicholas to
push matters to an extreme. Here we must be content to
notice the effect of the war on Mr. Cobden's own position.
He and Mr. Bright ' had lived on opinion, they had placed
' their Avhole heart in it, they had won their great victory by
' it. This divinity now proved as false an idol as the rest. . . .
' Mr. Bright was burnt in effigy. Mr. Cobden, at a meeting
' of his own constituency . . . saw resolutions carried against
' him.' The country refused to listen to their arguments
against the Crimean War, because, as Mr. Kinglake pointed
out, they were known to be against almost all war. Yet the
two friends, though they had become the most unpopular men
in England, maintained their own principles with a firmness
and ability which ought to have commanded the approbation
even of their opponents. The greatest oratorical efforts w^hicli
Mr. Bright ever made were made in the cause of peace. His first
serious illness was due to these exertions. Mr. Cobden was
almost equally energetic. He was ready with a protest when
Lord Palmerston thought proper to describe Mr. Bright as the
Honourable and Peverend Gentleman. In the summer of
1855 he made one of his most forcible speeches on the failure
* The pamphlet would occupy from ninety to one hundred pages
of this Keview.
78 The Life of Mr. Cohden. Jan.
of the Vienna negotiation ; in the winter of 1856 he published
a pamphlet ' What Next — and Next ? ' as a protest against the
further prosecution of the war. Pamphlet and speech made
no impression ; and Mr. Cobdeu became so convinced of the
futility of argument during war that he determined^ should
war again break out, never to open his ' mouth upon the sub-
* ject from the time when the first gun Avas fired until the peace
* was made.'
In the midst of this period — when his popularity had for
the first time waned — Mr. Cobden sustained a blow Avhich
drove him temporarily from public life. His only son, ' a boy
* of singular energy and promise,' fifteen years old, was seized
with fever, and died at a German school before his parents
knew that he was ill. ' Mr. Cobden felt as men of his open
* and simple nature are wont to feel, when one of the great
* cruelties of life comes home to their own bosoms.' ' Mrs.
* Cobden sat for many days like a statue of marble . . . her
* hair blanching with the hours." We have no desire, however,
to dwell on the details of Mr. and Mrs. Cobden's sorrow. We
are only concerned with it so far as it illustrates INIr. Cobden's
character. During the seventeen years of his wedded life he
had been a faithful and indulgent husband ; but his heart,
through the whole time, had been in the work of his life, and
not in his home. No doubt there are some women w^ho, like
the child wafe in ' David Copperfield,' are content to sit hold-
ing their husband's pens ; or who, when their husband is
absent on a Avar Avhich has cost them a brother's life, can sit
down, like Henry Lawrence's wife, and compose the touching
poem * The Soldier's Bride.' Such women as Lady Lawrence,
however, need not excite the envy of their sisterhood, and
Mrs. Cobden was not of the stuff of which such women are
made. ' I sometimes think,' she said to her husband, ' that,
* after all the good Avork that you have done, and in spite
* of fame and great position, it Avould have been better for
' us both if, after you and I married, Ave had gone to settle
* in the backAvoods of Canada.' And Cobden could only say,
after a moment or two, that he Avas not sure that Avhat she
said was not too true. After his son's death, Mr. Cobden
did something to atone for the long absences Avhich must
occasionally have made his young Avife's life very dreary. ' I
' have not been out of her sight for an hour at a time
* (except at the funeral) since Ave learned our bereavement:
' and I do not believe she Avould have been alive and in
' her senses now if I had not been able to lessen her grief
' by sharing it.' * She is as helpless as one of her young
1882. The Life of Mr. Cobden. 79
* children/ he wrote a little afterwards. ' No other human
* being but myself can afford her the slightest relief. I some-
' times doubt whether for the next six months I shall be able
' to leave her for twenty-four hours together.'
Throughout the remainder of 1856, Mr. Cobden entirely with-
drew from affairs. In the beginning of 1857 he was drawn back
into public life by the attraction of a great cause. In the
course of the previous year the Chinese authorities at Canton
had boarded the ' Arrow/ lying in the Canton River, and taken
fi-ora her twelve pirates. The British Plenipotentiary at
Hongkong had demanded the immediate release of the men,
and a full apology. The Chinese Governor released the men,
but refused to apologise, as the ' Arrow " Avas not a British
ship. As a matter of fact the Chinese Governor was rio-ht.
The license which the British authorities had granted to the
* Arrow ' had expired some ten days before the alleged outrao-e
had been committed. But the British Plenipotentiary did not
wait to examine the facts. He insisted on the apology ; bom-
barded Canton ; and commenced the Chinese War. It Avas,
of course, open to the Ministry to disown the conduct of its
Plenipotentiary. With, perhaps, more generosity than prudence,
it decided on supporting him. No other course could have
been expected from Lord Palraerston, Avhose politics, Mr.
Morley declares, ' never got beyond Civis Romanus, especially
* Avhen he was dealing Avith a very Aveak poAver.'
The British Plenipotentiary at Hongkong Avas the late
Sir John BoAvring, a Liberal, the friend of Mr. Cobden, once
a member of the Corn Law League and of the Peace Society.
Mr. Cobden, hoAvever, Avas not deterred by this circumstance
from attacking his policy. He emerged irom his retirement
to propose the famous Resolution AAdiich dealt a deathbloAv to
the Parliament of 1852. By a majority of 16 the House
declared that the violent measures resorted to at Canton were
not justified : and Lord Palmerston appealed to the country.
The Civis Romanus policy, hoAvever, Avas popular Avith the
electors. Lord Palmerston secured a large majority. ' The
* Manchester School Avas routed.' Mr. Cobden, who gave up
his seat for the West Riding, Avas defeated at Huddersfield.
Mr. Bright and Mr. Milner Gibson Avere at the bottom of the
poll at Manchester. Nothing like the election had been ' seen
* since the disappearance of the Peace Whigs in 1812, Avhe'n
* Brougham, Romilly, Tierney, Lamb, and Horner all lost their
* seats.'
For more than two years after the election of 1857 Mr.
Cobden remained out of Parliament. In a public sense these
80 The Life of Mr. Cohdci. Jan.
two years were the least eventful of his career. lie made no
speech in them Avhich Mr. Bright and Mr. Tliorold Kogers
have thought it Avorth while to preserve ; he wrote no pamphlets.
His private embarrassments partly accounted for his public
silence. The testimonial, which had been presented to him in
1846, had not permanently relieved him from difficulty. ^\^ith
part of the money he had extricated himself from his liabilities ;
with another part he had purchased the little estate at Dun-
ford, on Avhich he had been born, and on which he thence-
forward resided. The residue he had invested in the shares of
the Illinois Central Railway. Mr. Cobden imagined that the
resources of the great valley through which the line ran would
make it a valuable property ; he failed to see that time was
necessary to develop even such resources as those of the
Mississippi Valley. He had expected dividends, and, instead
of dividends, calls were made on his shares. J\Ir. Cobden,
reluctant to sell at a loss, Avas forced to borrow money to pay
the calls. Instead of getting rid of a liability, he had, of
course, only changed his creditor : and the old embarrassments
soon returned iu a new form. Mr. Thomasson of Bolton,
hearing that ]\[r Cobden was ' embarrassed by one of these
' outstanding loans, released the shares and sent them to him
* with a request that he would do him the favour to accept
' their freedom at his hands, " in acknowledgment of his vast
* " services to his country and mankind." ' On a later
occasion Mr. Thomasson repeated his noble conduct ; and, as
jNIr. Cobden's embarrassments continued to increase, a group
of his most intimate friends met together, and subscribed
40,000/. to relieve him from them.
It is painful to dwell on the embarrassments of a distin-
guished man. It is much more painful to do so when there is
nothing connected with them which it is easy to excuse. We
pity a man Avho speculates with his own money, and loses it ;
but we apply a harsher term than pity to him who speculates
with the money of other people. It is perhaps hardly fair to
say that Mr. Cobden speculated with other people's money ;
but he speculated with money liberally subscribed for him by
his friends Avith the express object of permanently relieving
him from pressing embarrassments. We cannot help thinking
that a sensitive man would have regarded money so received
as a trust, and would have invested it in securities which were
beyond suspicion.
In connexion with this unfortunate railway, Mr. Cobden,
in the spring of 1859, made his second journey to America.
Many things happened during his three months' absence from
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohdeii. 81
Englantl. The Parliament of 1857 was dissolved; the second
Derby Ministry broken up ; and he himself was elected for
Rochdale. He arrived in the Mersey on June 29, and found
a letter from Lord Palmerston offering him office in the
Cabinet, and a letter from Lord John Russell telling him that
it was a duty to accept it. Such an offer certainly proved
that the ideas of government Avhicli the ruling classes had
formed had been widely altered in the fourteen years which
had passed since Lord John Russell had thought proper to
offer Mr. Cobden the Vice-Presidency of the Board of Trade.
It was evident that the middle classes, who had been made a
power in the State by the Reform Act of 1832, and who had
been taught by Mr. Cobden in the Corn Law agitation to use
the power Avhich they had acquired, could be no longer ex-
eluded from the Cabinet, if they chose to insist on admission
to it. In 1859, indeed, Mr. Cobden refused Lord Palmerston's
offer ; and we think that he was unquestionably right in doing
so. On all the great questions of public and domestic policy.
Lord Palmerston and he held opinions which were not merely
opposite but irreconcilable. No advantage could have ensued
from their meeting in the same council chamber.
Though, however, Mr. Cobden declined to accept Lord
Palmei'ston's offer, he was destined to perform an important
service for the Administration. In the summer of 1859 a
casual expression of Mr. Bright's, suggesting a commercial
treaty with France, attracted the attention of a distinguished
French economist, M. Chevalier. It so happened that M.
'Chevalier shortly afterwards paid a visit to Mr. Cobden,
v/ith whom he Avas on terms of close intimacy.* M. Chevalier
urged Mr. Cobden to follow up the hint which Mr. Bright
liad given, and to seize the opportunity of converting no less a
personage than the Emperor himself to the policy of Free Trade.
^Ir. Cobden, in his turn, paying a visit to Hawarden, talked
the matter over with Mr. Gladstone. Neither he nor Mr.
Gladstone overlooked the obvious economical objections to any
■commercial treaty. But neither Mr. Gladstone nor he ^ could
* resist the force of jM. Chevalier's emphatic assurance ' that
the French Tariff could only be altered ' through a diplomatic
^' act.' Free Trade could oialy be secured by bargaining ; and
Mr. Cobden and Mr. Gladstone were accordingly willing to
bargain for the purpose.
We have no space to detail the arguments by which I\Ir.
Mr. Cobden published his translation of M. Chevalier's ' Essay on
Gold ' in 185'J
VOL. CLY. NO. CCCXYII
82 The Life of Mr. Cohden. Jan.
Cobden converted the French Government, or rather the
French Emperor, to Free Trade.* M. Magne, the Finance
Minister, frightened the Emperor by declaring that every piece
of foreign manufacture admitted into France would displace a
piece of domestic fabrication. Mr. Cobden reassured him by
telling him that ' nearly a fourth of his subjects did not Avear
* stockings, and that, if a few thousand dozen of hose were
' admitted into France, they might be consumed by these bare-
* legged people without interfering with the demand for the
* native manufacture.' By such arguments Mr. Cobden made
his way ; and, before the end of January 1860, Avas enabled to
attach his signature to a commercial treaty. But the treaty
only settled principles : the details of the tariff were a matter
of subsequent negotiation. Mr. Cobden undertook the duties
of the chief place on the Commission appointed to settle these
details. The Avoi'k proved difficult and tedious. Many persons
in France, and some persons in England, disliked the negotiation.
On its conclusion, ' The Foreign Office hesitated to accept the
* figures without reference in detail to the Treasury, the
* Customs, and the Board of Trade. . . . The President of the
* Board of Trade was aAvay in his yacht, and no one knew
' Avhere to find him.' Mr. Cobden had reason to be annoyed
with these vexatious delays, which wasted two months of the
autumn of 1860.
The conclusion of the negotiation was immediately succeeded
by another arrangement. Under the influence of Mr. Cobden,
the French Government agree to abolish passports, though
we believe that the attention of the Emperor was first
directed to this matter by Mr. John AValter; and the English
Avere for the first time permitted to enter France AA-ithout
the permission of the French authorities. Mr. Cobden had a
right to expect that the freer intercourse to AA'hich these
reforms would lead AA^ould have the effect of promoting peaceful
relations betAveen France and England. But the hopes Avhich
he formed Avere apparently doomed to disappointment. While
he Avas converting Xapoleon to Free Trade, the Emperor's
plenipotentiaries Avere closing the Italian Avar by the peace
of Zurich ; Avhen the treaty itself Avas ripe for confirmation
by Parliament, the annexation of Savoy irritated and
alarmed the English people ; instead of producing peace and
* There is but one man in the Government, M. Rouher had said
— the Emperor; and but one Avill — that of the Emperor (ii. 254).
Mr. Cobden's negotiation Avas even concealed from M. Walewski, the
Foreign Minister (ib. 252).
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 83
disarmament, the French treaty was accompanied by the fortifi-
cation of our ports, and the formation of our Volunteer Force.
Lord Palmerston thought that Xapolcon had ' a deep and
' inextinguishable desire to humble and punish Eno-land ; '
the English people shared the alarms which the Prime
Minister hardly affected to conceal ; and Mr. Cobden Avas
mortified at perceiving that the labours, which he had trusted
would produce peace and disarmament, were followed by
increased distrust and additional military expenditure. It
never seems to have occurred to him that the Commercial
Treaty might have been a blind to mask the designs of the
Ruler of France.
Mr. Cobden Avas convinced that no real grounds existed for
the panic with which England was agitated. He protested
against it in 1862 in the longest and last of his pamphlets:
' The Three Panics : an Historical Episode.' It was the purpose
of this publication to show that the alarm of French invasion,
which had originated in 1847, which had been renewed in 1853,
and Avhich had recurred in 1860, was groundless ; that the naval
strength of France was habitually exaggerated by English news-
papers and English statesmen ; and that France had neither
the intention nor the means of entering into a great naval
struggle with this country. It Avas time — so Mr. Cobden
concluded — that this rivalry of arms should be succeeded by
some proposal for mutual disarmament. * It must be re-
* membered that such is the immense superiority of our navy
' at the present time — so greatly does it surpass that relative
' strength Avhich it was formerly accustomed to have in com-
' parison with the navy of France — that it devolves on us, as
' a point of honour, to make the first proposal for an attempt
' to put a limit to this most irrational and costly rivalry of
' armaments.' In this, as in many other things, Mr. Cobden
Avas entirely mistaken: the French navy Avas at that time
equal to our OAvn in the number of efficient ships of Avar. Yet
Mr. Cobden actually told the Emperor in 1859 that England
AA^ould soon ha\'e sixty ships of the line in commission !
Mr. Cobden liA^ed for nearly three years after the publica-
tion of this pamphlet. But he did nothing during these years
Avhich requires any pi'otracted notice in these j)ages. He Avas
groAving old, and the infirmities of old age Avere Aveakening his
poAvers. ' My AA^ork,' so he Avrote in 1861, 'is nearly done. I
' am nearly fifty-scA^en, and not of a long-lived family. Since
' I passed my meridian a fcAV years ago, I have found my powers
* sensibly waning, and particularly those organs of the voice
* Avhich I exercised so unduly whilst in their prime.' His
84 The Life of Mr. Cohdcn. Jan.
throat lirid, in fact, never recovered tlie strain to -wliicli he had
exposed it during the Corn Law agitation. At the end of
1864 he made one of his longest speeches to one of the
largest aiuliences Avliich he ever addressed. He confessed, in
his concluding words, that he rose daunted by the fear that
he would not be heard ; he sat down physically exhausted by
the effort which he had made. He came home ' out of order
* from top to toe.' A cold winter retarded his recovery. He
Avas attacked by his old foe (nervous asthma) ; he was pro-
strated by bronchitis ; and at the end of January, though he
had shaken off his active disease, he was weak, and pining for
the sunshine that Avould not come. So little was his real con-
dition known, however, that on the 10th of February Mr.
Gladstone wrote to him offering him an important situation in
the Civil Service — the chairmanship of the Board of Audit.
On the 13th of February Mr. Cobden declined the offer on
the double ground that his health disqualified him for the
post, and that its duties, connected as they were with an ex-
penditure which he disapproved, would be distasteful to him.
A little more than a month afterwards he left home for London,
to take part in a debate on the fortifications of Canada. The
day Avas cold, and on his arrival at his lodgings in Suffolk
Street he Avas seized Avith a fresh attack of asthma. ' He
* lay through the bleak days Avatching the smoke blown from
* the chimneys of the houses opposite, and A'ainly hoping that
* the Avind Avould change its quarter from the merciless east.'
But the Avind did not change ; the asthma grew Avorse ; bron-
chitis supervened ; and on the morning of Sunday, April 2,
Mr. Cobden passed aAvay.
Having thus sketched Mr. Cobden's career, Ave must attempt
in the little space that is left to us to pass judgment on his
character and policy. And, in doing so, no fair critic aa'IU
overlook the many amiable qualities Avhich he displayed as
son, brother, husband, father, and friend. INIr. Bright spoke
of him in the House of C'ommons as ' the manliest and gentlest
* spirit that ever tenanted a human form ; ' and there are many
passages in Mr. Morley's book Avhich illustrate Mr. Bright's
Avarm panegyric. It is, hoAvever, Avith Mr. Cobden's public
character — not his private virtues — that Ave are at present
concerned. And, in dealing Avith his public career, tAvo qualities
especially arrest our attention. The first is the amazing
industry Avith Avhich he acquired information ; the second, the
extraordinary clearness Avith Avhich he made a difficult subject
]dain. The extent of his information Avas always remarkable.
It perhaps attracted most notice in his agricultural speeches.
I
1882. The Life of Mr. Cobden. 85
Confident ccuntiy gentlemen imagined that they could
easily expose the ignorance of the Manchester Cotton Spinner
— as they inaccurately called him — who had the presumption
to come and talk about farming to their tenants. They soon
found that Mr. Cobden knew much more about agriculture
than they did themselves. In every instance they were fairly
beaten by him on their own ground.
It is one thing to possess information ; it is another to use it.
Mr. Cobden had a greater capacity of using his facts than any
man of his time. It is a commonplace to say that his speeches
were perspicuous ; but they were perspicuous because they
teemed with the right facts in the right places. Mr. Morley
tells lis, on the authority of ' many scores of Conservatives and
' Liberals,' that persuasiveness was the secret of Mr. Cobden's
oratorical success. It is Avith some hesitation that we dissent
from the conclusion of many scores of authorities, but we think
that persuasion is a Avrong epithet to apply to Mr. Cobden's
power. Persuasion (says Johnson) seems rather applicable
to the passions, and argument to the reason. It was the
striking characteristic of Mr. Cobden that he almost uniformly
appealed to the reason and not to the passions. He did not
persuade men ; he convinced them.
It Avas Mr. Cobden's lot to do the chief work of his life by
speech and not by pen ; and his speeches Avill perhaps be read
Avhen his writings arc forgotten. Yet it may be doubted
whether nature intended him for a speaker. He was de-
ficient in the imagination which is essential in the orator.
Almost the last Avords Avhich he uttered in public Avere, * I
' never perorate ; ' and he not only abstained from perora-
tion, he never indulged in the higher flights of eloquence. It
Avould be untrue of him to say, as Macaulay said of Sir James
Mackintosh, that he spoke essays : but it is true that his
speeches are deficient in some of the qualities Avhich Ave have
been taught to expect in oratory. No such defect can be
found in his best Avritings. They have all the vigour, the
clearness, and the fulness of his speeches, and a purity of
style which is their OAvn, And so, though his chief Avork was
done by his tongue, Ave are inclined to conclude that his pen
Avas his more poAverful instrument.
Extent of information, clearness of intellect, and facility of
expression are gifts Avhich are enjoyed by comparatively few
persons, Mr. Cobden did not unite to them the still rarer capacity
of forecasting the political future. Like most men Avho pursue
a great object with entire singleness of purpose, he saAv that
object and that only ; he exaggerated its importance ; and he
86 The Life of Mr. Cohden. Jan.
Avas incapable of taking that broad view of the policy, the
ambitions, the passions, and the deceptions of the various races
and governments of the Avorld which make up the tangled
skein of politics. He was a great popular leader, but he v/ould
probably have been a dangerous and incompetent Minister. He
was almost always misled by his sanguine temperament. He
declared in 1832 'that if he were stripped naked and turned
* into Lancashire with only his experience for a capital, he
* Avould still make a large fortune.' It is a melancholy com-
mentary on this confident estimate of his own powers that
his failure in business and subsequent investments cost him
three fortunes. He Avas incapable of belie\'ing that any ' SAvan '
of his conception could turn into a ' goose.' The same fatal
self-confidence Avhich induced him to buy building land at
Manchester, on AA^hich for years no one Avished to build, or to
jjurchase Illinois RailAvay shares, followed him into public life.
He was never tired of predicting hoAv the repeal of Protection
in this country would be folloAved by the adoption of Free
Trade in all countries. His sanguine anticipations AA^ere a
source of strength to him at the time. His audiences belicAed
him. But they haA'e seriously, though unjustly, hampered the
cause of Free Trade since. Protectionists have been able
to shoAv that Mr. Cobden's predictions have not been fulfilled,
and they invite us to reject him as a false prophet. They fail
to see that his incapacity to forecast the future does not affect
the A'alidity of his reasoning.
It Avas a graver defect in Mr. Cobden's character that he
was almost uniformly unjust to the men Avith Avhom he happened
to disagree. Special causes, for Avhich the Minister was
himself responsible, ])artly accounted for the antipathy Avhich
he felt toAvards Sir Robert Peel up to 1846. Even at the
close of 1845 he exulted in the fall of the Minister, and
declared that he shoukl forfeit his self-respect if he ever
exchanged a Avord Avith that man in private. The provocation
Avhich Sir Robert Peel had given to Mr. Cobden in 1843,
grave as it Avas, hardly justified such continuous rancour. The
same thing may be said of Mr. Cobden's continuous opposition
to Lord Palmcrston, We agree Avith Mr. Cobden in thinking
IT . . .
that Lord Palraerston carried the principles of iuterA^ention to
a mischievous extreme ; but Avhen Ave find Mr. Cobden Avriting
of the Minister as 'a venerable political sinner' and a ' vene-
' rable ])olitical impostor,' Ave instinctively recollect the many
great services Avhich Lord Palmerston performed, and recoil
against the expressions. In his earlier years Mr. Cobden had
never mixed in any society but that in which he was born.
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohdcn. 87
and he retained through life a morbid dread of the upper
classes. He mentions that when he put on a Avhite cravat to
dine with a Minister, it cost him a pang ; and when his ac-
quaintance wath the aristocracy somewhat increased, he fears
lest his democratic principles should be impaired by the pleasing
manners of his new friends, for, he says, ' they are so easy.'
Such illiberality was quite unworthy of so eminent a man, who
was everywhere received with the respect and cordiality due
to his own merits and simplicity of character.
The same disposition to misjudge men is evident in Mr.
Cobden's estimates of foreign statesmen. Prince Metternich is
* more subtle than profound ; ' Count Xesselrode, like Prince
Metternich, is ' an adept at finesse,' not * a man of genius ; '
M. Guizot, * an intellectual pedant and a moral prude ; '
Louis Philippe, ' a clever actor ; ' M. Thiers, ' a lively little
* man without dignity and with nothing to impress you
^ with a sense of power.' In 1846, 'the young Napoleon is
' evidently a weak fellow, but mild and amiable.' We wonder
whether Mr. Cobden, when he was negotiating with Napo-
leon III. in 1859, recalled the judgment which he had hastily
formed thirteen years before.
The work of Mr. Cobden's life, however, was not aifected
by these drawbacks in his character, and he will be chiefly
recollected hereafter for what he did and not for what he
thought. The work which he either attempted or accomplished
is divisible into two jDortions : First, he sought to alter, and
partly succeeded in modifying, the foreign jiolicy of England;
and, secondly, he popularised and extended Free Trade. He
ftimed, in foreign policy, to keep his country from intervention,
and to supersede war by arbitration. But Mr. Morley justly
says that ' it is impossible to state tlie princijDle of non-inter-
* vention in rational and statesmanlike terms, if it is, under
" all circumstances and without any qualification or limit, to
' preclude an armed protest against intervention by other
* foreign powers,' Even Mr. Cobden himself, it may be sus-
pected, doubted the universal applicability of the creed which
he was continually preaching. He actually complained that
Lord Palmerston had not protested against Kussian interven-
tion in Hungary in 1850. AVhen he read JNIr. Motley's
* Dutch Republic,' he said he felt ' almost ashamed of old
* Queen Bess,' and the ' unvarnished selfishness ' of her policy.
* So far am I from wishing we should be unarmed,' he wrote
in 1860, * I would, if necessary, spend one hundred millions
* sterling to maintain an irresistible superiority over France at
* sea.' Only one legitimate inference can be drawn from such.
88 The lAfe of Mr. CiMen, Jan.
language as this. Armament and intei'ventlon arc at once
reduced by it from questions oi' ])rinciple to questions o-f
expediency and degree. It" JNlr. Cobden would have lielped
the Dutch in the sixteenth century, and have raised a protest
in the cause of" Hungary in the nineteenth century, he Avas
quite right in desiring to maintain British superiority at sea,
but quite wrong in regarding intervention as a wicked and
detestable policy. No doubt, he could show that in particular
instances, in Spain, in Portugal, in Italy, and in Greece, Lord
Palmerston had intervened without any sufficient justification.
But this does not shoAv that intervention is Avrong ; it only
])roves that Lord Palmerston Avas meddlesome ; and, Avith this
limitation, Ave find ourselves agreeing Avith Mr. Cobden and
not Avith Lord Palmerston.
A proposal, Avhich Mr. Cobden made originally in 1849, for
the reference of international disputes to arbitration, Avill sug-
gest to most people very similar reflections. Arbitration, as a
matter of fact, Avas no new expedient. It had been adopted,
before Mr. Cobden i-eached his teens, to settle a disputed
frontier Avith the United States. It Avas again adopted, after
IMr. Cobden's death, to settle another dispute Avitli America.
Arbitration failed in the first of these instances, because the
arbitrator exceeded his literal instructions, and, in consequence,
the Americans refused to accept his award. It succeeded in
the ' Alabama ' question, because the English Government Avas
resolved loyally to carry out the arrangement to Avhich it had
agreed, though at a great sacrifice, not only of money, but
of sound principles of international laAV. Most people Avill,
hoAvever, conclude, from a careful review of the two transac-
tions, and of the other rare cases in Avhich a similar course has
been taken, that arbitration, hoAvever a])j)licable it may be to
certain dis])utes, can never ])rove an effectual remedy in all
international controversies. In the vast mnjority of cases there
Avould be exceeding difficulty in selecting an impartial arbi-
trator: in almost every case there Avould be no means whatever
of enforcing the arbitrator's aAvard. While human nature re-
mains unchanged, Ave fear that any court Avhich has no power
to enforce its decisions is unlikely to prove an efficient tribunal.
Thus arbitration, though it may be useful enough in some did-
putes, Avill never prove universally applicable. It is an expe-
dient for occasional adoption, not a s|)eci(ic for universal use.
It is, however, Avith Free Trade, and not Avith foreign
policy, that Mr. Cobden's name Avill be permanently identified.
In this cause he rendered two very signal services to his
country. AVc, indeed, arc not prepared to regard the French
1882. The Life of Mr. Cobdcn. 89
Treaty of 1860 as an achievement properly comparable with
the repeal of the Corn Laws. Lord Grey, it seems to us, i&
perfectly right in contending that free traders ought to busy
themselves with amending their own tariffs, Avithout concerning
themselves with the affairs of other nations. Such Avas un-
doubtedly the view of Mr. Cobden himself up to 1846 ; and
the suggestion of commercial treaties Avas, at that time, left to
men like Mr. Disraeli, the uncompromising advocate of Pro-
tection. It Avas the failure of Mr. Gobden's predictions Avhich,
in reality, led to the Treaty of 1860; and, as Free Trade in
France could not be secured by a ' logical, orderly, methodical
' process,' Louis Napoleon had a right — avc are expressing
Mr. Cobden's opinion — to cheat the majorities of his Senate
into an honest policy. We are not now concerned Avith dis-
cussing Avhether Mr. Cobden Avas Avrong in this conclusion.
Most statesmen are agreed in thinking him right. But Ave
decline to place the French Treaty in the same category as
the repeal of the Corn LaAvs, or even to believe that its
signature Avas attended Avith all the advantages Avhich most
people imagine. It might be shoAvn that Sir Robert Peel,
Lord Aberdeen, and M. Guizot Avere all of opinion that it is
Aviser to reduce import duties by internal legislation than by
foreign treaties, Avhich are always regarded Avith more or less
suspicion.
In fact, the great principle on AAdiich Free Trade proceeds is
opposed to arrangements of this character. The free trader
makes it his object to remove every import duty Avhich has
been directly imposed, or Avhich indirectly serA^es as a protec-
tion to any industry. He affords the consumer the opportunity
of purchasing the commodities Avhich he requires in the
cheapest market. Pie alleges that the consumer can only pay
for these commodities either by exporting other produce, or by
doing Avork, such as carrying goods at sea for foreign cus-
tomers, or out of the interest due to him on capital Avhich be
has lent to the foreigner. The increase of a nation's imports
must, therefore, be attended by an increase of its exports,
an increase of its carrying trade, or an increased em])loyment
of its capital abroad, or by some or all of these conditions : and
it is a much Aviser thing for the nation to leave each capitalist
to determine Avhether he Avill invest his money abroad, or in
ships, or in factories at home, than to persuade him to iuA^est
it in factories by negotiating treaties for securing a market for
their produce.
If, hoAvever, it is desirable that the consumer should have
the opportunity of purchasing every commodity in the cheapest
90 The Life of Mr. CoJxlm. Jan.
market, it is essential that he should be able to obtain his food
as cheaply as possible. The vice of the old system was that,
in good years, the farmers produced more corn than they could
sell, while in bad years they produced too little for the people.
In consequence, the food of the poor fell and rose in price
almost with every rise and fall of the barometer ; in the four
years ending 1842, wheat stood at an average price of 3Z. 4s. Id.
a quarter; in the four years ending 1846, it fell to an average
price of 2/. \\s. 6d. a quarter. AVith one solitary exception,
when the outbreak of tiie Crimean AVar in reality gave an
indirect protection to agriculture, wheat has in no one year
reached the average price at which it stood from 1838 to 1842 ;
the f)eople of this country have never since experienced the
suffering which they passed through in those four years.
It is the ordinary custom of free traders to point to the vast
increase both of our export and import trade as the strongest
proof of the Avisdom of the policy which Mr. Cobden advocated,
and which Sir Robert Peel adopted. We refrain from adopt-
ing this course in this article for two reasons. In the first
place, all that it can be necessary to say on such a subject was
said in the last number of this Journal; and, in the next
place, the politician Avho denies that the expansion of trade is,
in the main, due to Free Trade, must be wilfully blind to the
teachings of statistics. We prefer, therefore, to dwell on the
improvement Avhich free trade in coni has eifected in the con-
dition of the people ; and we do so, first, because this part of
the subject has attracted less notice ,; and, second, because
Mr. Cobden, free trader as he was, chiefly aimed at free trade
in food. Perhaps many persons have not reflected on the
exact effect of a tax on bread on the people. Assuming that
every member of a working man's family eats one quarter of
wheat a year, and that each working man's family consists of
five members, every addition of a shilling to the price of wheat
imposes a taxation of five shillings a year on the working man ;
a rise of five shillings in the price of Avheat is eqiuvalent to a
tax of twenty-five shillings; or, if the working man's Avages be
one pound a week, to a tax of about two and a half per cent, on
his wages, or an income tax of six[)ence in the pound. To the
agricultural labourer, Avhose wages do not amount to a pound
a week, the rise in price constitutes a still heavier tax. We
commend these figures to the Conservative statesmen who
are dallying with Fair Trade, and to our Conservative con-
temporary, Avho desires to reconstruct the Conservative party
by giving representation to the colonies, and by imposing a
duty on corn. Hopeless indeed must be the state of British
1882. The Life of Mr. Cohden. 91
agriculture, if it cannot be renovated without practically im-
posing an income tax of more than sixpence in the pound on
the unfortunate agricultural labourer.
We do not, of course, pretend that the terrible distress of
1838 to 1842 was occasioned by dear corn. But it was un-
doubtedly aggravated by the high j^rice of food. We have
lately been experiencing a long depression of trade, Avhich has
been accompanied with bad weather and agricultural depres-
sion. The condition of the last few years has been in many
respects similar to that of 1838 to 1842. The one striking
dissimilarity between the two epochs is the existence of a Corn
Law in the former period and the absence of a Corn Law now.
It is worth while noticing the different effects on the people.
In 1842, out of a population of about 16,000,000, there Avere
1,429,000 paupers in England and Wales. In 1881 the people
had grown to 26,000,000, but there were only 803,000 paupers.
In 1842 one person in every eleven, in 1881 only one person
out of every thirty-tAvo, was a pauper. We are far from con-
tending that this vast improvement in the condition of the
people is solely due to cheap food. But, just as Ave think that
Free Trade has been the chief cause of our expanded com-
merce, so Ave believe that cheap food has been the main cause
of the greater prosperity of the people.
This great boon — cheap food — a grateful people will always
associate Avith Mr. Cobden's name. He AA^as not the first
■worker in the field. He Avas not the only orator Avho con-
verted a people. Mr. Villiers, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Bright, Mr.
Fox, and a host of others took their part in the fray, and it
would be ungrateful to forget the services which they rendered.
But it was Mr. Cobden Avho made the chief impression on the
nation, because he succeeded in placing his arguments before
the people in a manner Avhich they could understand. As Sir
Eobert Peel said, ' The name Avhich ought to be associated
' Avith ' free trade in corn ' is the name of one Avho, acting from
* pure and disinterested motives, has, Avith untiring energy,
' made appeals to our reason, and has enforced those appeals
' Avith an eloquence the more to be admired because it Avas
* unaffected and unadorned : the name Avhich ought to be
" chiefly associated Avith the success of those measures is the
' name of Richard Cobden.'
92 • E cctro-Mtice Puirer, Jan.
Art. IV. — 1. Electric Transmission of Power: its Present.
Position and Advantages. By Paget Higgs, LL.D., D.Sc.
London : 1879.
2. Elect/ ic Railicays, and Transmission of Poicer bij Electricifi;,
By Alexander Siemens. Journal of the Society of
Arts, vol. xxix. London: 188L
3. The Future Development of Electrical Appliances. By
Prof. John Perry, B.E. Assoc, M.LC.E. Journal of
the Society of Arts, vol. xxix. London: 1881.
4. Some of the Developments of Mechanical Engineering during
the last Half-Century. By Sir Frederick Bramwell,
V.P. Inst. C.E., F.R.S. Report of the British Association
for the Advancement of Science. London: 188L
5. Utilisation des Forces na.turelles par CElectricite. Par
Dr. A. d'Arsonval, Preparateur au College de France.
' Revue Scientifique de la France et de I'Etranger,' vol.
xxvlii. Paris: 1881.
/"^ reat progjress has recently been made in that branch of
^-^ the mechanician's art which aims at the production of
a mechanical effect by means of the electric current. It
must not, however, be conceived that the capacity of elec-
tricity to be applied in this manner is by any means a newly
discovered faculty of this versatile agent. The Avord ' electri-
' city,' as is well knoAvn, has come to us from the ' elektron,'
or amber, which was found to exert a motor influence upon light
bodies by Thales and his contemporaries. Dr. Gilbert, the
physician of Queen Elizabeth, was still speculating about
these mysterious movements some twenty-one centuries after
Thales had completed his work. Robert Boyle, one of the
first council of the Royal Society, supposed that an invisible
glutinous substance came out of resins and glass when they
were rubbed, seized hold of any light bodies which chanced
to be within its reach, and then carried them with it back
mto the natural lurking-place or lair from Avhich it had issued.
In all these early experiments, as well as in the similar more
recent ones in which pith-balls Averc made to dance under a
tumbler, paper figures to leap uj) and down between flat plates
of brass, and bent wires to whirl round and round upon a
balancing point, the bodies acted upon were very light, and no
important attempt was at any time made to turn the move-
ment to practical account. The self-same power was, never-
1882. Elcch'o-Mutlve Power. 93
theless, operative in those pigmy effects, which is now
beoinning to strike with the arm of the giant.
It is generally held that the first practical step made
towards the application of electrical force to useful mechanical
purposes was the memorable experiment of Faraday in 1830,
by which he showed how a magnet could be caused to produce
an electrical current in a contiguous strand of copper wire. In
regard to this interesting experiment, however, the same state-
ment may be made. The movement Avhich Avas jiroduced was
of the slightest character— a very light needle of steel, deli-
cately suspended by means of a thread, was set swinginjr.
The experiment was substantially of this nature : A copper
wire, six or seven hundred feet long, was coiled round a
hollow bobbin of wood, and then fixed upright upon a beard
so that a bar-magnet could be dropped from above into the
hollow of the coil, or be raised out of it at will, and the two
free ends of the wire were arranged a little distance off upon
the table into a smaller horizontal coil, which had a balanced
compass-needle, suspended by a silk filament immediately
above it. The suspended needle, as a matter of course,
assumed to itself the ordinary functions of a compass, and
directed itself so that one pole pointed towards the north
part of the horizon, and then remained quietly at rest under
the steadying action of the earth's magnetism; that is, so long
as the large bar-magnet was not brought into play. When,
however, one end of the bar-magnet was dropped into the
coil, the suspended magnet, hung up above the small horizontal
coil, was jerked round upon its centre of support ; and when
the bar-magnet was drawn out of the large vertical coil it Avas
jerked round again in the opposite direction. In order to
acquire a clear idea of the great fundamental principle that is
involved in the production of mechanical movement by the
agency of electricity, no better illustration could be selected
than this primary, and now Avorld-famous, experiment of
Faraday's. It is, therefore, desirable to examine it more
closely.
If any enquirer will be at the trouble to repeat this beauti-
ful and all-important experiment, or Avill go and look on Avhere
he dan see it performed, he will be struck by the cii'cumstance
that not only does the small suspended magnet remain at rest
in the direction of north and south Avhen there is no large bar-
magnet in the vertical coil, but it is also immovably at rest
when the bar-magnet is left standing quietly within the coil.
It is not the vertical magnet jier se, therefore, that produces
the disturbance or oscillation in the small suspended needle.
94 FAcctro- Motive Poiccr. Jan.
It is the mcvcnicnt of the vertical bar-magnet wlilch produces
the movement of the suspended needle. The suspended
needle swings only when the bar-magnet is dropped into the
coil, or when it is lifted out. This, then, brings into con-
spicuous prominence a great scientific fact which Avill be found,
indeed, to be really at the bottom of the so-called production
of movement by electrical means. The electrical current, in
whatever way it is evolved, does not cause the movement
which is observed as the final effect of the operation ; it is not
the primary source of that movement; it is only the means of
its transmission from the place Avhere it originates to the place
where it takes effect ; and the essential peculiarity wdiich dis-
tinguishes the case from the more simple processes of the
mechanical transmission of an impulse is that it is a conversion
as well as a transmission of force. The mechanical impulse
is first transmuted into an electrical current, and the electrical
current is then ultimately, and with more or less completeness,
as M'ill presently have to be observed, turned back into me-
chanical effort when the produced movement is set up. The
muscular effort of the operator's arm by Avhich the bar-magnet
is lifted or dropped is absolutely and essentially transfor)ned
into the propagation of an electrical effort, or, in other words,
into an electrical current alon^ the wire, and is then chanii-ed
back into a mechanical swing where the suspended needle
hangs. It is the movement of the arm Avhich, as a matter of
fact, ultimately pushes round the traversing needle ; the in-
tervening wire merely serves as the channel through which
the effective push is conveyed. If the experiment were so
arranged as that the suspended needle Avere too ponderous and
massive to be moved by the strength of a human arm, it Avould
certainly be found that the disturbance, or change of position,
could not be set up by any current that the human arm could
start. In reference to Faraday's experiment it will, therefore,
be understood that it Avas really a part of the movement of his
arm used in lifting or dropping the bar-magnet Avhich Avas re-
produced in the swinging of the small horizontal needle. His
arm drove round the small needle, although it used the instru-
mentality of an intervening electrical current in doing so, just
as it might have used the instrumentality of a coherent strino-
for the purpose. It Avill presently appear hoAV important it is
to a thorough comprehension of the matter under revicAv that
this bearing of the case shall be mentally grasped. It is ob-
viously the one Avhich has influenced Dr. Paget Higgs in
selecting the title Avhich he has adopted for his l)ook, namely,
the * Electrical Transmission of PoAver.' In this Dr. Hiiro's
1882. Electro-Motive Poiver. 95
recognises the fact that in the application of electricity to
pnrposes of mechanical work the cnrrent transmits an impulse
■which it has itself received. It does not in strict accuracy
produce the movement, it only passes on the primary impulse.
Since it is the movement of the bar-magnet which, in Fara-
day's experiment, produces the electric current in the associated
coil of copper wire, it is manifest that if any continuous or
quickly repeated current is to be established, the bar-magnet
must be as continuously or as frequently thrust to and fro. It
must be incessantly jerked up and down, out from and into
the coil ; or, what will come to the same thing, one of its ends
or poles must be jerked back^vards and forwards across the to]>
of the coil. The actual thrust of the bar into the hollow centre
of the coil only increases the intensity of each single movement.
Indeed, within two years of the time of Faraday's discovery
of the induction of an electric current by the movement of a
magnet, an instrument-maker of Paris, M. Pixii, had adopted
this very plan for the construction of a magneto-electrical
machine of considerable power. He used a horseshoe-magnet
mounted vertically upon its loop or curve in such a way that
it could be caused to revolve, in an upright position, round
and round ; and he placed two copper coils, each embracing
a bar of soft iron standing vertically above the horseshoe-
magnet, Avith the lower end of each iixed just above where the
poles of the horseshoe would pass. The horseshoe-magnet Avas
driven rapidly round by a pair of bevelled toothed wheels worked
by a handle, and, as it turned, each pole in succession swept
past the bottom end of the wire coil, which was practically
very much the same as waving it to and fro in the manner just
now suggested. With each passage of the magnet immediately
under the coil, a current in it was produced ; and as with the
passage in rapid succession of the opposite poles of the horse-
shoe, north and south, reversed currents were produced in the
coil, a contrivance termed a commutator was devised, which
enabled the traversing currents to be alternately shunted, so
that each followed each in the same direction through that
portion of the wire which lay beyond the commutating appa-
ratus. A very serviceable current was procui-ed from this
most ingenious instrument, which was employed for various
experimental purposes. The Pixii machine Avas thus virtually
the prime ancestor of the large generation of machines for the
so-called conversion of electrical currents into mechanical
poAver which have since been brought into existence.
The most important steps in the subsequent improvement of
the apparatus were, first, that a pair of electro-magnets Avith
96 Electro- Mot ice Power. Jan.
their engirdling coils were }nade to revolve in close appositi(Mi
to a suitably-fixed permanent magnet ; and then that a consider-
able number of electro-magnets, fixed upon the circumference
of two circular bronze plates, were driven, the one following
the other, in rapid succession between the poles of two larg('
permanent magnets. Saxton and Clarke introduced the first
of these modifications, and M. Alfred Niaiidet the second. In
Niaudet's machine tAvelvc coils, the wires in which were all
•continuous, travelled between the poles of horseshoe-magnets.
The Alliance machine constructed by M. Nollet at Brussels,
and memorable as being the first magneto-electric machine
that was used to produce illumination in a lighthouse, was an
■extension of the Niaudet plan. In it six bronze discs, each
■carrying sixteen coils or bobbins upon its circumference, Averc
driven round by steam-power in front of the poles of fifty-six
horseshoe-magnets set radially outside of the discs.
This machine of M. Xollet suggests that, as soon as powerful
gteam-eno-ines are used to o-ive movement to the sreneratino;
-coils, it becomes obvious at a glance that the whole affair is one
•of the transmission, and not of the production, of power. The;
real source of the power is then manifestl}^ the combustion of
-coal in the furnace of the steam-engine ; and in every case the
mechanical work done by the electric current issuing from the
<:oils must of necessity be less than that which the steam-
engine could have more directly accomplished without the in-
tervention of the current. There is, unavoidably, absorption
and loss of power in the setting up of the current. The trans-
mission of power is accomplished at the cost of a certain
amount of dissipation and waste of the primary energy. The
case is then quite analogous to the one furnished in another
■field of operation when a lump of cold iron is hammered upon
"the anvil by the steam-hammer until it is raised to a white
heat. A part of the force Avhich came out of the heat of the
feirnace goes back into heat in the hammered metal, but it is
only a fractional part of the original energy. Another part
manifests itself as scintillating light, and another part is dis-
sipated and lost altogether to observation. Exactly in the
•same way, when a part of the heat extracted out of burning
•coal is converted into a brilliant light between the points of
•carbon in the most ordinary process of electrical illumination,
another very considerable part is dissipated in transmuting
^keat-vibrations into electrical commotion and in getting that
electrical commotion transmitted along the conducting wire.
• In the year 1854 Messrs. Siemens and Halske, of Berlin,
datroducctl an important revolution in the construction of mag-
1882. Electro-Motive Power. 97
neto-electric machines, which carried with it material advan-
tages in the particulars both of compactness and power. They
found that even augmented currents could be produced when
the coils of copper wire were turned lengthwise over and under
the revolving axis, instead of being bound spirally across iso-
lated bobbins or cores, and so arranged as to be transported
bodily past the stationary magnets. This was managed by
the simple device of grooving a channel throughout the entire
length of the iron axis, into Avhich the wire could be led from
end to end, and round and round ; the coil, Avith its iron core,
was then a kind of long spindle, which could be twirled upon
its ends as a pencil may be rolled lengthwise between the
fingers. This modification of construction involves, however,
the consideration of what is termed the ' magnetic field ' — a con-
ception Avhich really means that electric currents are set up in
coils of copper wire, not only when these are carried bodily
past magnets, but also Avhenever they are moved, even in the
slightest degree, within the range of the magnet's influence.
The magnetic power extends some little distance away from the
poles of a magnet, becoming rapidly less and less with the
augmentation of distance. The sphere to which this emitted
influence extends is the space which is spoken of as the ' mag-
^ netic field.' When coils of copper wire are merely moved in
the close neighbourhood of a magnet, an electric current is
produced with each movement of the magnet, running in one
direction when the movement is towards the centre of magnetic
force, and in the opposite direction when the movement is the
other way. When the elongated coil of the Siemens instru-
ment is made to twirl upon its ends bet^veen the poles of a
horseshoe-magnet, this augmentation and diminution of mao;-
netic effect are brought into play as each half of the coil goes
round, first approaching towards, and then receding from,
either pole. The whirling of the elongated wire coil between
the poles of the magnet keeps up a constant vibi'atory disturb-
ance in the wire, Avhich issues in currents setting alternately
in opposite directions in the coil ; but which can be switched
by the usual operation of the commutator, so that they reinforce
instead of neutralising each other, and so become a continuous
stream of electrical influence.
The Hanoverian fraternity of engineers which bears the
well-known name of Siemens has, however, been fortunate
enough to add to this happy piece of instrumental contrivance
a yet more impox'tant device, which has now to be spoken of
in some little detail, because it has already become what may
perhaps be not unfairly termed the chief hope in the applica-
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. H
98 Electro- Motive Poioer. Jan.
tion of electricity to motor purposes. Several brothers of this
distinguished and gifted family are known as inventors or as
skilful engineers, and are connected with one or other of three
crreat telegraph engineering Avoi'ks situated respectively at
Berlin, St. Petersburg, and London. The most famous in
this fraternity are Werner Siemens, of Berlin, and William
Siemens, of London, whose face is so constantly seen at the
evening meetings of the scientific societies during their winter
o-atherings in the metropolis. It would require more time and
opportunity than we have at our command to relate all that
these remarkable men have accomplished in connexion with
scientific discovery, such as the galvanic process for silver-
ing and gilding, anastatic printing, the insulation of telegraph
wires by gutta-percha, the construction of submarine mines
for purposes of warfare, the laying of underground telegraph
cables, the block-system of signalling upon railways, the
adoption of porcelain insulators for telegraph wires, the re-
generative gas-furnace used for the manufacture of steel and
glass, the regenerative gas-burner, the construction of the
telegraph-cable ship ' Faraday,' and, finally, the erection of
the first electric raihvay. Dr. William Siemens is also, it wnll
be remembered, at this time the President elect for the next
meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of
Science. It was in his address as President of the Iron and
Steel Institute, in 1877, that he availed himself of the oppor-
tunity to speak confidently of the near approach of the time
when motor power would be transmitted by means of the
electric current, and to express his conviction that a three-
inch rod of copper might be made to carry the energy of one
thousand horse-power to a distance of thirty miles from any
large waterfall or other natural source of moving impulse.
The particular discovery to which this incidental digression
is intended to lead was announced by Werner Siemens in the
proceedings of the Royal Society in 1867. It is the all-im-
portant fact that in the construction of current-generating
electro-magnetic machines the employment of permanent
magnets may be altogether dispensed with. Sir Charles
AVheatstone and Mr. Varley appear to have shared to some
extent in the honour of this discovery, but to Werner Siemens
the merit of its large application in the construction of
generating instruments undoubtedly belongs. The plan
adopted in the first instance in carrying out this improvement
consisted in using bars of soft iron in the ]ilace of the external
steel magnets, and enclosing these within the folds of the
same copper wire that Avas used in the longitudinal revolving
1882. Electro- Motive Power. 99
coil, so that the instant any current began to move in the wire
the soft iron bars became magnets. Theoretically it requires
that there shall be some lurking taint of magnetism in the
iron to start the action ; and this there always is after it has
once been magnetised, because a residual trace of the mag-
netic condition is then very obstinately retained. But, prac-
tically, even this is not indispensable, because, as the earth
itself, upon whose surface the operation is conducted, is a vast
magnet, all bai'S of soft iron are sympathetically turned into
magnets by the inductive influence of the terrestrial mass.
The portion of the soft iron which is accidentally most directed
towards the north becomes the south pole of an induced
magnet, and that which is directed most tOAvards the south is
turned into a north pole ; and this occurs with sufficient in-
tensity, slight as the action virtually is, for all practical
purposes connected with the operation of the machine.
The peculiar circumstance which renders this plan of pro-
cedure a more advantageous one than the earlier method in
which permanent magnets were used, is the singularly sur-
prising and interesting fact that the currents and the magnets
continually rouse and reinforce each other, and that this
accumulative influence goes on until a very high degree of
energy has been developed. As soon as the revolutions of the
machine are commenced, the slight lurking trace of magnetism
that hangs in the iron bars starts a faint electrical current in
the moving coils. But the current thus started in its turn
increases the strength of the magnet. The stronger magnet
then plays its part in producing more current, and the aug-
mented current yet again sets up more magnetism ; and this
goes on, as the speed of the machine is raised, until a certain
maximum of power is produced, which is only reached Avhen the
full capacity of the iron to be magnetically disturbed has been
attained. The earlier form of the machine in which permanent
magnets were used, it will be observed, does not admit of very
high exaltation in this way. The magnetism in it is a fixed
quantity not augmented by any increase in the speed of the
machine. It is, in some measure, a drawback to the operation
of the electro-magnetic machine that it has to expend a certain
portion of its available current force in converting the soft
iron into the magnetic state, and that the current itself is
therefore not started in the coils with so low a rate of revolu-
tion as it is when the permanent magnets are adopted ; but
this, on the other hand, is very much more than compensated
for by the mutual action and reaction of the current and the
magnetism. Up to a certain point, with the electro-magnetic
100 Electro- Motive Power. Jan.
machine, increase of velocity from this cause gives increase of
power in proportion to tlie square of the speed, whereas, in
the machines Avith permanent magnets, the increase of power
is very nearly in the direct ratio of the speed. When once
the full saturation of the soft iron with the magnetic state has
been brought about with an electro-magnetic machine, increase
of power under further augmentation of velocity of revolution
only takes place in the same ratio as the quickening of the
speed, and exactly as would occur if the soft iron were a per-
manent steel magnet.
When a steam-driven electro-magnetic, or, as it is now,
for distinction's sake, more generally termed, a dynamo-
electric, machine is used for the generation of the electric
light, it is essentially and properly an apparatus for the pro-
duction of movement electrically. The light, where it is
manifested, is due to vibratory perturbation set up in the
molecules of ponderable substance. A gap, or a narrowing of
the channel of electrical transmission, is arranged where the
illumination appears ; increased resistance is offered to the
passage of the current in that narrowed or severed part, and
molecules are thrown into such violent commotion, as the
opposed current overleaps the obstacle, and makes its way
past, that they emit luminous vibrations, and shine under the
intensity of the turmoil. The whirling force derived from the
burning coal and steam, and put primarily into the revolving
coils as movement of masses of ponderable matter, flows
quietly off through the channel of the wire until it comes to
the rapids and rock-encumbered narrows of the course, and it
is then constrained once again to undergo transmutation of
form, and to burst into light. The circumstance which has
enabled power enough to be accumulated for this marvellous
transmutation of mechanical impulse into molecular movement,
or luminous vibration, upon a scale adequate to serviceable
application. Is the 'extension of Faraday's discovery of the
generation of electrical currents by the movements of magnets,
through Siemens' deduction that the intensity of the electrical
effect increases with the square of the velocity when moving
electro-macrnets and coils are so arranged as to act and react
upon each other. It is thus that the development and perfec-
tion of the Siemens dynamo-electric machine, and of the
other steam-driven instruments of the same type, have rendered
practicable the employment of electric power for useful motor
purposes. The progress from the production of molecular
movement, or, in other words, of luminous vibration by trans-
mitted currents of electrical force, to the driving of work-
1882. Electro-Motive Poiver. 101
performing machines by the same agency, is a very simple and
natural step. All that is necessary for the accomplishment of
this purpose is the filling up or bridging over of the chasm in
the conducting wires where the electrical stream Avould be
impeded and vexed into light, and the continuance on of the
quiet and even flow to the place Avhere any desired work has
to be performed, and of the adjustment there of an arrange-
ment of mechanical impedimenta which can be driven by the
stream. The way in which this has been practically carried
out, once again by the ingenuity and skill of Werner Siemens
of Berlin, is nevertheless as remarkable for tlie completeness
of its success as for the simplicity of its method.
When a dynamo-electrical machine is set whirling by steam,
the electrical current flows out from the revolving coils into
the arranged channel for the transmission — the continuous
copper wire, or strand — in the way which has been described.
Now let it be conceived that after this copper wire, or channel
of outflow, has been carried along to some distance, whether of
yards or miles, a second dynamo- electric machine, Avith its
electi'o-magnets and coils, and in all particulars resembling
that which is used for the generation of the current, is intro-
duced into circuit by merely continuing the conducting wire
on into the coils which encircle the electro-magnets, so that
any current which is developed in the first machine may
simultaneously pass on, without any break, through the coils
of a second one. What then must of necessity happen ? The
second instrument will immediately, and as if it were of its
own head, begin to revolve in direct sympathy with the first.
This, it will be understood, is a result that is ascei'tained by
actual experiment. Whenever a second dynamo-electrical
machine is brought into continuous circuit with the first, it
revolves with the first when the coils of that first are set in
motion by steam. The effect, however, is not at all difficult
to be understood, or to be explained : as the current flows
through the coils of the second, or distant, machine, its soft-
iron included bars become magnets, and these magnets react,
as it ■\v«re retroflectively, upon the coils, setting them
whirling round and round. The magnets are made and un-
made by the successive breaks and re-establishments of the
current. But, with each break and re-establishment, their
polarities are reversed, and with each reversal of the polarity
they act in a different way upon the contiguous coil. So that,
under the double action, first of the push and then of the pull,
the coil is urged continuously on in its forward roll. This all
takes place under the influence of a well-known physical law
102 Electro-Mutive Power. Jan.
which is found in operation in various forms, and which is not
unfrcqueutly spoken of as the reversibility of action.* It is a
similar effect to that which is seen in the store battery of
M. Faure,t in which lead is fii-st converted to the state of
a red oxide by the absorption of an electric current from an
outside source, and in which the red oxide is then reduced
back into lead with a return of the current in the opposite
direction. In the case of the dynamo-electric machines, the
revolution of a machine, in a quite analogous way, first sets up
a current, and the current then flows out, and, under the
reversal of the action, establishes revolving movement in a
second machine. J In this very simple way, then, the current
which has issued from the primary machine is once again
brought back into the original state of mechanical impulse, or
machine-actuating force, and the movement set up in the
revolviug coils can be forthwith, and as a matter of course,
communicated in any of the ordinary and well-known mechani-
cal ways, to saw-mills, or scAving-machines, or any other kind
of mechanical contrivance, that it may be desired to set in
operation. In the first instance, the connexion of the coils
with the work Avas simply made by a belt and drum. But
more recently other expedients, such as bevelled and toothed
wheels, and spiral springs, have been employed.
There is one very complete and interesting way in which
it may be at once demonstrated that, in these applications of
the electrical force to motor purposes, the case is actually a
conversion of current into movement. It is quite easy, by
means of the suitable arrangement of a galvanometer placed
near the transmitting wire, to ascertain the amount of electrical
current that is passing through the wire at any instant. ]S"ow
if, while a dynamo-electric machine is in fulf work communi-
cating movement to attached pieces of apparatus, that move-
ment is suddenly stopped by the application of some suflficiently
* Or 'action and reaction.'
t See Edinburgh Keview, No. cccxv. p. 2G7.
t It must be here borne in mind that the second machine is in all
particulars an exact repetition of the first. It has its commutator for
collecting the current, and Avhich, in the case of its being used to
receive, instead of to generate, so operates, under the circumstance of
reversal of action, as to break up a continuous current, if it be such
that it receives, into an intermitting and alternating one. A continuous
ciu-rent from a generating machine produces an interrupted current in
a receiymg one, in every sense adapted for establishing the alternating
magnetic polarities Avhich have been alluded to in the text as the
source of its acquired driving power.
1882. Electro-Motive Poiver. 103
powerful bar, or check, it will be found that the amount of
<5urreut passing through the wire is increased, because that
portion of it which was before expended as work is, under the
mew condition, retained circling as electric force. But the
instant the apparatus is again allowed to run on, the current
ialls once more to the lower amount, because a considerable
portion of it is then again transformed from the state of electric
current into movement, and is in that way absorbed. Pre-
•cisely the same thing occurs with the current used for purposes
of telegraphy, as it produces the movements of the magnetic
needle. A part of the energy of the current is expended in
overcoming the resistance which the wire affords to its passage,
and another part is spent in moving the needle ; that is, in
•doing the work for which the apparatus is designed. The
portion of the energy which is used in the work of driving the
needle leaves less energy available for the production of the
•current, and consequently there is less current flowing along
the wire when the needle is moving, than there is when it is at
Test. If a telegraph needle is held firmly at rest when the
-current of the battery is on, there is immediately more current
flowino; through the wire.
The conversion of the current into useful work is not, how-
ever, the only way in which it is expended. There is always
some absorption in waste as well as in work. The friction of
the machinery has to be overcome, since it is made of inert and
ponderable material, and at the same time the electrical dis-
turbance, or state, has to be got through the wire. The
temperature of the transmitting wire is invariably raised to
some extent during the passage of the current. The heat is
_generated out of the current, and is therefore waste, or loss.
It is a portion of the original force put into the primary
anachine by the steam, converted back into heat by the way,
and therefore no longer available at the end of the course for
motor application. It is a necessary consequence of this
waste by the way that it is altogether impossible for the same
amount of force to be given out to machinery moved after the
transmission of the current, as that which is developed in the
primary, or transmitting, machine. The transmission is paid
for, as it were, by a deduction, or transport rate, levied upon
the current.
But in the case of the transmission of power to a secondary
machine, in the way which has been just described, there
is another source of loss that has also to be taken into con-
sideration and allowed for. When the coils in the second
machine are thrown sympathetically into simultaneous revolu-
104 Electro- Motive Power. Jan.
tion Avith those of the primary one, they produce magnetism in
the soft iron bars, and these, reacting by their magnetism*
upon the coils, set up on their own account a current in them.
This current, however, is in the reverse, or retrograde^ direc-
tion, and if it were of the same strength as the primary current,
or forward one, the two W'Ould neutralise each other, and there
would be no current at all available for external work. In the
actual arrangements of the apparatus, the revolution of the
receiving machine is always so regulated as to be less rapid
than that of the issuing one. There is, then, an available
balance, or excess, of the primary current to be used at the
distant end, and after transmission, for work. Some consider-
able part has been neutralised by the weaker return current
thrown back from the receiving machine ; but, over and above
that, there is still a fair amount that can be used for driving
purposes. It has been theoretically assumed, from a considera-
tion of this reflex action, that the machinery is being turned
to the best practical account when the movement of the driving
apparatus is exactly half that of the generating coils, and when
the work done by it is half that which is developed in the
primary machine. If 5-horse power is put into the primary
machine by the immediate application of the expansive energy
of steam, 2i-horse power may be reckoned upon as available
at the driving end. This answers very Avell as an approximate
statement of the case. It is generally held that 45 per cent,
of the original power should be available for work after trans-
mission. Dr. Siemens, however, finds that in favourable cir-
cumstances this is an under-statement of the truth. In alluding
to this point upon a recent public occasion he expressed himself
in the following words : —
' The view that the power to be obtained from a motor machine
cannot exceed one-half that which is communicated to, or developed
in, the generator, is one which is yet much discussed amongst elec-
tricians, and Mr. Alexander Siemens in his paper has consequently
adopted the safer course of rather under than over stating the results
which might be and had been obtained. There is by no means such a
limit as 50 per cent. Experiments of undoubted accuracy have shown
that GO, and even 70, per cent, may in some instances be obtained, and
that the point of maximum effect is not limited to half the volocity,.
although unquestionably there is a limit. If the velocities were equal,
theoretically, the maximum result should be obtained; but the
counter-current produced in that case would be also at a maximum, so
that practically the niaxinnim lies between the two results of half
velocity and equal velocity.'
In the actual use of powerful dynamo-electric machines there
1882. Electro-Motive Power. 105
is one circumstance which is a frequent source of vexatious
loss. When their strength is strained to the utmost by high
velocities, their efficacy in overcoming resistance is apt to be
diminished just at the time when it is most required. The
current has to excite the magnetic power within the coils of
the primary machine before it passes on to drive the machinery
attached at the remote end of the wire. But whenever any
chance increase of resistance is experienced in the external
work, the energy of the current is at once concentrated in
overcoming that difficulty. But this can only be accomplished
by the withdrawal of a corresponding amount of energy from
the task of exciting the magnets, and by a consequent weaken-
ing of the primary power. This practically leads to irregular
work and halting movements. The notorious unsteadiness of
the electric light generated by dynamo-electric machines is due
to this cause. Dr. W. Siemens has found that this source of
iri'egularity may be to a large extent obviated by using two
dynamo-electric machines — one to excite the magnets, and the
other for generating the current ; or, what comes to pretty
much the same thing, by dividing the original current of the
primary machine into two distinct parts, and reserving one of
these parts for the excitation of the magnets, whilst the other
part is transmitted for work. Dr. Siemens drew attention to
this plan of removing the difficulty in a paper which he com-
municated to the Royal Society a few months since ; and, in the
face of what has alread}^ been accomplished, it is scarcely pos-
sible to doubt that this cause of fitful irregularity will ulti-
mately be removed.
Dr. Werner Siemens has undoubtedly been one of the
earliest as well as one of the most sanguine and persistent of
the advocates for the employment of the electric current in
mechanical work. At the Paris International Exhibition of
1867 he spoke of electrical railways as an application of the
power that was certain to be realised, and it is one of the
memorable events of this fruitful age that he has lived to
assist very materially in the fulfilment of his own prophecy.
The application of the powerful currents of the dynamo-electric
machine to railway transport has, indeed, been one of the first
fruits of the improvements so recently effected in instrumental
construction. In the summer of 1879 a working model of an
electric railway was exhibited at Berlin by Messrs. Siemens-
and Halske, and the same model has since been shown at
Dtisseldorf, at Brussels, and in the grounds of the "Crystal
Palace at Sydenham. Short railways upon the same principle
have also been brouo-ht into actual use in Paris and in the
106 Electro-Motive Power. Jan.
neighbourhood of Berlin. In the latter instance the line
which is "worked is a little more than a mile and a half long,
and connects the Lichterfelde station of the Berlin-Anhalt
railway with the Military Academy.
After the remarks which have been made in the preceding
pages, it yviW not be at all difficult to iinderstand how this
notable feat of engineering ingenuity has been accomplished.
A very slight amount of consideration, indeed, in the light of
those remarks, will make it manifest how readily the electro-
motor method of driving machinery adapts itself to railway
transport. It has been seen that a second dynamo-electric
machine, connected with the primary steam-driven one, is
thrown into sympathetic revolution when its coils are placed
in continuous electrical communication Avith the transmitting
wire issuing from the primary coils. Now it has only to be
conceived that the secondary revolving machine is mounted
upon a platform, and furnished with wheels, and that these
wheels are connected by a belt with the axis of the whirling
coils ; and the great principle which underlies this form of the
application of the power will be at once grasped by the mind.
It must also, of course, be implied that rails have been laid
down to carry the wheels. No difficulty whatever is entailed
in the circumstance that the platform carrying the driving
apparatus is itself capable of motion from place to place, be-
cause the effective continuity of the electric current can always
be established and maintained by the contact of the wheels
with the rails. The smooth surface of the external circum-
ference of the Avheels under the pressure of the superimposed
weight makes a close running connexion with the surface of
the rail. The current is sent out from a stationary engine
planted at some convenient spot on the line, and it is dis-
charged to the earth through the wheels of the carriage as these
run along the permanent way, and is so automatically length-
ened or shortened as the carriage runs out from or in towards
the station holding the fixed machine. This is essentially the
plan which has been followed with the experimental circular
railway exhibited at Paris and Sydenham, and also with the
Lichterfelde Kailway, which is in more permanent operation.
The circular railway has a circumferential extent of about 436
yards, and the dynamo-electric driving apparatus is mounted
upon a small car, which acts like the locomotive of an ordinary
railway train, and draws three carriages after it carrying six-
teen persons in each. The current is delivered to the driving
car by a third intermediate I'ail, from which it is taken off for
conveyance to driving coils by means of brushes. It is re-
1882. FAectro- Motive Porver. lO:*
turned to the statlonaiy machine bj the outer rails. The
driving coils exert a pull of about four hundredweights, which
is diminished to from a hundredweight and a half to a himdred-
weight and three-quarters when the carriages are running
along the line, and then amounts to an available power of
three horses. The speed attained under this power is ten
feet per second, or nearly seven miles an hour. In the Lich-
terfelde railway the steam-engine and stationary machine are
placed about a third of a mile from the terminal station, and
the current is conveyed to that station by underground cables.
It is delivered to a passenger car constructed to accommodate
twenty-one persons, and Avhich carries its driving coils beneath
the floor. The current flows into the car by one of the
ordinary rails of the permanent way, is collected from it by
brushes pressing upon a brass ring attached to one of the axles,
and is carried back to the primary machine by the opposite line
of rails. The speed actually attained in this railway is from
nine to twelve and a half miles an hour, the distance of a mile
and a half being run usually in ten minutes. The speed can,
however, be raised at will to twenty-five miles an hour.
Messrs. Siemens consider that the electric form of pro-
pulsion may be advantageously adopted for railways of short
length, and more especially for street traflfic in towns. One
of its great recommendations is that it entirely obviates the
necessity for the employment of heavy locomotives, so that
the permanent way may be of a comparatively light and cheap
character. Suflficient adhesion to the rail for traction under
light weights can be most easily managed by the simple ex-
pedient of causing all the wheels to drive. Another most
important circumstance, which is strongly insisted upon, is the
readiness with which a powerful and efficacious break can be
instantaneously brought into play by merely short circuiting
the driving current upon the wheels of the carriages, and so
transferring its energy from driving to braking purposes. A
very complete and interesting account of the views and aims
of the originators of this electrical railway, prepared by Alex-
ander Siemens, a son of Werner Siemens of Berlin, is given
in one of the papers named at the head of the article. These
gentlemen, after a careful consideration of their various expe-
riments, have come to the conclusion that efficient elevated
railways in the streets of towns, worked by electric power,
and maintaining a speed of eighteen miles an hour, may
be provided at a cost of a trifle less than 12,000Z. a mile, and
that such railways may be calculated to run 200 trains in the
day, with ten carriages in use, accommodating fifteen persons
108 Electro- Motive Puicer. Jan.
in each, at. a cost of eighty-six shillings per mile per day. Dr.
William Siemens himself, upon a recent occasion, urged his
own conviction of the fitness of the electric railway for long
tunnels, and for underground traffic in general, in the following
words : —
' The electric transmission of power would be efficacious, no doubt,
for loc.ll traffic, such as tramways, and also ibr lines conveying
minerals from the interior of a mine to the bank, and in exceptional
cases for the transmission of heavy trains along rails. One of these
cases was presented by the St. Gothard tunnel. The company to
Avhich that belonged were fully alive to all modern improvements, and
liad requested Messrs. Siemens to work out a plan for utilising the
hydraulic power which could be had in great abundance near the mouth
of the tunnel. By the accomplishment of that object very great advan-
tages would be gained ; for, as those who had travelled through the Mont
Cenis tunnel, or through the one on the line between Alessandria and
Genoa, were aware, great inconvenience resulted from the emission of the
products of combustion from the engines daring the transit. If a train
could be sent through this long Alpine tunnel by electric force a great
inconvenience would be saved to the passenger, and at the same time
a great saving would be effected by the company. Nearer home there
v/aa a case which would lend itself admirably to electric transmission —
the Underground District Eailway. All those who were in the habit
of using that railway appreciated the facilities it offered in going to
the City or from it ; but they also felt the inconveniences of the pro-
ducts of combustion choking the atmosphere. Plans had been pro-
posed for more thoroughly ventilating the tunnel, but they were only
palliatives ; the cure would consist in finding a source of power
without the inconvenience of combustion being carried on in the
tunnel. A jilan had been proposed for working the engines by com-
pressed air, and nothing could be said against that, but that it did not
do away with the necessity of having an engine nearly as heavy as
the present locomotive. If electric transmission were tried on that
railway in such a way as to make the rails act as the return con-
ductor, making them all " earth," and fixing guide rails under the roof
for the conveyance of the current, to be taken into each carriage by
means of a metallic rope, great certainty of action would be obtained,
and the trains would be propelled through the tunnel without fear of
their being stopped midway, and at a very economical rate. These
were the features of this innovation : that it lent itself to the convey-
ance of power to any reasonable distance, and that it could be applied
without any of those inconveniencies which now beset oiu* locomotive
traffic'
In a small volume on the ' Electric Transmission of Power,'
recently published, Dr. Paget Higgs has bi-ought together the
chief practical deductions that have been formed by mechanical
engineers in reference to this branch of their work. The subject
is treated in a form that is, perhaps, too technical for the needs
1882. Ekctro-Motice Power. 109
of the general reader. The conclusions at which he has arrived
are, however, not materially different from those which have
been more familiarly expressed in the preceding paragraphs.
He states that 48 per cent, of the power expended in the pro-
duction of the electric current by means of dynamo-electrical
machines may, at the present time, be reclaimed from the
current in the form of useful work, and that this amount of
reclaimed and utilised power is unquestionably more than the
proportion which can be obtained by means of compressed air
or hydraulic pressure. He dwells especially upon the advan-
tageous circumstance that the electric force is more easily^
transmitted to a distance than any other kind of energy,
and that it is so tolerant of change both of direction and
intensity. The conductor employed for the transmission of
the current is also inert, and may be shifted about, and bent
into a new course, even at the very time that it is conveying the
power of a considerable number of horses, without the freedom
of the propagation being in any way interfered with. In a
final summary of what he conceives to be the advantages that
may be looked for from the electrical transmission of power,
the author says : —
' The source of power and the point of reclamation may be relatively
situated most awkwardly, but the electric conductor can be brought
round the sharpest corner, or carried through the most private room,
without inconvenience. There is nothing to burst or give way. The
same circuit which may be tapped to provide the hieans of working
power machinery can be as conveniently tapped to work a sewing-
machine. In mining operations electric transmission Avill doubtless
become of the highest value, since it involves no danger. Machines
for this purpose could be easily constructed without a commutator, so
that sparks would be avoided with only a small loss of power. The
ready portability offers great inducements to the mining engineer. For
ploughing by power, trials made in France shoAv that electricity can
replace steam with advantage and economy, and in Scotland power
obtained from a waterfall has been transmitted one mile and a half.
Dredges could be reduced in size, and worked from a central motor, so
that smaller channels than are now subject to this method could be
cleansed mechanically. In mills and factories, rooms (otherwise)
inaccessible can be utilised for power-worked machinery. These are
but a few of the (possible) advantages. A millennium may be antici-
pated when the water-power of a country shall be available at every
door, for electric-power conductors can be laid in the streets more
easily than gas or water pipes.'
There are few readers at the present day who have not heard
of the waterfall near Sir William Armstrong's residence at
Craigside, incidentally glanced at in this extract, which works
110 Electro-Motive Pomer. Jan.
the sawmill and lights the house three-quarters of a mile
away, or who have not caught some rumour of the future
destiny that is presumed by sanguine enthusiasts to be in
reserve for the now wasted energies of Niagara. The first
idea of the utilisation of water-power upon a large scale by
means of electrical transmission appears to have been suggested
to William Siemens by Niagara itself upon the occasion of his
visit to the mighty cataract a few years since. The notion had
obviously taken definite form in his mind when, in his presi-
dential address to the Iron and Steel Institute in London in
1877, he stated that a copper rod three inches in diameter
could be made to convey one thousand horse-power thirty miles
from a Avaterfall, or other adequate natural source of energy.
This estimate was based upon the assumption, up to that time
generally received, that the resistance of a wire employed in
the transmission of a current of electricity increases in the
same proportion as the length of the conductor, and that, in
order to get the same amount of motor force out of the end of
a conducting wire when its length has been doubled, its
sectional area, or, in other words, its capacity for the transmission
of the current, must be doubled also. But, if this be the case,
the doubling^ of the dimensions of the wire, and the doublino-
of its length at the same time, manifestly imply a fourfold
increase of its weight, and therefore of its cost. The increase
in the cost of an electrical conductor of power is consequently
not in the simple ratio of the addition to its length, but in the
ratio of the square of that addition. This is the chief difficulty
which the advocates of the electrical transmission of motor
power for useful mechanical purposes have had to face. It is
this dread of the vast accumulation of cost with increasing
distance Avhich has given them pause, and it is this difficulty
that at the present time they are straining their ingenuity and
enterprise to the utmost to circumvent. The principal cause of
the loss of power with augmented length is that in transmitting
the current the wire retains a certain, and quite considerable,
amount in its own substance, converting it into heat. This
heat, again, is not only loss, but it is also a further positive
cause of accession of resistance, because hot wires convey the
electric force with less facility than cold ones. Sir William
Thomson has proposed to meet this additional cause of obstruc-
tion by constructing the conductor in the form of a hollow
cylinder, or thin pipe, of copper, which may be kept at a com-
paratively low temperature by injecting a stream of water
through it, and he conceives that Avith this expedient a com-
paratively light tube of metal may be caused to transmit a
1882. Electro-Motive Potcer. Ill
considerably large cliarge of electrical energy for several
hundred miles. There is, however, a yet more radical and
exhaustive mode that has been proposed for dealing witli this
difficulty, which, although trenching somewhat upon the pro-
vince that is generally conceived to concern itself only
with tlie more recondite and technical subtleties of electric
science, may, nevertheless, by a little careful management, be
brought well within the reach of all readers of average intel-
ligence.
The capacity of a wire for the transmission of a current of
electricity depends to a considerable extent, as has been already
said, upon the amount, or quantity, of the current which has to
be conveyed. It is also, however, affected by another condition.
It is influenced by the tension, or intensity, of the current as
well as by its quantity. This difference between the quantity
and intensity of a current appears at first glance to be a some-
what subtle distinction. But it is a distinction which fortu-
nately can, nevertheless, be made plain by an illustration drawn
from another more familiar and more generally understood
branch of mechanics.
The power which can be derived from running water de-
pends, as almost everyone knows, upon two circumstances —
the quantity of the water which flows, and the height from
■ which this runs. The first of these circumstances is aptly
spoken of as the quantity of the water, the second as the
amount of its running force. These two quite distinct elements —
the quantity of a stream, and the amount of its fall — have both
to be taken into consideration in estimating its mechanical
effect, and they are related to each other under the provisions
of a very simple law. The possible work, or, in other words,
potential energy, of one thousand pounds of water falling
through one inch is precisely the same as that of one pound of
water falling through one thousand inches. It consequently
results that if there be head, or fall, enough, a very small
quantity of water may be made to produce a very considerable
mechanical effect ; and if this effect has to be transmitted from
the place where the water is dammed up into a head, to some
more or less distant station where work is to be done, the
transmission may, in such case, be made through a long and
narrow channel without much loss of effect. The capacity
for accomplishing work is, in the circumstance, quite as large
as it would have been if relatively more water had fallen froin
a less height. A very small quantity of water, if it descend
from a sufficiently high level, or head, may thus possess a very
considerable amount of potential energy.
112 Electro- Motive Power. Jan.
Precisely the same condition of affairs presents itself when
streams of electricity are transmitted through conductors.
Those streams may consist of a large quantity of current
flowing, as it were, from a low head, or they may consist of a
small quantity of current running from a high head, and
therefore possessing a high potential force, notwithstanding
the smallness of the quantity. The electrical current is con-
tinually observed" in both these extremes of possible operation.
It is manifested in the low form of intensity and flowing in
large quantity when it is generated in voltaic batteries witli
large plates and few cells ; and it is seen in the condition of
small quantity and high intensity when the bright incandes-
cent spark strikes from the prime conductor of the frictional
electrical machine, and, indeed, also in the flashing of light-
ning, in Avhicli almost incredibly small quantities possess poten-
tial energy enough to burst through an extent of two or three
miles of resisting air. The voltaic current issuing from a
voltaic battery of a small number of cells is like a large stream
of water flowing along a very gentle incline. The electric
spark is like a small quantity of water precipitated suddenly
from a great height.
But in the case of electrical transmission there is yet
another circumstance to be taken into account — the relation,
namely, which the current holds to the great subjacent
reservoir of all electrical action, the earth. It may be so
arranged that there is great tension, or effort to escape into
the earth, even at the time when its transmission as a current
is almost arrested. Thus in the case of an insulated telegraph
wire, some twenty miles long, which is connected at one end
with a signalling battery, the instant the connexion is made
the wire is brought through its whole length into a state of
high electrical tension in comparison with the earth, but there
is no currcTit until it is put to earth at the far end. The
moment this is done, the tension at that end is lowered to the
standard of the earth, and there is accordingly great difference
of tension at the two opposite ends of the wire — a high tension
at the battery end, and a low tension where the contact Avith
earth is made. A current through the wire is therefore imme-
-diately set up, and the case is for the time analogous to that of
a stream of water flowing from a high level to a low one. The
current runs into the wire from the battery, and flows along it
to escape to the earth at the far end. But if at that end the
outlet to the earth is suddenly stopped, the current is arrested,
and the whole wire becomes again filled with a high electrical
tension. In this condition of aff'airs there is comparatively
1882. Electro-Motive Poioer. 113
little difference of tension at the opposite ends of the wire ; but
there is great difference of tension between all parts of the
wire and the earth, or, in other words, a high potential of
energy in the Avire, because wherever it may be tapped it will
be found capable of exerting a great instantaneous force, or
capacity for work, quite analogous to that which is found when
a tap is suddenly opened at the lower end of a pipe which
descends from a high head of water. Whenever the difference
of electrical tension or strain existing in an insulated wire and
the contiguous earth is very great, there will of necessity be
in that wire a high potential or capacity for Avork, and a large
amount of effective force, or work, may be put into it at one
end by a generator, and be taken out of it at the other end by
driving machinery, althovigh the actual transmission of a cur-
rent along the wire is small. When this condition is established,
there is consequently a relatively slight absorption or waste of
energy in the form of heat generated in the wire, even whilst
work is in progress. This, consequently, is the aim which is
kept steadily in view by those bold innovators, the electrical
mechanicians ; namely, to find the means of keeping up a high
potential of energy in a transmitting wire, and to work it with
a relatively small current.
One method by which this object may most reasonably be
pursued immediately suggests itself to the mind of any one
who is at all familiar with the leading principles of electrical
science ; namely, the improving the insulation of the wire so as
to enable a higher potential energy to be generated in it and
retained. The most experienced and competent authorities
who have made a special study of this subject pretty generally
admit that at the present time the waste unavoidably incident
to the transmission of electrical energy is very large. When>
dynamo-electrical machines revolving at high rates of speed
pour the currents which they have generated into copper wires,,
these not only run through those wires, but at the same time
leak out and run to waste at every weak point of the channel
that they can find. But the most sanguine and hopeful of the-
experimenters contend that this imperfection in the conducting
apparatus will assuredly be obviated by improved methods of
procedure. Professor Perry, in alluding to some experiments
of Professor Joule's in his paper ' On the Future Development
' of Electrical Appliances,' says, in reference to this : —
' The facts tell us that in the electrical maciiiaes of the future, and
in their connecting Avires, there will be little heating, and therefore
little loss. We shall, I believe, at no distant date have great central
stations — possibly situated at the bottom of coal-pits-^ where enormous
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. I
114 Electro-Motive Power. Jan.
steam-engines will drive enormous electrical machines. We shall have
wires laid along every street, tapped into every house, as gas-pipes are
at present, and the current will be passed through little electric
machines to drive machinery, to produce ventilation, to replace stoves
and fires, to work apple-parers and mangles and barbers' brushes
among other things, as well as to give light.'
It is the same authority who also remarks, in speaking of
dynamo-electric machines, driven at very high rates of speed : —
' With such machines it Avould be possible to heat, light, and ven-
tilate all the houses in New York, and to give to large and small Avork-
shops the power required to drive their machinery, by means of an
ordinary telegraph wire (but with some exceptionally good method of
insulation), transmitting energy from as great a distance as the Falls
of Niagara.'
These extracts very fairly express and bring into prominent
notice the tAvo expedients which are looked to as the great
hope of the electrical engineers in their present aspirations ;
namely, increased speed in the revolutions of the dynamo-
electric machines, and improved insulation in the conducting
wires through which the resulting currents of electric force are
to be distributed to work. The sul)division of the electric
currents for purposes of mechanical work will no doubt be
found an easier and more practicable task than their sub-
division for purposes of illumination. Still it is by no means
to be overlooked that every step in the subdivision and distri-
bution of the power involves some increase of resistance and
some economical loss. All telegraph engineers are well aware
how disadvantageously the working of a telegraph is affected by
the introduction of additional instruments into the circuit. A
transmission of 250 or 300 words per minute may in this way
be at once rendered impracticable in an entire line which was
just before working easily at this rate at all its stations. The
distribution for mechanical work may nevertheless be econo-
mically effected Avithin a certain limit and range. There seems
to be a general concurrence of opinion amongst electricians
that a single-horse jiower for work may be generated at a
central station where large operations are in progress by an
expenditure of two and a half pounds of coal per hour ; and
that the same amount of power may be developed at a distant
station through the intervention of electrical transmission by
the expenditure of five pounds of coal an hour at the central
station. If this be the case, the method of transmitting poAver
electrically to various secondary and subordinate machines
from one great centre of origin may be admitted to be an eco-
nomical one, as most engineers are aAvare that small steam-
1882. Electro-Motive Poiver. 115
engines can hardly be made to produce a horse-power of motor
energy at so small a consumption of coal as five pounds in the
hour. Mr. Alexander Siemens attaches considerable wel^-ht
to this consideration, and he also thinks tliat this advantage
may be materially increased by setting the primary generator
to charge the secondary batteries of M. Faure at the distant
stations, allowing the final distribution of the power to local
machines to be carried out from those temporary reservoirs,
just as gas is held stored in separate gasometers, and turned
on from them when it is required for detail use. Sir William
Thomson is obviously pursuing the same line of thought when
he suggests that windmills may be used for storing Faure
accumulators. The store battery unmistakeably supplies ex-
actly Avhat the fitful and uncertain character of the wind
requires as the proper compensation for its unreliability. The
chief disadvantage of wind as a source of motor power is that
it blows, and often too violently, when it is not wanted, and
^vhen it is most needed it quite as frequently fails. But this
will not be of any material consequence if the wind can be
bottled up as potential electrical energy when it does blow,
and this energy be then let off in detail, and in regulated
quantities, as it can be turned to account in useful work. The
American form of windmill, with its compact revolving disc in
the place of sails, very cleverly adapts itself to the task of
charging Faure store batteries by means of light dynamo-
electrical machines. With such a system of electrical genera-
tion, it is obvious the need for the transmission of the current
through long, leaking, and therefore wasteful, channels is at
once got rid of.
Whilst alluding to this phase of the subject it is scarcely
possible to omit to remark how singularly the two great dis-
<;overies in the domain of the reversibility of force — the action
and reaction of chemical and electrical energy in the store
battery of M. Faure, and the action and reaction of mechanical
movement and electrical currents in coupled-uj:) dynamo-elec-
trical machines — have conspired together to advance the cause
of the electrical transmission of motor power, and to favour
the utilisation of the vast natural sources of motor energy that
are at all times present in blowing winds and inflowing water.*
* Professor Sylvanus Thompson has recently stated at a meeting of
the Society of Arts that Professor Clerk Maxwell having been asked
shortly before his death what he considered the greatest scientific
discovery of the last twenty-five years, replied : ' The discovery that
' the Gramme (dynamo-electrical) machine is reversible.' Professor
116 Elertro-Motice Poicer. Jan,
Precisely as the store-battery is necessary to render the fitful
impulses of the capricious wind available for steady and reliable
work, so also is it essential for the practical utilisation of such
periodic recurrences as the flowing and ebbing of the tidal
currents of the sea. Sir William Thomson appears to have
been led to cast a longing and loving eve upon windmills
on account of the suspicion that it would not answer to con-
struct basins along the coast for ffeneratino; currents of electri-
city out of the influx and efflux of the tide, because the land,
which might by the same amount of labour be reclaimed from
the dominion of the sea, would have a higher money value for
agricultural purposes than the water-reservoir would have as a
source of motor power. It must be remembered, hoAvevery
that this argument does not at all apply to the various well-
known instances in which vast irreclaimable basins are already
within the dominion of the tide. Thus Professor Sylvanus
Thompson has pointed out that this is essentially the case in
the neighbourhood of Bristol, where he resides. Xature seems
there almost to have taken it in hand to provide beforehand
for the working out of the j^roblem. Professor Thompson
states that the construction of only a few yards of embank-
ment would in that instance provide a tidal basiu with a rise
and fall of twenty-three feet ; and where at the present time
power runs to Avaste every year which would amply suffice, if
converted to mechanical account, to charge ten millions of Faure
batteries, and to raise twenty billions of pounds one foot high.
He calculates that one-tenth part of this power would be quite
enough for the permanent lighting of the city of Bristol. He
further estimates that a fifth part of the tidal flow which
now runs to waste in the channel of the Severn, where the
rise and fall are of a still larger amount, would suffice to light
every city and to turn every loom, spindle, and axle in Great
Britain.* It will be thus seen how even the boldness of the
Thompson adds, oa his own part, that he has no doubt if Professor
Maxwell could be asked at the present time what scientific discoveiy
now stands next in importanco, he would answer, ' Tlie discovery that
the Voltaic battery is reversible.' ' The reversibiHty of the Voltaic
cell instanced in the Faure store-battery is the counterpart and com-
plement of the reversibility of the Gramme machine ; for while tlie
one hag solved for us the problem of the electric transmission of power,
the other has solved for us the problem of tlie electric storage of
energy.'
* Professor Thompson himself suggestively remarks, in reference to
this: ' Accumulators are a necessary feature in any scheme to utilise
'the intermittent force of the tides. Whether the present form will
1882. Electro-Motive Power. 117
idea of utilising the Falls of Niagara is already on the point
of being surpassed hy the aspirations of scientific men. If
this dream of the application of the tidal pulsations of the sea
to the production of mechanical movement through the instru-
mentality of store-batteries and transmitted electrical cur-
rents is ever realised, this indeed Avould be a case of the
conservation of energy upon the most stupendous scale ;
for under such circumstances it Avould be the majestic roll of
the terrestrial globe itself, in its inexorable Avhirl in space,
which would have been harnessed to work the machinery of
man. AVith such a prime dynamo-electrical generator there
would assuredly be no limit to the work which might be per-
formed.
It will be almost unnecessary to draw attention to Mr.
Siemens' remark, that the electrical transmission of power has
no sphere of useful application at sea. The machine-driven
ship of necessity has to carry the whole of its origination of
power within itself. There is no means by which it could be
made to draw its moving force from a remote fixed station
whilst it is ploughing its devious track over the unstable and
wave-encumbered surface of the ocean. Since, then, the prime
generator of its moving power must be carried on board, it is
manifest that it must be more advantageous to apply that
power direct to the paddles or screw, than to transmit it
through the intervention of any secondary contrivance.
At the conclusion of his paper ' On the Transmission of Power
' by Electricity,' Mr. Alexander Siemens, by way of summary,
remarks : —
' From all that has been done during the last few years it is quite
evident that the art of transmitting power by electricity has advanced
rapidly, and that its practical application is continually gaining ground.
This, however, should not be regarded as a sign that the electric trans-
mission of power to a distance will supersede every other system, but
2-ather that there is a sphere for it where it meets existing demands
better than our present means ; and it should, therefore, not be treated
iis an enemy of existing systems, but as a supplement to them, by the
aid of which problems can be solved that could not otherwise be
attempted.'
-' prove adequate for the piu-pose the future must decide. Probably the
•' present accumulator bears as much resemblance to the future accumu-
' lator as a glass bell-jar used in chemical experiments does to the
' gasometer of a City gas-works, or as James Watt's first model steam-
' engine does to the Atlantic steamer. When the practical accumulator
' of the future has been built, it will be piore easy to say what will be
•^ the limit of its applications.'
118 Elcctro-Motivr Pou-cr. Jan.
This, we concelvo, goes to the point which is tlic real prac-
tical bearing of the matter. It is certainly a fact that tliis
new method of applying mechanical power has already shown
itself capable of taking \\\) sundry serviceable tasks in this
supplementary way. Mr. Siemens records how it has beer,
advantageously adopted at the telegraph works at Charlton t<
drive the machinery by which submarine cables are tested, tt
maintain the circulation of water in the core tanks, and t(
haul cables on board the steam-ships prepared to carry them
out to where they are to be finally submerged in the depths ot
the ocean. When set to show experimentally at these work-
what it could do in hoisting dead Aveights, it lifted, by means oi
a crane, one ton twelve feet per minute. At Sermaize-les-
Bains, in the department of Marne, under the directing eye of
M. Felix, it has ploughed land with a double furrow, and
thrashed wheat. In the recent exhibition of electro-motor
a|)pliauces at Paris, it was very conveniently used to work a
lift. Its fitness for driving sawmills, turning lathes, and
working sewing-machines, is now thoroughly established. For
efforts of this character it possesses, indeed, very strongly-
marked capacities. The comparatively small size and light
weight of the apparatus, which alone is required where the
power is put to its work, are strong recommendations to its
adoption. It is really an astonishing spectacle when the
observer looks for the first time at a sawing-machine in vigo-
rous operation Avith no other visible means for the communica-
tion of its moving power than a small bell-wire running down
from the ceiling of the workshop. As Professor Ayrton has
somewhere said, the electrical agent has no weight of its own to
be moved, and no inertia to be overcome. It is an imponderable
sprite. It Avill go round corners without entailing loss or
waste on that account, and it pursues the most tortuous, or
the most direct, paths with utter indifference. Its conducting
and distributing Avires are absolutely free from all risks of
explosion and the concomitant dangers. For these several
reasons, and for the relative simplicity and cheapness of the
mechanism by Avhich it acts, it stands quite Avithout a rival for
the transmission of spontaneous natural force, such as that AA^hich
resides in the bloAving of .the Avind and in the falling of Avater,
to centres of dense social population Avhere it can be con-
veniently and advantageously turned to economical account.
Dr. A. d'Arsonval's paper in the ' Revue Scientifique de la
* France et de I'Etranger,' ' On the Utilisation of Natural Forces
* by Electricity,' is mainly addressed to enforcing the doctrine
that the electric current can be transmitted considerable dis-
1882. Electro-Motive Power. 119
tances for the production of mecliamcal effect without the
necessity of employing large and costly conductors. He sets
himself to prove three all-important propositions. 1st. That
electro-motor power is virtually independent of distance ;
2nd. That the waste due to the heating of a wire in the pro-
cess of transmission can be reduced to any extent that may be
desired ; and 3rd. That conductors of large sectional area are
not necessary. The argument upon which he relies for the
establishing of these propositions is substantially the same as
the one which we have been already examining critically in
these pages. The expedient upon which he relies is the
attempt to raise the potential energy of the force accumulated
within the conducting wire by means of more perfect insula-
tion, so that work can be got out of its distant extremity
without the transmission of any inconveniently large current.
Having been at some pains to demonstrate that the method
(modalite) of electrical induction of power includes within
itself all other methods, whether mechanical, chemical, calorific,
or luminous, he says: —
' In contemplating the matter from this philosophic point of view,
one may say that the laws of evolution govern inorganic matter as
well as living beings. The perpetual effort of nature towards the
best waij is universal, and this applies as much to the forces of nature
as it does to living beings. The thermal form of energy which until
now has ruled over industry as a sovereign mistress is about to dis-
appear, and to yield its place to a more perfect form — electricity.'
In order to show that this is by no means an opinion restricted
to the temperament which is sometimes ascribed to scientific
men on the opposite side of the English Channel, it will be
sufficient to quote one remarkable piece of vaticination which
has recently been used nearer home. Sir Frederick Bramwell,
a Vice-President of the Institute of Civil Engineers in London,
and an authority on engineering prospects, who is by no means
open to the imputation of being prone to a too facile credulity,
in a paper communicated to the Mechanical Section of the
British Association for the Advancement of Science at its
recent session at York, addressed himself to the meeting, in
one memorable passage, in the following words : —
' However much the mechanical section of the British Association
may contemplate with regret even the mere distant prospect of the
steam-engine being a thing of the past, I very much doubt whether
those who meet here fifty years hence will then speak of it as anything
more than a curiosity to be found in a museum.'
But Dr. d'Arsonval does not seem to be inclined altogether
to limit himself within the bounds of even this bold forecast.
120 Electro-Motive Power. Jan.
for, in other scarcely less prominent passages of his paper, he
add5 : —
' But docs nature not hold in reserve yet other forms of energy
more perfect than electricity ? One can scarcely doubt that it does.
My eminent friend Marcel Deprez firmly believes that it is so, and
bases his belief upon reasons of a purely mathematical order. ... It
is but for a very short time that we have known anything of this elec-
trical form of energy, ■which is in act even now of revolutionising the
world. How many other forms, consequently, may there not be actually
in existence, although the imperfection of our senses, or of our means
of observation, renders us unable to make any acquaintance witli
them. . . . However this may be, I have myself that strong faith in
the future that science prepares for us, of wliich Claude Bernard and
Faraday have spoken, and I firmly believe that our ])roper evolution,
like that of ihe entire universe, can only be, as Michelet has said, a
continuous r.scent towards light. ... In conclusion, I will here repeat
that we may now \vith perfect safety burn our last himp of coal, or if
any unfoieseen difficulty rises up in the way, as Ave have yet two
centuries' store of coa!, since our electricians have accomplished what
they have done in less than ten years, we may be quite satisfied with
conceiving what more they will accomplish in two centuries. I am
persuaded that we may remain quite easy as to the destiny that is
reserved for our successors, and that our only regret should be that we
shall not be able to see what they will see.'
We decline to undertake the unpromising task of considering
with Dr. d'Arsonval the forces of nature, which we are ' pre-
* vented from knowing anything about by the imperfection of
' our senses and of our means of observation.' We nevertheless go
with him so far as to share his belief that the ' proper evolution,'
or, in other words, the ordered progress, of human intelligence is
a continuous ascent towards light, and that, in the face of recent
advances that have been made, it may fairly be assumed man
is standing, even now, upon the brink of discoveries in physical
science w^hich will be no whit less marvellous than those Avhich
have already been grasped. It would be presumptuous and
rash, even from the present vantage-ground, to venture any
pi'ognostication as to the exact form those discoveries are likely
to assume, but the direction in wdiich they will lie is obvious
at a glance. It is by means of his deeper insight into the
great fundamental law of the conservation, or indestructibility,
of energy, and of its almost unlimited convertibility to new
modes of operation and to new modifications of form, that man
will continue to advance in his ever-extending dominion over
the forces of nature. The electrical transmission of motor power
under the arrangements and conditions which have been
treated of in this article, will stand in the future clu'onicles of
science as a memorable step in that forward movement.
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 121
Akt. V. — 1. Carthage and the Carthaginians. By R. Bos-
WORTH Smith, M.A. Second edition. London: 1879.
"2. Geschichte der Karthager. Yon Otto Meltzer. Vol. I.
Berlin: 1879.
3. Travels in the Footsteps of Bruce in Algeria and Tunis. By
Lieut.-Colonel R. L. Playfair. London: 1877.
4. The Country of the Moors. A Journey from Tripoli in
Barbary to the City of Kairwau. By Edavard E,ae,
F.R.G.S. London: 1877.
5. En Tunisie. Par Albert de la Berge. Paris: 1881.
6. Algeria, Tunisia e Trlpolitania. Di Attilio Brunialti.
Mi'lano: 1881.
TX/'"hen Cato the Censor flung from the folds of his robe on
the floor of the Roman senate-house figs luscious with
African sunshine, freshly gathered in Zeugitanian gardens, he
■offered, together with an argument for the destruction of Car-
thage, an explanation of her greatness. Her vicinity to
Europe rendered her the rival of Rome, and Rome could not
tolerate a rival within three days' sail of the mouth of the Tiber.
Although geography does not teach us past, any more than it
enables us to predict future history, we cannot fail to perceive
that the configuration of land and water plays an important
part in the development of nations ; and the configuration of
land and water is a patent, and, in the main, unalterable fact,
subject to none of the vicissitudes which beset other sources of
information. Written records are fragile, and subject to per-
version; architectural monuments have perished, or survive
only to perplex ; the savage or ignorant heedlessness of a con-
queror has more than once obliterated from memory the efforts
and the culture of generations ; but the roads and rivers that
traverse seas and oceans are the same now that they were four
thousand years ago ; — -the same currents flow past the same
coasts ; the same winds impede or assist navigation ; the same
islands break the monotony of the waters ; the same rivers
bring down the tribute of the hills to the shore. It is true that
mutual encroachments, slight, yet by no means unimportant,
have locally altered the relations between land and sea ; but
such changes are due to causes easily recognised, or still in
actual operation, and are thus inadequate to efface, while they
help to account for the swerving track pursued from shore to
shore by commerce and empire.
The Mediterranean has an inner as well as an outer thres-
122 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
hold,"^ Across the narrow ocean door of the Straits of
Gibraltar lies a bar rising to Avitliin twenty fathoms of
the surface of the water ; and eight or nine hundred miles
farther to the east, the gap of ninety miles between Europe
and Africa is bridged to the sounding-line by a series of rela-
tively shallow banks, stretching irregularly from the south-
western angle of Sicily to Cape Bon. The great inland sea
is thus seen to consist of two very distinctly separated portions,
of which the inner, or eastern, is both more extensive, more
variously articulated, and the recipient of more considerable
river reinforcements than the outer, or western basin. It was
here, in the farthest corner of the Levant, that a tribe speak-
ing a Semitic tongue closely allied to the Hebrew abandoned
the nomad habits of their ancestors, and, building some huts
beside a creek sheltered by an island breakwater, took to the
sea, and called themselves Sidonians, or ' Fishermen.' This
in all likelihood occurred not far from four thousand years
ago ; but a date, whose probable error is counted by hundreds
of years, must be given and taken with extreme reserve. It
was at any rate a memorable day for humanity when the first
colonising and commercial power Avhich the world had seen
launched its rude craft tentatively on the Mediterranean.!
On that day the arts and culture of the East may be said to
have set out on their journey to the West, and the long pro-
cess to have begun by which the sceptre was transferred from
the primeval ' river kingdoms ' to the republics of the Inland
Sea, and from them passed to the ' ocean empires ' of modern
times 4
The era of exclusive Phoenician sway in the 2Egean began
and ended during the mythical period known in Greek chro-
nology as ' before the Trojan War.' Amongst the exploits
recorded of Minos, the legendary King of Crete, was that of
having cleared the seas of Phoenician and Carian pirates, and a
groundwork of historical truth doubtless underlay the tradition.
A hardy race, settled in a land specially organised, it might
be said, as a nursery of mariners, was not likely to allow the
profits and adventures of seafaring enterprise to remain long-
in the hands of strangers. Pupils became rivals, by an example
frequently repeated, and tolerably certain to recur; and thus
began the long competition between Greek and Phoenician,
* 'Litnen maris interni,' Pliny, 'Nat. Hist.' iii. 1, quoted by Bottger,
*Das Mittelmeer,' p. 116.
t Keniick, 'Phoenicia,' p. 18G.
\ Bottger, ' Das IMittekaeor,' p. 1.
1882. CartluKje and lunis. 123
which, rightly regarded, gives the clue to the memoral)le his-
tory of the greatest of Phoenician colonies. Bloody deeds were
done, we may be sure, upon the high seas, while the issue was
still doubtful, and treacherous reprisals taken ; but the struggle
was conducted by individual initiative, not by national effort.
For the policy of the Phoenicians was essentially of an unheroic
or arithmetical character. They did not fear danger, but they
balanced advantages. They were not cowards, but they were
calculators. When the perils began to outweigh the profits,
they looked elsewhere for a field of commercial activity, where
life premiums, so to speak, were less high. The world was
wide, and for the most part still unexplored; distance Avas
pregnant Avith possibility ; and they knew how to steer their
course across untried waters with the help of the steady pole-
star, long before the Greeks had ceased to look for guidance
to the seven circling lights of the Great Bear. So they quietly
withdrew their settlements from the islands of the Archipelago
before the advancing flood of Doric and Ionic immigratioa,
and turned the goblin figure-heads^ of their penteconters in
quest of a new world of traffic towards the setting sun.
While the Israelites were as yet in the bondage of Egypt,
the Phoenicians had already passed the Straits, and attempted
the navigation of the ocean beyond. This is rendered all but
certain by the mention in the earliest of the Books of Scrip-
ture t of the country known to the Hebrews as ' Tarshish.'
For modern critics are agreed that Tarshish (the Greek ' Tar-
* tessus ') indicates the region of the Guadalquivir, embracing,
in its widest signification, the whole of the modern provinces
of Andalusia and Murcia. It was hence that were derived
the metallic treasures which rendered the Phoenicians the most
opulent amongst the nations of antiquity. The first traders
to these fortunate shores were said to have replaced their
leaden anchors with masses of silver, rather than abandon any
of the precious substance lavishly flung at their feet in ex-
change for cargoes of slight intrinsic value. The valleys of
the Guadiana and Guadalquivir were strewn with nuggets
of silver. The mountains from which these rivers flowed
yielded iron, copper, and lead. Gold, derived from the \yash-
ings of the Tagus, and tin, extracted from the granite of
* Called by the Greeks Patalci (Herodotus, iii. 37), probably from
the name of the Egyptian god Ptah, witli whom the Cabiri, represented
in the grotesque figure-heads of the Phoenician ships, were intimately
connected.
t Gen. X. 4.
124 Cartliuf/e and Tunis. Jan.
Galicia, were brought, by long lines of inland traffic, to the
general mart. The waters Avere hardly less productive than
the land. The purple murex was found on the coast. Fish
of rare quality and extraordinary size were taken outside
the opening of the Sti-aits. Down to the time of Aristophnaes,
' Tartessian eels ' were esteemed a delicacy at Athens, and
the well-known ' Tyrian tunny' had one of the sources of
its supply at Gades.
The Spanish trade thus became the main object of Phoeni-
cian enterprise, and the main source of Phoenician wealth. But
Tartessus Avas not only a goal, but a starting-point. From
Tartessus these hardy navigators reached the shores of Britain
in search of tin, and penetrated the Baltic in search of amber.
From Tartessus they colonised — to the number, as traditionally
reported, of three hundred — the peninsulas and islands in
which Atlas sinks beneath the Atlantic. From Tartessus
they founded Carthage.
The waste by evaporation of the waters of the Mediter-
ranean largely exceeds the supplies brought doAvn by its river-
affluents. Hence, if it were a sea without an outlet, its blue
surface would sink until aqueous expenditure and income were
brought to balance at a considerably lower level. But, since
Calpe and Abyla were set apart by the wrench of the demigod,
the vast stores of the Western Ocean constitute a sum placed,
as it Avere, to its credit, Avhich no extravagance avails to ex-
haust, or even sensibly diminish. The Atlantic is thus a
gigantic tributary of the Mediterranean. A current, setting
steadily through the Straits Avith a velocity of from two to
four, or even five knots an hour, repairs the perpetual ravages
committed by the sun on the great sheet of Avater which forms
the common circulating system of three continents. Noav
the course taken by that current has largely affected the early
history, directly of navigation, and indirectly of colonisation.
Its main branch hugs the North African coast, rushes round
Cape Bon, sweeps across the shallows of the Lesser Syrtis,
pursues Avith slackening speed its Avay toAvards Egypt, spends
its failing poAvers in carrying Nile mud to silt ujj the once
renoAvned harbours of Tyre and Sidon ; then turning Avest-
Avard betAveen Cyprus and the Cilician shore, combines Avith a
minor current setting in from the Black Sea through the
Hellespont and ^Egcan, to form a slight, but sensible drift
back to the point from Avhich it started. This rotatory move-
ment of the INIediterranean Avaters tended, from the earliest
times, to establish, so to speak, a double roadway — a doAvn- as
Avell as an up-line of traffic — betAveen east and Avest. Ships
1882. Carthac/e and Tunis. 125
outward bound from Syria, and even from Egypt, invariably
chose tlie more northerly route ; ships homeward bound from
the Straits, on the contrary, took advantage of the ocean
stream, and skirted the southern edge of the basin. Along
each track communications were maintained, and navigation
px'otected by a chain of Phoenician settlements. By far the
most important of the stations on the down-line was a factory
planted on a hill overlooking a spacious bay, just where the
two great sea-routes most closely approached each other in the
channel dividing the eastern from the western Mediterranean.
It is best to confess at once our total want of absolute
knowledge regarding the time or manner of the foundation of
Carthage. To the task of demonstrating the completeness of
our ignorance on the subject, M. Meltzer has brought learning
and industry uncommon, or common only among German men
of letters ; and although trouble spent on the demolition of the
tales of Carthaginian origin transmitted, and probably in-
vented by the Greeks of Sicily, may savour of ' wasteful and
' ridiculous excess,' the labour was in some sort necessitated
by the grave adoption into history of the Dido legend by an
authority so eminent as M. Movers. All then that modern
criticism allows us to accept as historically certain amounts to
this. When the Greeks, towards the end of the eighth century,
began their eager course of exploration and colonisation in the
West, they found, seated in one of the most commanding posi-
tions in the world, a great commercial emporium, owning
Tyre as its mother city. This much, and no more, we can be
said to knoio ; but something we may be permitted to conjec-
ture. It is tolerably certain, from what is ascertained of their
usual mode of procedure, that the Phoenicians did not allow a
point so vital to their communications as the site of Carthage
to rem^ain unoccupied long after the regular opening of the
Tartessian trade. But this cannot well be placed much lower
than 1500 B.C. Now, at this period, Sidon, called in Scrip-
ture the ' first born ' of Canaan, was the leading city of
Phoenicia. Headers of Homer will remember that her proud
rival Tyre is not so much as mentioned either in the Iliad or
Odyssey, while the riches of Sidon, and the skill of her
metal-workers and embroiderers, are frequently noticed. In-
deed, Mr. Gladstone * has founded on this circumstance a
plausible argument for the high antiquity of the Homeric
poems. For in the course of the thirteenth century B.C.
the conditions of prosperous existence in Sidon were so
* ' Juventus Mimdi,' p. 144.
126 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
seriously com])romised by movements of the Canaanlte popu-
lations, that the pnncij)al Sidonian families migrated to the
' Rock '-city,^ twenty miles farther south, and the ' hegemony '
of the Phoenician state was soon after transferred to Tyre.
Now it seems to us that, notwithstanding its rejection by
M. Meltzer, tAvo circumstances, both of them intrinsic and
undeniable, tell strongly in favour of Movers' theory of a
* double settlement ' at Carthage. The first of these is the
w^orld-famous name by which we recall its former existence.
The Punic form of ' Carthage ' is Karthada, which signifies
* New City ' (Ka7't chaddscht). The appellation is an ordinary
one, and admits, so far as we are aware, but of one inter-
pretation. It implies the revival or extension of an ancient
foundation in a manner so marked and momentous as to
justify its formal commemoration by a change of name. The
second is the order of pi'iority observed at Carthage among the
divinities common to the entire Phoinician race, but pre-
dominantly worshipped severally in the various Phoenician cities.
In Carthage, then, the first place was nominally reserved for the
Sidonian goddess Tanith or Astarte, while the most con-
spicuous honour was paid to Melkarth ('king of the city'),
the hero-god of Tyre. The natural inference seems to be
that a previously established cult was overshadowed, though
not superseded, by the introduction, Avith new colonists, of
new rites. And this ws take to be about as much as can be
known, or rationally surmised, regarding the origin of Rome's
great rival. That, from the earliest times of Phoenician com-
merce with the West, a factory or fort on the site of
Carthage helped to secure the homeward route -along the
Libyan shore, analogy and the nature of the position lead us
to infer ; that the settlers Avho came, in the height of Tyre's
prosperity, to establish a second Tyre in Africa, found in
possession a kindred settlement with which they amalgamated,
and a kindred worship which they adopted, the very name
and form of religion of the ' New City ' itself testify.
For a couple of centuries after her foundation Carthage
led a purely commercial existence, without a history, and
almost without a tradition. Like other Phoenician towns, she
traded, throve, and duly discharged her religious obligations,
offering the first-fruits of her children to the fiery embrace of her
brazen Moloch, and the tithes of her gains at the shrine of the
Tyrian Melkarth. Her merchants had no ambition beyond
* The native name Tsoi' (whence the old Roman Sarra, the Greek
Ti/rus, and the modern So7-) signified a ' rock.'
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 127
that of securing, on the best possible terms, from the tribes of
the interioi', the largest possible supplies of ivory, ostrich
feathers, and leopard or lion skins ; her counsellors had no
cares more weighty than were occasioned to them by some
turmoil of the populace, or some dispute Avith the Maxitanian
chief to whom Carthage humbly paid rent for the ground she
stood upon. But while they chaffered and grew rich without
a thought of, or, as it might have seemed, a concern in, the
shiftings of the great world's politics, events were silently
preparing for them a destiny equally beyond their desires and
beyond their deserts. The causes which conspired to ' thrust
' greatness ' upon Carthage were, in the main, two. The
first Avas the decline of Tyre under the baleful shadow of the
later Assyrian monarchy ; the second was the rise of Greek
power in the western Mediterranean.
The settlement of the earliest Greek colony in Sicily pre-
ceded by only fourteen years the siege of Tyre by Shalnia-
neser. King of Assyria, in 721 B.C. ; and while the first event
marked the dawning of an epoch of growth, the second marked
the opening of a period of decay. Sicily held at that time
with regard to Tyre the same position that Egypt now holds
with regard to England ; it was the half-way house on the
road to her most prized possession, to permit a hostile occu-
pation of which implied the abdication of imperial existence.
Nevertheless, Tyre stood by, inert or helpless, while Sicily
became rapidly Hellenised. After the Phoenician manner,
which was to retire until compelled to stand at bay, the out-
lying and undefended settlements were quietly abandoned,
and the Phoenician forces concentrated in three towns situated
in the western extremity of the island. On the fate of those
three towns hung the fortunes of the entire Phoenician race
in the Mediterranean. By themselves they were helpless to
withstand the ardour of the Greek advance ; Tyre was distant,
and, as it seemed, indifferent ; but close at hand, across a neck
of the sea which only Phoenician triremes and penteconters had
hitherto ventured to traverse, lay Carthage, already the first
of Libyan cities, powerful by her riches, still more powerful
by her unmatched position. '^On the protection of Carthage,
accordingly, the towns of Panormus (Palermo), Soloeis, and
Motye threw themselves.
From this event M. Meltzer dates the beginning of Car-
thaginian history. All previous to it is local and obscure, if
not pitch-dark. In the crepuscular period which follows,
larger interests are seen to be at Avork, and larger struggles
are discerned to be in progress. A momentous historical mis-
128 Cartkofje and Tunis. Jan.
sion had, in fact, been tacitly assumed by Carthage, and in the
assumption of that mission lay the secret of her greatness and
the root of her misfortunes. The danger was pressing. The
alternative offered to the Phoenicians of the West was annihi-
lation or union. They were menaced equally by land and sea.
The barbarian natives of the countries in Avhich their colonies
formed so many foci of culture and commerce were, in the
best of times, with difficulty held at bay : left to their own
resources by the paralysis of the mother city, they must with-
out fail have been successively effaced from existence, should
the element of their mutual communication and separate
activity fall under hostile control. This fate actually befell
a multitude of Phoenician settlements on the Atlantic, and
most probably also on the Celto-Iberian shores. But for the
attitude assumed by Carthage, it must have become the
general lot.
The fundamental problem presented to us by Carthaginian
history consists in the striking difference between her pur-
poses and modes of action, and those of other communities of
the same stock. Carthage alone pursued an imperial policy —
a policy selfish, cruel, and exclusive, but one in its main lines
inspired by public spirit, and directed toAvards public utility.
In no other kindred city did the instinct of political life mani-
fest itself Dependence was to the Phoenicians an evil only in
so far as it involved the payment of tribute or the restriction of
trade. Possessions were valued by them only because they
ensured custom and enhanced profits. Even Tyre, although
holding a great colonial empire, held it for purely mercantile
purposes, and with purely mercantile results. By Carthage
these were indeed pursued Avith no less keenness and unscru-
pulousness, but they were also transcended by a certain im-
perial instinct, Avhich lent an ideal value to national sway.
Thus, Avhen Carthage succeeded to Tyre as metropolis of the
western Phoenicians, she did far more than fill the vacant
place. She initiated a national organisation, infused into it
the energy of a new spirit, and stood out as leader of a truly
national movement.
The first step in what we may call the public life of Car-
thage was the seizure of the little island of Ebusus (Ivi9a),
whose noble harboiu' formed the indispensable resort of ad-
venturers in Iberian Avaters. This was in or about 654 B.C.,
and Ave can scarcelj' err in sui)posing that from this time Car-
thaginian trade besan to find access to the rich Tartessian
regions from which it had been heretofore excluded by the
jealousy of the mother city. But the struggle for naval su-
1882. Carthar/e and Tunis. 129
premacy developed its full fury only in the ensiiiug century.
It opened formally Avith the foundation of Marseilles, which,
it is significantly related, was not effected without a prelimi-
nary encounter between the strongly armed Phocrean pente-
conters and the Carthaginian fleet. Only the salient points
in the contest are now discernible to us, and those dimly ;
but we are Avell assured that wild work went on during those
long decades, of which the only authentic records lie buried
beneath the sunny Mediterranean waves. War, piracy, and
commerce formed a triple alliance, and made common cause
in violence and rapine. The Avestern Phoenicians once more
justified the interpretation of * men of blood,' put upon their
name by one of the naive etymologies current in early times.
But the Carthaginians did not fight alone. They were as
skilful in securing confederates as apt in turning their ser-
vices to account, and Etruria bore the brunt of more than one
naval engagement, of which the ultimate advantage accrued
exclusively to Carthage.
From the confusion of the first half of the century emerged
an ordered system of treaty engagements, remarkable not only
for the sagacity by which they were dictated, but for the
fidelity with which they were observed. With the Greeks
of Cyrene on the one side, and of Massilia on the other,
boundary lines Avere agreed upon, Avithin Avhich rights Avere
alloAved and incursions prohibited. Care, then the chiet
commercial tOAvn of Etruria, granted facilities for trade as
liberally as she did assistance in Avar, and the stipulations of
the treaty contracted in 508 B.C. Avith Rome, as head of the
Latin league, afford singular proofs of the Avatchfulness with
AA'hich traffic Avas guarded, and the violence by Avhich it Avas
accompanied at that period. The results of the long struggle
in AA'hich Carthage had been engaged are legibly written in
these documents. They shoAV her in a condition, not indeed
of unabated triumph, but of large and increasing prosperity.
Something of Avhat she aimed at she had been obliged to
forego, but the vital points had been secured, and a poAverfuI
organisation completed. The Avestern Mediterranean had not
become a Carthaginian lake ; Massilians, Tyrrhenians, and
Latins had all their appointed districts or prescribed rights ;
but the great reo-ion leading to the Straits Avas reserved exclu-
sively for Carthage. Beyond the Fair Promontory (Cape
Farina) on the coast of Africa, and the promontory of Diana
(C. de la Nao) on the coast of Spain, no foreign craft Avas,
under any pretence, alloAved to sail. The penalty for infringe-
ments of this laAv of navigation was well knoAvn and ruthlessly
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. K
130 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
exacted. No demand for adjudication Avas made in Admiralty
or other courts ; no appeal was permitted ; the ship's cre^v
was straightway flung into the sea, and the ship's cargo landed
in the most convenient Carthaginian port. A typical case is
that of the Phoiuician captain, who, finding his track from
Gades towards the Tin Islands dogged by a Roman trader,
deliberately steered for some dangerous shallows, where he
had the satisfaction of seeing the spy-ship perish^ while his
own lighter vessel escaped in safety. For tliis effort of patrio-
tism he claimed and received a recompense from the state.
The last qnarter of the seventh century B.C. was mai'ked l)y the
activity of one of the great men whom it is the sole survivino-
glory of the Carthaginian aristocracy to have produced.
Mago has been termed the * founder of the Carthaginian
* Empire,' but his work was in truth of a more arduous, if less
brilliant kind. He Avas a statesman, not a hero or a conqueror.
His task was to organise victory, not to snatch it. Resources
accumulated by past efforts were, by his ordering genius,
made available for future triumphs, and fresh sources of
power developed, effective, indeed, for immediate action, though
pregnant with ultimate ruin. To Carthage under the guidance
of Mago might be applied the apophthegm used to describe
the state of affairs in France at a not remote conjuncture by
her present First Minister : ' The period of danger has passed ;
' that of difficulty has begun.' But difficulties lead back to
dangers, as Avell as are developed out of them, and the dangers
which lend fortitude to youth prove fatal in decrepitude. The
use of mercenary troops introduced (as it would seem) by Mao-o
enormously increased the extent, but undermined the stability,
of the Carthaginian power. Armies which could be mul-
tiplied indefinitely, by raising the tribute of subject towns or
doubling the rents of Libyan cultivators, were likely to be led
recklessly or even sacrificed treacherously. Accordingly Car-
thage found, to her cost, that in no market open to her could
fidelity be purchased or patriotism hired.
The actual territory of the Carthaginian state never ex-
tended beyond the limits of the present Regency of Tunis ;
but this represented a very small fraction of the Carthaginian
empire. The African dependencies of the great Phoenician
colony reached, at the opening of the First Punic AVar, from
the Altars of the Philmni, on the Greater Syrtis, to Soloeis
(nowMogador),on the Atlantic ; that is to say, the Liby-Phoeni-
cian towns subject to her covered the shores of the modern
Tunis and Algeria, with by far the larger part of Morocco and
Tripoli. In Sardinia and Corsica Carthage had troublesome
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 131
neighbours in the unsubdued tribes of the interior of those
islands, but no rivals for the command of their ports and fish-
ing-stations. In Sicily the Greeks maintained themselves
with waning vigour along a belt of territory lying far within
their former frontier. In Spain Carthaginian sway stretched
from the sacred headland (Cape St. Vincent) to the Promon-
tory of Diana, and was later, by the great Hamilcar Barca
and Hasdrubalj his son-in-laW;, extended and compacted so as
to include the whole of the vast district lying south of the
Tagus on the one side, and of the Ebro on the other. In
population and wealth Carthage far surpassed her formidable
antagonist of the Seven Hills. Scarcely less than a million *
of inhabitants dwelt within the strongly fortified peninsula,
twenty-three miles in circumference, which was covered by
the gorgeous public buildings, the lofty dwellings, the sub-
urban villas, gardens, pleasure-grounds, and sepulchres of
ancient Carthage. Her command of money was practically
unlimited. Carthaginian citizens paid no direct taxes, but
heavy customs and tolls were levied on their extensive com-
merce ; the riches of the Spanish mines belonged by right
exclusively to the state ; the agricultural population within
the immediate dominion of Carthage contributed a quarter, or
even one-half, the produce of a soil at that time in high culti-
vation and of unsurpassed fertility ; and the prodigious amount
of the gross tribute wrung from dependent towns may be
remotely estimated from the fact that Lesser Leptis alone was
mulcted in a sum of a talent a day, or, in round numbers,
90,000Z. a year of our present money.f Now, of these depen-
dent towns (which were kept purposely defenceless), no less
than two hundred in the neighbourhood of Carthage are re-
ported to have submitted to the Sicilian tyrant Agathocles
during his adventurous raid into Africa (310-306 B.C.). We
hardly dare guess at the total number included in the Liby-
Phoenician fringe to the ' dark continent,' from beyond the
Pillars of Hercules to the borders of Cyrenaica. Moreover,
the wealth of Carthage was rendered available by its skilful
distribution. Alone among the states of antiquity she pos-
sessed some acquaintance with economic jorinciples, and, in her
system of nominal currency (literally leather-monej) and
foreign loans, anticipated the financial expedients of later times.
* The population, at the time of the final siege, when presumably
much reduced by precedent calamities, amoimted to 700,000,
t Mommsen's ' History of Eome,' vol. ii. p. 10 (Dickson's trans-
lation).
132 Carthage and Tunis. Jau.
For an account of the struggle in which this great, and in
some respects unique, ])olitical organisation was annihilated,
we refer our readers to Mr. Bosworth Smith's agreeable narra-
tive in the work cited at the head of this article. We have
preferred to dwell upon its growth rather than exhibit its
action, because in the former direction the book just mentioned
strikes us as deficient in fulness and precision. Mr. Bos-
worth Smith evidently rejoices more in navigating the
broad streams of history than in tracing the obscure springs
which contribute to swell its current, forming, in this respect,
a curious and instructive contrast to his German fellow-labourer
in the same field. Mr. Bosworth Smith has written a book
to be read rather than referred to ; M. Meltzer has written a
book to be referred to rather than read. Each class of work
has its place and its purpose. It is for the advantage alike of
history and literature that both should exist.
After all, the moral of the tale of Carthage's desolation
appears to be that she fell because she deserved her fall. She
fell because she refused to recognise the fundamental claims of
humanity — because she exacted rights, and repudiated duties
which are the complement of rights. She fell because she
oppressed her subjects, ground down or enslaved the peaceful
cultivators of her soil, cheated and betrayed her armies, dis-
trusted and abandoned her champions. Her religion was cruel
and degrading, her institutions aimed at the extinction alike
of public virtue and individual freedom, her internal govern-
ment was narrow and malignant, her external policy time-
serving and arrogant. Confronted ^^dth Rome, she fell because
she anticipated Rome in tyranny and corruption. She had, more-
over, committed the inexpiable crime of having inspired her
haughty rival with fears for her own safety. Had Hannibal
never crossed the Alps, her humiliation might have sufficed ; her
annihilation was the penalty exacted for Cannas and Thrasy-
mene.
Carthage presents the solitary example known to history of
a great city raised from total destruction to a splendour com-
parable with that of its previous condition. Tliree times the
Romans, in defiance of the maledictions pronounced by Scipio,
attempted to colonise the spot. A settlement of 6,000 poor
citizens, planted there by Caius Gracchus, twenty-four years
after the catastrophe of 146 B.C., left behind, in the name
' Junonia,' only a shadowy title of abortive gi'catness. The
project Avas revived by Ca3sar, but interrupted, with others
beyond recall, by the sword of Brutus. An effort to carry it
thought, made by Augustus in 44 B.C., proved futile; but a
1882, Carthage and Tunis. 133
second experienced more fiivourable conditions, and in 29 B.C.
Roman Carthage was definitively founded.
Its existence was a prolonged and brilliant one. For seven
centuries and a quarter it continued to be the capital, and
lisually the seat of government, of Roman Africa. Hardly
venturing to aspire to the second place, it yet disdained to be
counted as third among the cities of the empire. Its famous
ports were re-excavated, and were thronged wdth a numerous
shipping. Temples, the relics of whose magnificence still
adorn the churches and palaces of Spain and Italy, rose on the
old sites. Its halls and porticoes were decorated with mosaics
of graceful design and brilliant colouring. Crowds of eager
learners filled its schools of rhetoric and philosophy. The
* bread and games' of the rulers of the world were alike
supplied by the territory of which it was the centre ; for the
granaries of Ostia w^ere stocked with grain grown on the
fertile plains of the Bagradas, and the savage spectacles of
the Colosseum Avere furnished by bears and lions snared in the
deserts of Numidia.
The name of Genseric, according to Gibbon, has deserved,
in the fall of the Roman Empire, ' an equal rank with the
* names of Alaric and Attila.' And his destructive agency
was, by a vicissitude of fortune as singular as it seemed im-
probable, exercised from Carthage. It was not till ten years
after the Vandal king had transferred, on the invitation of the
unstable Boniface, his fifty thousand yellow-haired warriors
from Spain to Africa, that he gained possession of that great
capital. This was effected by a treacherous surprise, October
19, 439, and was followed by the systematic plunder, enforced
by torture, and aggravated by enslavement or exile, of the
Roman inhabitants both of the city and its surrounding pro-
vince. Religious persecution added to the devastating effects
of barbarian pillage. The churches were forcibly transferred
from the Catholic to the Arian worship, and the passions of
the tyrant did not always suffer him to adhere to the policy of
abstention from the 'making of martyrs,' which his cold-
blooded prudence dictated. The command of the ports of
Carthage and Bizerta opened to his maleficent ambition a new
field of activity and destruction. His adventurous followers
soon acquired all the accomplishments of practised corsairs, and
his pirate fleets swept the Mediterranean amid the unresisting
terror of the dwellers on its shores. The Vandal pilots had
orders to steer for ' the land that lay under the wrath of God,'
leaving it to the winds to shape the corresponding course ; and
the Vandal crews never failed to justify the ominous direction.
134 Cartha(je and Tunis. Jan.
At length the turn of Rome herself came. On one of the
longest clays of the year 455, the dreaded Vandal ships entered
the Tiber, summoned to avenge, by a public catastrophe, the
private griefs of the unwilling wife of Maximus. The ensuing
sack was reckoned by the poets of the time as a Fourth Punic
War, in which Genseric redressed the wrongs, six centuries
old, inflicted by Africanus.* But the parallel was, in truth,
more rhetorical than instructive. The events compared had
no fundamental resemblance. One was a thieving raid, the
other was a national assassination. One was a casual, though
poignant insult, the other was the closing scene of a duel u
outrance.
It was reserved for Belisarius to stamp out the Vandal
plague by the dethronement of Gelimer and the capture of
Carthage in 533, when the whole of Roman Africa was nomi-
nally incorporated with the Eastern Empire. Svibstantially,
however, Byzantine authority scarcely extended beyond the
regions near the coast ; farther inland, it had power to devas-
tate, but not to govern. Those of the Vandals who escaped
the sword fled to the mountains, where the blue eyes and
fair hair sporadically appearing amongst the natives still
perhaps testify to descent from the northern adventurers.
Three times the skirts of the Saracen storm-cloud swept
across Africa before it finally enveloped it. The first to con-
ceive the bold idea of extending the boundaries of Islam to
the Atlantic Avas a man of genius, but of genius tainted -with
the blind fury of his country and his sect. In the design of
the foundation of Kairewan, Okba ibn-Nafi showed himself a
statesman ; in the mode of its execution, a fanatic. He
saw that a permanent conquest must be based on some form
of compact with the indigenous populations, whose numbers,
inflammable passions, and command of an inaccessible country
rendered tliem antagonists difficult to meet, and impossible to
subdue. He saw, moreover, that the new province must have
a fixed point by Avhich to hold and from which to advance, and
it suited his genius and his means better to build a new city
than to capture an old one. Kairewan was accordingly founded
(as its name imports) to be a central ' encampment ' or ' settle-
* ment ' of the conquerors in the West — an encampment situ-
ated at a safe distance from the sea, Avhere the Byzantines
were still formidable, and in the midst of the restless tribes,
whom it was desired to conciliate or overawe. But the Berbers
proved equally inaccessible to friendship and fear. After
* Hodgkin, 'Italy and her Invaders/ vol. ii. p. 255.
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 135
having triumphantly penetrated to the Atlantic, where, in an
outburst of probably genuine, but dramatically displayed
enthusiasm, he urged his horse breast-high into the waves,
declaring, with uplifted hands, that their irresistible flow alone
set limits to his zeal for the propagation of the faith of Islam,
Okba fell in battle with the natives, leaving his infant capital
to become the prey of the victors.
This Avas in 683 ; ten years later, Hassan ibn-Noman
marched, with 40,000 men, direct from Egypt upon Carthage.
The Greek garrison was defeated ; the Greek notables fled ; a
scarcely resisted assault admitted the invaders from the desert
to the city, whose long history they were about to terminate.
A respite was, however, effected, but a brief one. The Patri-
cian John raised an army and equipped a fleet at Constan-
tinople ; a Berber heroine, called the ' Kahina ' or sorceress,
headed a fierce and destructive insurrection in the mountainous
province of Constantine. Both enterprises were, for the
moment, successful. The Arabs were overthrown and driven
back to Barca ; the Byzantines took triumphant possession of
Carthage. Four years elapsed before Hassan had gathered
forces sufficient for another advance ; and doubly defeated
before, he was doubly victorious now. The Berber chief-
tainess was slain in a pitched battle ; the Greek patrician
decamped with his armament by night, having vainly tried his
fortune in the field. This time Hassan deliberately perfected
the work which he had before hastily attempted. The second
destruction of Carthage (698 A.D.), if not so theatrically
executed, proved more lasting than the first. Time, which
had brilliantly repaired the one catastrophe, served but to
aggravate and complete the other. When Edrisi, the Arab
geographer, wrote in the middle of the twelfth century, the
only remains of habitation on the once populous site were
found in the paltry village of Moalka, where the gigantic
range of cisterns which formerly held the main water supply
of the city still afford shelter for their families, and stabling
for their beasts, to a sordid crowd of Arab squatters. At that
time, however, the arcades of a magnificent amphitheatre rose
in six tiers amidst fields now covered with barley, vetches,
and lentils ; and an ample harvest rewarded yet for many cen-
turies the labours of excavators eager for booty and reckless of
havoc. The many-coloured marbles which formed the splendour
of Koman Carthage may now be seen decorating buildings so
various in plan and purpose as the Mezquita of Cordoba, the
Palazzo Doria at Genoa, the Cathedral of Pisa, and the
mosques and dwelling-houses of Tunis. Carthage has, in fact.
136 CartJuifje and Tunis. Jan.
served, during eleven Inmdred years, as a vast quarry, in wliich
builders — Frank, Arab, and Turk — bave found materials of
rare quality ready to tbeir band. Tbe celebrated traveller,
James Bruce of Kinnaird, sums up in tbe following brief
note the relics still visible in 1765 : —
' "\Ye passed ancient Carthage, of ■\vliicli little remains but tbe cisterns,
the aqueduct, and a magnificent iliglit of steps ' (now disappeared)
'■ up to the Temple of ^sculapius, and arrived at Tunis. In rowing
over the bay you see a great number of pillars and buildings yet on
foot, so that the sea has been concerned in the destruction of Carthage.'
Tbe above extract is taken from a book of singular interest,
tbougb necessarily limited circulation, tbe title of wbicb we
bave placed in tbe heading of this article. Its author. Colonel
Playfair, found himself, after tbe lapse of a century, the suc-
cessor of Bruce in tbe office of British Consul-General in
Algeria. Long familiar Avith the countries explored by the
' great father of African travel,' he sought for some account
of bis voj^ages in the Barbary States less unsatisfactory than
that prefixed to the first volume of bis travels, "with a zeal
which deserved and eventually obtained success. After many
fruitless searches, be applied to Lady Tlmrlow, great-great-
granddaughter of the traveller, and heiress of Kinnaird, and
was overjoyed at tbe amount and value of the materials placed
in his bands and at his discretion. Of these tbe most impor-
tant consisted in a vast mass of drawings, amongst which were
' more than a hundred sheets, some bavino: desio-ns on both
* sides, completely illustrating all the principal subjects of
' arcbjeological interest in North Africa from Algiers to the
' Pentapolis, and executed in a style which an architectural
* artist of the present day could hardly excel.' * Colonel Play-
fair immediately appreciated the excellence of all, and per-
ceived the accuracy of many, of these productions. Some,
however, be was unable to identify, because the structures
represented by them no longer existed ; others, because they
Avere unknown to him, especially such as Avere situated in the
Regency of Tunis ; and it Avas to remedy this latter deficiency
that he undertook his * Travels in the Footsteps of Bruce.'
The result is before us in a splendid volume, enriched Avitb
facsimiles of many of the draAvings in question (whose detailed
fidelity Avas photographically tested and proved by Lord
Kingston, Colonel Playfair's sole travelling companion), and
containing tbe original rough notes of Bruce's daily progress
* * Travels in the Footsteps of Bruce,' p. 2.
1882. Carthage and Tunis, 137
and adventures. Its main contents, however, and those which
at present chiefly concern us, are composed of Colonel
Playfair's personal observations in a country which, after cen-
turies of submersion in the muddy waters of barbarism, has
once more unexpectedly risen to the surface of European
politics. We revejt to the subject of Carthage's remains to
extract from his pages a description of the noble monument
which now forms the most prominent memorial of Carthage's
ancient glory : —
' Shortly after leaving the Mohammedia ' (a dismantled palace in the
neighbourhood of Tunis) ' the ruins of the ancient aqueduct come in sight,
and at a distance of about fourteen miles from Tunis the road crosses
the Oued Melian, the Catada of Ptolemy. Here is seen, in all its sur-
passing beauty, one of the greatest Avorks the Romans ever executed in
North Africa, the aqueduct conveying the waters of Zaghouan and
Djougar to Carthage.
' During all the time that Carthage remained an independent state,
the inhabitants seem to have contented themselves with rain water
caught, and stored in reservoirs, both from the roofs of houses and from
paved squares and streets. Thirty years after the destruction of this
city by Scipio it was rebuilt by a colony under Caius Gracchus, but it
was not till the reign of the Emperor Hadrian (a.d. 117 to 138) that
the inhabitants, having recovered their ancient wealth, and having
suffered fi-om several consecutive years of drought, represented their
miserable condition to the Emperor, who himself visited the city and
resolved to convey to it the magnificent springs of Zeugitanus Mons,
the modern Zaghouan. This, however, was not sufficient for the
supply of the city, and after the death of Hadrian another fine spring
at Mons Zuccharus, the present Djebel Djougar, was led into the
original aqueduct — probably in the reign of Septimius Severus, as a
medal was found at Carthage with his figure on the reverse, and on the
obverse Astarte seated on a lion beside a spring issuing from a rock.
' It was certainly destroyed by Gilimer, the last of the Vandal kings,
when endeavoiTring to reconquer Carthage, and again restored by
Belisarius, the lieutenant of Justinian. On the expulsion of the
Byzantines it was once more cut off, and restored by their Arab con-
querors, and finally destroyed by the Spaniards during their siege of
Tunis. It was reserved for the present Bey, Sidi Saduk, once more to
restore this ancient Avork, and to bring the pure and abundant springs
which formerly supplied Carthage into the modern city of Tunis. . . .
' The original aqueduct started from two springs, those of Zaghouan
and Djougar ; and to within sixteen miles of the present city of Tunis
— namely, to the south side of the plain of the Catada — it simply fol-
lowed the general slope of the ground without being raised on arches.
From this point, right across that plain — a distance of three Roman,
or two and a half English miles — with slight intermissions, owing to
the rise in the ground, and so on to the terminal reservoir at the modern
village of Maalika, it was carried over a superb series of arches —
sometimes, indeed, over a double tier. The total length of the aque-
138 Carthage and Timis. Jan.
duct was sixty-one Roman miles, or 98,897 yards, including the branch
from Mons Zuccharus, which measured twenty-two miles, or 38,803
yards ; and it was estimated to have conveyed 32,000,000 litres (up-
wards of 7,000,000 gallons) of water a day, or eighty-one gallons per
second, for the supply of Carthage and the intermediate country.
' The greatest difference is perceptible in the style of construction,
owing to the frequent restorations whicli have taken place. The oldest
and most beautiful portions are of finely cut stone, each course having
a height of twenty inches ; . . . a great part of the aqueduct, how-
ever, is built in a far less solid manner — of concrete blocks, or of small
irregular stones. . . . The mere fact of masonry of this character
being used, pise in fact, by no means proves it to be of modern origin,
as Pliny informs xis that this description of masonry was much in use
amongst the ancient Carthaginians. In some places a threatened
danger had been guarded against by the erection of rough and massive
counterforts. Along the plain of the Oued Melian, in a length of
nearly two miles, we counted 344 arches still entire.' (Playfair's
' Bruce,' p. 130.)
The vexed question of the topography of Carthage may be
regarded as in its main lines settled by M. Beule's explora-
tions in 1859. Relying on the decisions of the great archaao-
logical arbiter — the spade — we can afford to ignore the dis-
crepancies of ancient authority and modern opinion. There
can, in fact, be no reasonable doubt that the capacious double
port, in the construction of which nearly a million cubic feet of
sandstone must have been excavated,* is now represented by two
shallow pools, situated near the south-western angle of the
peninsula, on the fertile spot by the shore known locally as
* The Fig-trees,' and it is almost equally certain that the Hill
of St. Louis is the site of the ancient Byrsa,t or citadel, where
the few desperate survivors of Scipio's siege perished in the
blazing Temple of -3^sculapius. Here, too, was enacted the
last scene of the last crusade, when the good King Louis,
expiring on a bed of ashes, left to his son, with the kingdom
of France, the Avise and pious exhortation preserved by Join-
ville. The spot is now formally consecrated to his memory,
Louis Philippe having caused a chapel to be erected there in
1841 ; and it is recorded, in signal testimony to the cordiality
of the relations then subsistiuo; between France and Tunis,
that a battalion of native troops was told off to escort the
''^ Beule, ' Fouilles et Decouvertes,' t. ii. p. 53.
f Byrsa (signifying an ox-hide) is the form Avhich Greek pronun-
ciation gave to the Phoenician Basra, a fortress. The story of Dido's
crafty mode of measuring the land allotted to her new colony followed
quite naturally from the meaning of the Greek word. As in so many
other cases, a corruption was followed and justified by a legend.
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 139
statue of the saint to its destined place. Indeed, the duty-
was probably by no means repugnant to them, since, by a fan-
tastic caprice of tradition, St. Louis is numbered amongst the
saints of Islam. The Arabs entirely believe that before his
death he was converted to faith in the Prophet, and the holy
village of Sidi-Bou-Saidon Cape Carthage, in which no Chris-
tian is allowed to sleep, derives its peculiar aroma of sanctity
from the commemoration of the virtues of the Christian king
and crusader.*
Tunis is the natural successor and lawful heir of Carthage.
It had, however, to wait some time for its inheritance ; for,
though it has survived its majestic neighbour now nearly
twelve centuries, it probably existed before her. There is no
record of its foundation ; it has communicated to history no
autobiographical sketch, authentic or legendary ; it was simply
seated immemorially at the gates of Carthage, expecting its
turn. It has always borne the same name, whose meaning
oblivion has long since covered, and was probably a Libyan,
or, as we should now say, a Berber hamlet when the Phoeni-
cians began to colonise Africa. The jealousy of Carthage
kept it poor and defenceless; but Agathocles made it his
head-quarters during his four years' adventure, and it became
a centre of devastation when Regulus landed at Clypea (now
Kelibia) the first Roman army which set foot on the southern
shore of the Mediterranean. When Hassan removed, as he
thought, an obstacle to the growth of Kairewan, he had no
idea that he was destroying instead the rival of Tunis. ^ Only
six years later it began to assume the importance which its
position claimed ; but its first effective appearance in history
was more clamorous than creditable. Musa, the conqueror of
Spain, equipped a fleet and constructed a harbour there in 704,
when it rapidly acquired a piratical reputation rivalling that
of Carthage under Genseric. The extent of his ravages may
be estimated from the fact that he is said, on good authority,
to have captured in his freebooting excursions 300,000 persons
of all sexes and ages. This need not appear incredible when
it is remembered that human booty was, at that time of all
others, the easiest to take, and the most profitable to sell.f
Aghlabites, Fatimites, and Zirites, Almoravides, and Almo-
hades had successively had their day, when Abou Zaccharia
established, in 1206, the seat of an independent principality at
Tunis. This ' Hafsite ' dynasty (as it was called from the
* Bosworth Smith, ' Carthage and the Carthaginians,' p. 466.
I Amari, ' Storia del Musulmani di Siciha,' i. p. 124.
140 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
lather of tlie founder) was probably of Berber origin, and
lasted until the turn of the Turks came. In 1535, Barba-
rossa,* the ' friend of the sea, and the enemy of all those who
' sailed upon it,' got possession of Tunis by a stroke of luck
and treachery combined. He was already potent at Algiers,
and threatened, by his depredations, to extirpate the commerce
and depopulate the shores of the Mediterranean. Muley
Hassan, the prince Avhom he expelled, Avas not more virtuous
than the Mitylenian corsair, but he was less mischievous, and
his ]n"ivate crimes Avere alloAved to be outweighed by the public
good. The Emperor Charles V., accordingly, as the repre-
sentative of the police of Christendom, collected an armament,
and reinstated him in a throne Avhich he had reached by a
hideous series of fratricides. The release of thirty thousand
captives earned for the Emperor a reputation for humanity,
v/hich the slaughter of an equal number of unoffending
persons in the sack of the toAvn must be alloAved to have gravely
compromised. The forts of Goletta were held by the Spaniards
until 1574, Avhen they Avere disastrously lost; for in the pre-
vious year, the chivalrous and unlucky Don John of Austria,
still Avearing the sc^ircely faded laurels of Lepanto, undertook
to drive the irrepressible Ottomans from Tunis, once more
seized by them In 1570. This he accomplished almost Avith-
out resistance : but instead of folloAvIng the sagacious adA'ice
of his brother, Philip II., Avho desired him to raze the fortifi-
cations and abandon the spot, he left behind a governor and
garrisons, not only at Goletta, but in Tunis itself. The truth
seems to be that one of the chimei'as Avhich beguiled the
hopes of this unfortunate young man Avas that of founding an
African empire — probably, even, of revmng, as ' King of Car-
* thage,' the extinct glories of the Punic city. The bright
bubble burst quickly. Sinan Pasha, an Italian renegade, Avas
commissioned by Selim II. to annihilate the threatening nucleus
of a possible Christian power In Africa. The Spanish garrisons
offered a heroic resistance, holding out almost to the last man ;
and Avith their extermination ceased the last attempt to keep
the Turks out of Tunis.
It was AA'ith no unreasonable dismay that Europe saw the
coast of North Africa portioned out into principalities by the
corsair admirals of the Sublime Porte. It is difficult at the
* A corruption of Baba (Father) Haroudj, not an epithet descrip-
tive of the colour of his beard. The name properly belonged to his
elder brother, but Avas held in common, Avith many estimable qualities,
by the pair.
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 141
present day to form an idea of the terror inspired and the
damage inflicted by the Barbary pirates during three cen-
turies — from the capture of Algiers by Barbarossa in 1516 to
its bombardment by Lord Exmouth in 1816. No household
in Spain or Italy within reach of the sea was safe from their
depredations. The long black hulls of their ' raven '-prowed
galleys lay invisibly in the offing, until night covered their
approach, and revealed, in the light of blazing homesteads,
the extent of the disaster they were the bearers of.* Even
as far as the North Sea Turkish rovers ventured with im-
punity and profit, and the number of Christians sold into
slavery was so great that a religious order was instituted in
Spain for the special purpose of their redemption. In the sum-
mer of 1605, one of these pirate galleys fell in with a coasting
vessel bound from Marseilles to Narbonne. One of the
passengers on board was a young priest named Vincent de
Paul, who, with all the rest of the ship's company, was taken
to Tunis, and there sold as a slave. He passed from one
master to another, and at length came into the hands of a rene-
gade Christian, whose heart — singularly enough, through the
pleadings of his Turkish wife — was touched by reminiscences of
the religion he had forsaken. A plan of escape was accordingly
concerted between master and servant, and after waiting many
mouths for a favourable opportunity, they at length got safely
off in a small boat to the coast of France, where the future
saint initiated some years later his works of charity, while the
converted apostate retired to a monastery in Rome.
It is satisfactory to remember that a sturdy buffet was ad-
ministered to the Barbary pirates, in the days of their power,
by the hands of an English admiral. In 1655, Robert Blake,
one of the boldest of British seamen, battered into ruins the
walls of Porto Farina (then the arsenal of Tunis), burnt the
Tunisian fleet, released slaves, and extorted a pledge of better
behaviour for the future. A pledge probably ill kept. For,
in a Mahometan state, amendment rarely sets in until deca-
dence is imminent, and administrative reforms signify and
precede political downfall. Nothing could well be more
exemplary than the course of policy pursued, during the
present century, at Tunis. Christian slavery ceased in 1816 ;
slavery of all kinds Avas abolished in 1837 ; the Jews have been
emancipated, and the black turban, or cap, distinctive of their
race, continues to be worn only by some ancient conservatives
in costume ; a constitution, modelled on the most approved
* Creasy, ' History of the Ottoman Turks,' vol. i. p. 280^ note.
142 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
liberal principles, was even promulj^ated by the present Bey
in 1861, and Avithdrawn only when the ungrateful recipients
threatened a revolution in favour of absolutism. It is hinted,
indeed, that a doubling of the imposts had its share among the
causes of the rising. And here we touch tlie flaw.
A rotten system of finance is the inevitable concomitant of
the oriental method of administration, and seems to be the
destined inclined plane along which orientally administered
states are gently conducted to their doom. A mode of taxation,
which seems expressly designed to combine the maximum of
oppression with the minimum of revenue, drains the life-blood
of the country. Industry, hopeless of receiving its due reward,
sinks into apathy ; land goes out of cultivation, irrigation is
neglected, trees are cut down, manufactures perish. Mean-
time, the level of modern civilisation must be maintained, and
modern civilisation is expensive. Works of public utility* or
private magnificence exhaust an exchequer whose outgoings
increase as fast as its incomings diminish. Foreign loans afford
temporary relief, and bring, with public insolvency, its penalty
in the form of an international commission. The resources of
the country are, however, developed, though not for the benefit
of the people. Railways, telegraphs, canals, are constructed
by means of foreign capital, and to the profit of foreign share-
holders. Eventually, individual interests demand the prop of
official protection, and armed occupation becomes the supple-
ment and safeguard of financial possession.
Such is the history which we see being enacted before our
eyes in more than one Mahometan country. But in Tunis
events have been precipitated by a complication of interests
and rivalries. The ambition of Italy has long been turning
in the direction of colonial expansion. The burden of her
overgrown military establishment requires for its support a
commercial development for which the crowded markets of
Europe afford no facilities. She demands a new outlet, and
believes that such an outlet is to be found in Africa. Its
close vicinity to her shores, and the historical relations of Rome
and Carthage, seemed to point out Tunis as the ' Italian
' Algeria ' of the future. The importance of the Italian
element in the population, the rapid expansion of trade, and
the energy of the late M. Rubattino in establishing and
* The difficulties of the present Bey began with the expenditure
of thirteen million francs on the restoration of the ancient aqueduct
His personal moderation contrasts favourably with the prodigality of
some of his predecessors.
1882. Carthage and Tunis, 143
extending steam communication between the two countries,
made it already a valuable field for Italian commercial ac-
tivity. French influence, which, during the greater part
of three reigns, had been supreme at the Bardo, began to
decline, and French ' susceptibilities ' were in many tender
points wounded. The spirited bidding of M. Rubattino se-
cured the Tunis and Goletta railway as Italian property;
the French counter-scheme of a line to Hammamet was
quashed ; the Enfida affair had an issue adverse to French
interests ; the French telegraph monopoly was contested. At
last, a coup de main and a coui^ de tete in one cut short an
intolerable rivalry ; the Kroumirs furnished a pretext by
which Europe consented to be blinded until an accomplished
fact could be brandished before her reopened eyes ; and the
treaty of May 12 Avas signed at the Bardo amid the indignant
but impotent ])rotestations of an outraged prince.
It remains to be seen by what practical services to civilisa-
tion an act as ill-considered as it was unjustifiable will be
palliated in the judgment of history. The province which has
fallen into French hands is, as regards variety of natural
riches, the choicest in Africa. The climate is mild and equable ;
mineral wealth is not lacking; mines of quicksilver, which
have never been worked, exist near the mouth of the Med-
jerda, and lead mines, known to the Romans, but now neg-
lected, in the Djebel Resass (^ Mountain of Lead ') ; while, in
the north-western district, a mountain, reported as composed
wholly of iron oxide,* promises an unlimited supply of
cutlery and rifled cannon. The vegetable kingdom is still
more munificent. All the fruits and esculents of a temperate
climate are exposed for sale in the bazaars of Tunis ; cereals
yield to the most niggardly cultivation an abundant harvest ;
the more special productions of the south — olives, oranges,
figs, lemons, almonds, and pomegranates — thrive luxuriantly ;
the Djerid, or ' Country of Dates,' is said to contain two
million palm trees. Yet the entire country is, notwithstand-
ing these advantages, in a state of abject decadence. Where
no census has ever been attempted, estimates of population
are not to be depended upon, but it seems certain that the
number of the inhabitants, which now scarcely exceeds a
million and a half, has enormously fallen off since the last
century, to say nothing of the flourishing figures reported
from earlier times. This depopulation, which appears to be
rapidly progressive, is in a large degree the consequence, but
* E. Pellissier, ' Description de la Eegence de Tunis,' p. 47.
144 Carthar/e and Tunis. Jan.
also to some extent the cause, of a conspicuous deterioration
in the quality of the soil. A province which Constantine,
when he appropriated to his new capital the corn of Egypt,
assigned as the granary of Rome, is now frequently driven to
import grain for the subsistence of its own dwindled population.
Colonel Playfair reports that the whole region of the Sahel,
or the coast-land of which Susa is the centre, once of unex-
ampled fertility, now springs into verdure only in seasons of
exceptionally abundant rainfall, but at other times presents
the aspect of a stony and arid waste. The change is regarded
by him as one of the disastrous effects of reckless dis-
forestation : —
' We know,' he says, * that at one time the country was covered with
forests. I myself have travelled for days over plains Avhere not a tree
exists, and yet where ruins of Eoman oil- mills Av^ere frequently met
with. Ibn Khaldoun, in his history of the Berbers, says : " El Kahina
" caused all the villages and farms throughout the country to be
" destroyed, so that the vast region between Tripoli and Tangier?,
" which had the appearance of an immense thicket, under the shade of
" which rose a multitude of villages toi;ching each other, now offered
*' no other aspect than that of ruins." Even in modern days the same
destruction of forests has been continued, if not wantonly or for pur-
poses of defence, as in the time of the early Arab conquerors, still as
surely by the carelessness of their descendants, who never hesitate to
set fire to a wood to improve the pasturage, or to cut down a tree when
timber is required, but who never dream of planting another, or even
of protecting those which spring up spontaneously from being destroyed
by their flocks and herds.
' In Bruce's notes, written 110 years ago, frequent allusion is made
to forests through which he passed, where not a tree is now to be seen,
and this is a work of destruction which must go on with ever-accelerat-
ing rapidity year after year.'
The consequence is that hills are denuded of their soil, the
rich mould deposited in the valleys becomes covered with
sand blown from the desert in summer, and gravel and stones
brought down by rains in winter, until the life of the land is,
as it were, locked up in an inexorable imprisonment, where it
remains inaccessible and sterile.
The activity of nature has co-operated with the negligence
of man to place obstacles in the way of the restoration to
Tunis of its ancient prosperity. The current Avhicli once
formed the water-way of the Phoenicians from the Straits to
Syria has helped to throw down the mud of the Medjerda
(the ancient Bagradas, whose name is doubtfully derived
from the Tyrian god Melkarth), thus hopelessly silting up
harbours once populous with shipping. Tlie ruins of IJtica
1882. Carthage a7id Tunis. 145
now lie many miles inland, round the miserable village of
Bou-Shater; the course of the river has shifted far to the
north of its ancient bed ; the curve of the coast between Cape
Farina and the peninsula of Carthage is almost obliterated ;
and the ports still existing are continually encroached upon by
fresh deposits of alluvium. For one of these, however, a
great future, so far as it Is in the power of the new masters
of the country to confer it, is reserved.
Bizerta, the * Venice of Africa ' (s« parva licet componere
magnis), boasts an antiquity perhaps double that of the city of
the Lagoons. It was a Tyrian colony, designated Ippo achcret"^
(the * other Hippo ') to distinguish it from an elder town of
the same name, Hippo Regius (so called by the Romans, as
being the residence of the Numidian kings), now Bone. Tppo
acheret was transformed by the Greeks into Hippo Diarrhytus
(an epithet obviously descriptive of the situation of the town) ;
Diarrhytus was gradually softened into Zarytus ; thence came
the Arab corruption Bcnzerte, from which to Bizerta is an
easy transition. Agathocles gave the place importance by
providing it with fortifications and a new hai'bour ; a Roman
colony was planted there ; and the inhabitants, though only
four thousand in number, distinguished themselves during the
middle ages by frequent revolts against whatever power hap-
pened temporarily to have the upper hand.
' The situation of the town,' Colonel Playfair writes, ' is extremely
picturesque, being built on each side of the canal which connects the
lake with the sea, and on an island in the middle of it, principally occupied
by Europeans, and joined to the mainland on either side by substantial
bridges. The town is entirely surrounded by walls, the entrance to
the canal being protected by what in former times would have been
considered formidable defences. That on the west is the Ivasbah or
citadel, and contains a number of residences both of private individuals
and of public functionaries ; on the opposite side is the fort of Sidi el-
Houni, containing the shrine of that holy man. Between these the
canal is embanked. The foundations are, no doubt, ancient, though
the superstructure is modern. The west wall is produced as a break-
water, but it is very ruinous, and has evidently projected much further
into the sea than it does at present. Its length is not sufficient to
prevent the sand being drifted in by the north-west winds, whereby
the canal has been so much filled up as to render it practicable only for
light fishing-boats. Near the gate of the Kasbah may be seen the
chain formerly used to protect the entrance. ...
' The important feature of Bizerta, however, is its lake, now called
Tinja, formerly Hipponitis Palus, which in the hands of a European
* Movers, 'Die Phonizier/ ii. 2, p. 510.
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. L
146 Carthofjc and Tunis. Jan.
power might become one o£ the finest harbours and one of the most
important strategical positions in the Mediterranean, Its length from
east to Avest is aliout eight geographical miles, and its width five and a
half; the channel, which connects it with the sea, is at its north-east
angle, and is about four miles long and half a mile broad ; but the
shallow portion which passes through the town is less than a mile in
length, with a depth of from two to ten feet. Beyond, it widens out,
and has a depth equal to that of the lake, from five to seven fathoms.
A comparatively slight expenditure would be required to convert this
lake into a perlectly landlocked harbour, containing fifty square miles
of anchorage for the largest vessels afloat. At present the anchorage
off the entrance is very insecure ; vessels are compelled to remain in
the open roadstead, and at a considerable distance from the town ;
there is no shelter from the prevailing bad weather, and if ship-
wrecks are rare, it is simply because the place is avoided by large
vessels.
' The lake teems with fish, Avhich produce a yearly revenue of
180,000 piastres, or 4,500/., to the State. They are caught both by
nets and in weirs of reeds erected at the narrowest portion of the straits,
and are then carried on donkeys to Tunis for sale. They are not only
most abundant, of excellent quality, very difEerent firom the mud-
tainted produce of the Tunis lake, but of ^reat variety. The inhabi-
tants of Bizerta say that there are twelve principal kinds, one of which
comes into season each month. This is by no means a modern idea ;
it is mentioned by El-Edrisi, Avho says : " When the month has ex-
" pired, the species which corresponds to it disappears, and is re-
" placed by a new one, and so on till the end of the year and every
» year. ..."
' A favourite means of catching the larger kind is for a man to
station himself at the prow of a boat under one of the arches of the
bridge, with a ten-pronged grane in his hand and a vessel of oil beside
him. From time to time he sprinkles a few drops of oil on the surface
to calm its ripples and enable him to see the larger fish passing, and
these he spears with great dexterity. Wild fowls of all kinds are
numerous on the lake, and ibr quails and snipe its banks are a sports-
man's paradise.
' To the south-west of this lake is another, nearly as large, but with a
depth of from two to eight feet only. . . . The water is almost sweet
in winter, Avhen a considerable body is poured into it by the Oued
Djoumin, or river of ^dater; but in summer, when the level sinks, the
overflow from the salt lake pours into it by the Oued Tinga, a tortuous
canal which connects the two, and then its waters are not potable. , . .
This lake also abounds in fish, principally barbel and alose (clupea
Jinta), which are held in no esteem by the natives.' (Playiliir's ' Bruce,'
p. 143.)
The alternatln2: flow between the two lakes above described
is mentioned by Edrisi, with the additional circumstance that
the waters in no degree change their quality by the inter-
chanirc — the salt lake losing none of its saltness, and the fresh
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 147
lake none of its freshness, in whichever direction the current
sets. ' Ceci est encore,' he remarks quaintly, ^ Tune des
' particularites de ce pays.'
It is curious to find Bizerta figuring in the old romances as
the capital and representative town of Africa. It was here
that the English paladin Astolfo besieged the Saracen kino-
Branzardo after the destruction of the fleet of Ao-ramante • it
was here that took ship the formidable host
' Whom Biserta sent from Afric shore,
When Charlemain with all his peerage fell
By Fontarabia.'
Our readers may compare Ariosto's account of the defences
of the old town with the description just quoted from Colonel
Playfair. Here is the stanza : —
' Bizerta on two faces had the sea,
The two remaining rested on dry land ;
Of structure excellent in their degree.
Its walls in times of old were built and planned ;
Its sole defence and help in these must be.
For after King Branzardo and his band
Took shelter there, nor time nor building-masters
Were found to mend or better Time's disasters.'
The remarkable advantages presented by the position of
this town have not escaped notice from the French authorities.
They have recognised * that Bizerta is the key to the valley of
the Medjerda, and that the valley of the Medjerda commands the
Regency. Accordingly, whatever should be the policy even-
tually adopted elsewhere, the purpose inflexibly held with
regard to the designated maritime capital of North Africa
might be expressed in the phrase, J'y suis^ ^^fy reste. The
unfurling of the tricolour above the rusty and dismounted
guns of the Kasbah on May 1, 1881, may thus be expected
to mark a singular change in the condition and prospects of
this degenerate colony of Tyre and Home. The operations
of dredging and embankment necessary to convert a mud-
choked estuary into a profound and capacious harbour may
indeed prove far more costly than was anticipated in the vague
and sanguine estimate of ' a few hundreds of thousands of
' francs ; ' but financial difficulties will not be allowed to stand
in the way of an enterprise assuming the seductive aspects of
* See M. de la Berge's volume cf occasion, cited at the head of this
article, pp. 76, 178.
148 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
national aggrandisement, and physical obstacles will doubtless
be successfully disposed of by the skill and perseverance of
French engineers.
The design of deepening the lake of Tunis so as to render
the city accessible to ships of heavy draught has, it may be
presumed, been abandoned* in favour of the newer schemes of
improvement at Bizerta. The two places are distant from each
other only thirty-six miles, and a railway is already projected
to unite them, which can hardly fail, when constructed, to
divert to the rising emporium much of the traffic which now
animates the port of Goletta. The present capital will tlius
in all probability receive no increment of prosperity from the
French ' protectorate.' The flood- tide of European improvement
will sweep in another direction. Tunis will remain very much
what it is, dirty, oriental, and picturesque. The 'Rose of
' Africa ' (hyberbolically so called) is not always the most
fragrant of flowers. But the Tunisian contempt for hyo-ienic
laws has not entailed the evil consequences M'hich sanitary
congresses teach us that it ought. On the contrary, Tunis is
an exceptionally healthy city, and has since 1819 remained
unvisited by the plague. It lies spread out — to use the Arab
comparison— in the shape of a burnous, of which the Kasbah
or citadel represents the hood, on some rising ground formino-
an isthmus between two salt lakes. The creamy radiance of
its buildings still deserves the epithet ' White ' bestowed upon it
by Diodorus nineteen centuries ago ; but the verdure of its
background is probably less conspicuous now than when it
earned for it the appellation of the ' Green ' city. The popula-
tion of Tunis may be, with much uncertainty, estimated at
100,000; and it is said, with still greater uncertainty, to have
doubled that number in the last century. Couting^ents from
many races and countries go to make up the motley crowd.
There is a Turkish aristocracy, an Arab petite noblesse, and a
Moorish bourgeoisie. The designation ' Moorish ' is a very
Avide one, including, like the convenient phiiological term
' Allophylian,' a multitude of races having no quality in
common except their refusal to fit into any of the established
categories of classification. All possible remnants and survivals
of ancient settlements — Phoenician, lloman, Byzantine are
covered by it; but it chiefly indicates the descendants of
Arabs fugitive from their attempted conquest of Europe;
above all, of Moors expelled from Spain in the beginnino'
* A project is, however, on foot for the construction of a port at
Rades, on the southern shore of the lake of Tunis.
1882. Cartilage and Tunis. 149
of the seventeenth century. As late as 1864 a lineal descen-
dant of Boabdil, King of Granada, exercised the trade of a
])erfumer in one of the bazaars of Tunis;* close to the gate of
Carthage may be seen the tomb of the last of the Abencer-
rages ; and many families transmit sacredly from generation
to generation the house-keys — some of delicately chiselled
steel, some of rudely perforated box-wood — brought with them
in their exodus, firmly believing that when the Prophet shall
raise up to them a champion to redress all the wrongs of their
race, they Avill by their means find admission to the Anda-
lusian homes, of which they still, after two hundred and
seventy-two years of exile, cherish the memory.
A large element in the population of Tunis is formed of
Jews. Their first coming dates from the great calamity of
their race under Titus ; but European persecutions added
largely to their numbers. Here, as elsewhere, they have
thriven in spite of the restrictions with which they were handi-
capped. The most lucrative share in the traffic of Tunis is
theirs. The booths in tlie silk bazaar are held exclusively by
Jews. The trade in gems, which has a peculiar importance in
a country where other modes of investment can scarcely be
found, is entirely in their hands. Communication between
foreigners and natives is carried on in Italian, which is also the
language of the club and of diplomacy. This is doubtless due
to the fact that two-thirds of the Christian inhabitants of this
city are Maltese artisans, who, according to Colonel Playfair,
constitute here, as elsewhere in the Eegency, an industrious
and vv ell-conducted section of the community. In the country
they have obtained, with their karatonis, or light two-
wheeled carts, a monopoly of the carrying trade ; but in Tunis
all merchandise is conveyed on the backs of camels, asses, or
mules, whose long files of a hundred or more wind endlessly
through the tortuous and unpaved streets, deep with mud and
ruts in the rainy season, and scarcely less intolerable from dust
in the dry.
Regarding the primitive inhabitants of North Africa, our
knowledge has advanced very little beyond the point where
Sallust left it. He tells us that, on the death of Hercules in
Spain, the heterogeneous army which had accompanied his
conquering expedition lost its cohesion and separated into
innumerable fragments. Of these the Persian, Mede, and
Armenian divisions crossed into Africa, allied themselves with
the aboriginal Libyans and Gastulians, and gained possession
* De Flaux, * La Kegence de Tunis,' p. 50.
150 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
of the country. The Persians, adopting, in signification of
their roving habits, the name of Nomads or Numidians, settled
in the district round Carthage, where the majyalia, or long
keel-shaped huts of the natives, still recall the ships which
transported their ancestors across the Straits, and, reversed,
formed their first shelter on African soil.
It was to the people thus formed, according to a tradition
beyond the reach of criticism, that the Arabs gave the name
of Berber * — a term implying, like harharian in its original
sense, the use of a rude and unintelligible mode of speech.
The ' Berber ' tongue can, in fact, be assigned to no knoAvn
family of language ; but the features and manners of the
tribes employing it are believed to indicate Semitic affinities,
while the fair complexions occasionally fovmd amongst them
are accounted for by a supposed admixture of Aryan blood.
In the Regency of Tunis, Berber and Bedouin have become
so completely fused as to defy separation or analysis ; but it
may be said generally that the race of the invaders prevails in
the north and east, that of the primitive inhabitants in the
districts vero;ino; toAvards the desert. The Arabs who now
rear their camels and pitch their black tents on the plams of
Tunis, are not the descendants of the followers of Okba and
Hassan. They are the product of a later and more destructive
invasion. In 1051, the Emir of Kairewan having thrown off
his allegiance to the Fatimite Khalif, it was resolved at Cairo
to desolate a jn'ovince which it was hopeless to attempt to
resume. The Bedouin tribes Hilal and Soleim were accord-
ingly summoned from Upper Egypt ; each man of them
received a cloak and a dintir, and so equipped they were let
loose west of the Nile. In six years the work of ruin was
accomplished. Kairewan was sacked (1057), its inhabitants
driven for refuge to Sicily or Spain, and Northern Africa
made desolate.f The effects of the devastation are thus de-
scribed by Edrisi ifter the lapse of a century : —
' Al-Cairawan, la metropole du payg, etait la ville la plus importante
du Maghribjj: soit a cause de son etendue, soit a raison de sa population
et de ses richesses, de la solidite de ses edifices, des avantages que
* It was probably suggested by tte Eoman * Mauri Barbari,'
modified so as to convey a meaning in Arabic.
f * Storia dci Musiilmani,' ii. pp. 51:7-8.
X Marjlir'tb or Macjlireh signifies in Arabic ' "West,' and is used to
designate that very distinct region of Africa cut ofT from the rest of the
continent by the desert and the Lesser Syrtis (Gulf of Gabes), which
comprises the coimtries of Tunis, Algeria, and Morocco.
1882. Cartilage and Tunis. 151
presentait son commerce, de I'abondance de ses ressources et de ses
revenus, tandis que ses habitants se distinguaient par leur esprit
d'independance, par leur fierte et par leur audace. Les hommes pieux
de cette villo etaient remarquables par leur perseverance dans le bien
et leur fidelite aux engagements, par I'abandon des choses vicieuses et
reloignement des peches, par I'etude assidue de diverses sciences
estimees, enfin par la tendance a la droiture ; mais Dieu, en faisant
tomber cette ville au pouvoir des Arabes, a repandu sur elle toutes
sortes de calamites. Actuellement il ne subsiste de son ancienne
grandeur que des mines ; une partie de la ville est entouree d'uu mur
en terre ; les Arabes y dominent, et mettent le pays a contribution ;
les habitants y sont peu nombreux, et leur commerce ainsi que leur
Industrie sont miscrables. Cependant, d'apres I'opinion des astrologues,
cette ville ne doit pas tarder a recouvror son ancienne prosperite.'
The stars, however, were mendacious, or their interpreters
unskilful ; for Kairewan had already passed her meridian, and
was tending towards a still remote horizon of helplessness and
humiliation. The days were gone beyond recall when Charle-
magne sent an embassy to the court of Ibrahim ibn-Aghlab
to sue for the relics of St. Cyprian ; when caravans from the
Soudan poured riches and splendour in at the gates, and the
fantastic magnificence of Zirite festivities animated the solemn
streets of the Holy City. Its sanctity alone survived. It
was, until the 26th of last October, the virgin sanctuary of
Islam in Africa. Its gates had opened, during twelve centu-
ries, to no infidel invader. Its shrines had been profaned by
no infidel footsteps. It was founded by one companion of the
Prophet, it possessed the tomb of another. Hundreds of holy
men had come to lay their bones in the sacred vicinity. It
shared with Mecca the privilege of conferring the coveted
title of ' hadji,' seven pilgrimages thither earning for their
performer the dignity of the green turban. It was even j)ro-
phetically affirmed that it would one day possess the venerated
remains of Mahomet himself.
Mr. Rae, whose book, entitled ' The Country of the Moors,'
stands amongst others at the head of this article, is one
of the first Christians who have been allowed to enter
the walls of Kairewan for many centuries. His account of
his reception there is one of the most curious and amusing
parts of his delightful work, to Avhich we must refer our readers
for a more complete account of these regions. We have sel-
dom read a narrative of ti'avels undertaken or related with
greater spirit. Colonel Playfair obtained leave from the Bey
of Tunis to visit the sealed city a short time after Mr. Kae
had visited it, and, as his Avork is less generally known, we
shall borrow his account of its legendary story. It would seem
152 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
that, as the Moors anticipated, these visits Avei*e ominous of
coming evil, and laid their holy places open to the invader.
' Next to Mecca and Medina, no city is so sacred in the eyes of
Western INIohammedans as Kerouan. The history of its foundation is
given by Ibu Khaldoun. In the fiftieth year of the liedjira (a.u.
G70) Moaouia ihn-Abi-Sofian sent Okba ibn-Nafa to conquer Africa.
Tlie latter proposed to his troops to found a city v/hich might serve
liim as a camp, and be a rallying- point for Tslamism till the end of time.
He conducted them to where Kerouan now is, and which was then
covered with thick and impenetrable forest, the habitation of wild
beasts and noxious reptiles. Having collected round him the eighteen
companions of the Prophet who v/ere in his army, he called out in a
loud voice, " Serpents and savage beasts, we are the companions o£ the
" blessed Prophet. Retire ! for we intend to establish ourselves here."
Whereupon they all retired peaceably, and at the sight of this miracle
many of the Berbers Avere converted to Islamism ; during forty years
from that date not a serpent was seen in Ifrikia. No wonder that Okba
is as much venerated here as St. Patrick is in Ireland.
' Okba then planted his lance in the ground, and called out " Here
" is your Kerouan " (caravan, or resting-place), thus giving the name
to the new city. He himself traced out the foundation of the governor's
palace, and of the great mosque, the true position of the kibla, or
direction of Mecca, Avhich was miraculously communicated to him by
God. In most mosques the Imam, when leading the public prayers,
turns ostentatiously a little on one side or the other, as if facing J\Iecca
with even greater exactitude than the building itself ; but here he
invariably stands exactly in front of the people, thus recognising the
miraculous correctness of the sacred niclie or apse which indicates the
direction of the great sanctuary.
' The sacred character,' he continues, ' of this city has not exempted
it from its full share of war and violence. Even the great mosipie has
more than once been almost totally destroyed by the IMohammedans
themselves, but it has never actually been polluted by a Christian
invader. . . . Until quite lately, the city was entirely sealed against
all who did not profess the faith of El-Islam, and even now it is only
by a special order of the Bey that a Christian is admitted within its
walls. A Jew dare not even approach it, and it is said that when on
one occasion the Heir- presumptive paid a visit to it with a Jewish
retainer in his suite, he was compelled to leave the latter at a day's
journey oulside.
* The great mosque was fonnded by Sidi Okba; but EI-Bekri states
that a century later Yezid Ibn-IIatem, governor of Africa, demolished
it all, with the exception of the Mihrub, and rebuilt it. Ziadat-Ullah,
the first emir of the Aghlabite dynasty bearing that name, demolished
it a second time, and once more reconstructed it.
' Exteriorly it has no architectural pretensions, but in the interior
there are nearly 500 marble columns, all derived from Koman build-
ings in various parts of the country. Of these 25G are in the internal
sanctuary itself; the remainder are in the courts of the building, dis-
1882. Carthage and Tunis. 153
posed ill fifteen naves. On each side of the Mihrab aie two cohmins
of greater beauty than the rest, and in tlie central aisle in front of it
are three more on each side, Avith smaller ones between, regarding
■vvhich the Arabs have a superstition that only those -whose salvation
is assured are able to pass between them. Any person in mortal f-in,
Avhatever be his stature, however stout or however thin, would certainly
find himself unable to squeeze through.'
The wall of the great mosque is said to bear the inscription,
' Cursed be he who shall count these columns, for lie shall, lose
' liis sight.' It is characteristic of our time that the first to
brave the malediction and dissipate the mystery was the corre-
spondent of an English newspaper. Two highly interesting
letters in the ' Times ' (November 15 and 18, 1881) let in the
unpitying light of the nineteenth century upon the long-hidden
sanctuaries of ]\Ioslera superstition. The stones which, at the
worvl of Okba, moved of themselves into their destined places,
have been numbered and measured, and one of the few hiding-
places left to the Unknown has been thrown open to modern
curiosity. The great mosque measures in its widest extent
142 yards by 85 ; the prayer-chamber, or Mihrab, exactly 40
yards by 80. The vaulted roof of the great central nave is
supported by a double row of enormous black marble columns
with white Corinthian capitals ; these are flanked on either
side by nine ranges of pillars of inferior size, and vai'ious form
and colour, on which rest the semicircular arches of eighteen
lesser aisles. In the apse of the Mihrab, which is richly
decorated with mosaics, is seen, on the left, a large slab
of white marble, covered Avith emblems and surrounded by
broad bands of verd antique. The hand of Okba himself is
said to have placed it there twelve hundred years ago. The
number of columns in the nave alone is 40 ; the prayer-chamber
(with facade) contains no less than 206,a,nd the sum-total of those
in the interior of the edifice amounts to 412. The multitude
of these relics of ancient splendour collected for the embellish-
ment of a single building suggests, and the exploi'ations of
travellers certify, the strength and extent of Koman domina-
tion in regions now inaccessible to civilisation, and scarcely
available for habitation.*
Next in sanctity to the Great Mosque of Okba comes the
' Mosque of the Companion.' Syed Abdullah was, if tradition
* Mr. Eae was not allowed to enter the mosque, but his calculation
of the number of columns from the outside, and from the information
he collected, tallies very nearly with subsequent observation. He
estimated the total number of columns in the prayer-chamber at 171
(perhaps omitting the facade), and the whole number at 415.
154 Carthage and Tunis. Jan.
says truly, one of the most devoted disciples and Intimate
friends of Mahomet. After his death, he came to Africa, and
died at Kairewan, old and reverenced. The three hairs of the
Prophet's beard which, during his lifetime, he w^ore constantly
on his breast, were buried with him — one under the tongue,
one on his right arm, and the third next his heart. Hence
arose amongst Exu-opeans the grotesque idea that he was one
of the Prophet's barbers ! The cluster of buildings, containing
the tomb of' My Lord, the Companion,' which lies outside the
city walls, and affords several examples of elaborate and beau-
tiful decoration, was also visited and described by the Avriter
above alluded to.
The inhabitants of Kairewan often suffer severely from
drought, their sole water supply being contained in cisterns
under their houses. A striking illustration of the apathy into
which they have fallen is afforded by the ruined or damaged
condition of the three great reservoirs constructed for their
use by Saracen princes.
' The only Avell in the city ' (we recur, for the last time, to Colonel
Playfair's observations) ' is one of very brackish water, called El-Barota.
Tradition says that on the foundation of the city it Avas discovered by
a slonghi, or Arab greyhound, scratching up the ground. The pious
believe that there is a communication between this and the holy well
of Zemzem at Mecca. A pilgrim once let his drinking-vessel fall into
the latter, and on his return to Kerouan he found it in El-Barota ! . . .
' It is extremely difficult to form anything like an accurate estimate
of the population of such a city as this. . . . Comparing it with
Mohammedan cities in Algeria, the population of which is known, I
should be inclined to put it down at considerably less than 10,000.
It formerly possessed a very considerable trade, and was famous for the
manufacture of carpets and woollen fabrics ; now its industry is almost
confined to the manufacture of copper vessels, saddlery, and Arab
boots and shoes. As a rule, the physique of the people is poor, and
the children are imusually rude and ill-bred towards strangers. There
is very little intermarriage between the inhabitants of Kerouan and
the people of other towns ; the result in so small a community is an
inevitable tendency to degenerate. Cancer, sore eyes, and maladies
depending on dirt and poverty of blood are very common.
'A short distance to the south of the city is Sabra, the site of Vicus
Augusfi, mentioned in the Itinerary of Antonine, from Avhicli has
been derived a great part of the ancient materials employed in the
construction of Kerouan, and of the royal residences in the neighbour-
hood, Avhich in their turn have disappeared.'
One of the sententious sayings which Sallust puts into the
mouth of the conqueror of .liigurtha is that ' AVars are easy
* to begin, but most difHcult to finish.' The French are
learning, not for the first time, the truth of this aphorism. The
1882. Irish Discontent. 155
enterprise on which they are noAv engaged is a very different
one from the * promenade militaire et campagne diplomatique '
(to use a phrase of M. de la Berge's) which was in contem-
plation when the ' Galissonniere ' disembarked, on the first
day of last May, her cargo of fusiliers at Bizerta. We seem
to be witnessing a repetition of the operations conducted by
Marius in the kingdom of Jugurtha. The same plan of cam-
paign appears to have been adopted ; the same line of march
has been followed. The ' oppidura magnum atquc valens, inter
■^ ingentes solitudines nomine Capsa,' surprised and burnt by
the Boman Consul in the year 106 B.C., gave its name
and yielded its site to the town, situated in an oasis of won-
derful beauty and fertility surrounded by vast desert tracts,
which General Saussier's column entered on November 20.
But to the difficulties encountered by Marius two fresh ones are
added. The French are opposed by no conspicuous chief,
whose capture or death would at once terminate the war ; and
they have to contend with the unmeasured forces of religious
hatred and fanatical zeal. We do not doubt that they will
eventually triumph, and that their triumph will be for the
profit of civilisation in ways and by means perhaps different
from what they expect ; but we believe that an expedition
undertaken in defiance of public faith, and at the instigation of
national jealousy, would never have left French shores, could
the cost have been counted or the consequences foreseen.
AiiT. VI. — 1. The Irish Problem, and hoio to solve it.
London: 1881.
2. Catechism of the History of Ireland^ Ancient and Modern.
A new and revised Edition, with an Account of the Land
Agitation. By W. J. O'Neill Daunt. Forty-sixth Thou-
sand. Dublin: 1874.
T^HE present temper of the Irish people is a difficult problem
for those Englishmen who think that because disaffection
has ceased to be reasonable, it has therefore ceased to be pos-
sible. The legislation of fifty years has just been crowned by
an effort of a very unusual kind to settle the question of land,
which Mr. Lecky has shown to be the chief disturbing influ-
ence in all Irish history. It was an effort involving the sacri-
fice of prepossession and tradition on our part, tasking alike
the coui'age and the skill of statesmen, for the Avhole tangled
web of laws and precedents with which the native tenure had
been overlaid by centuries of alien legislation has been rent
156 Irisli Discontent. Jan.
asunder, and tlie new law oives to the tenant more tlian he
ever enjoyed under his old Celtic chiefs. It was not unreason-
able, therefore, to expect that we were at last on the point of
reaping an ample harvest of gratitude and confidence for our
past legislation, and for tlie still increasing evidence of English
anxiety to do justice. The recent history of Ireland, however,
seems to indicate that no repentance or reparation on our j)art
will ever win back her people. They become more difficult to
govern exactly in proportion to the liberality of their treat-
ment, and we become less successful in governing exactly in
proportion to our more conciliatory attitude. AVe may make
every allowance for the traces left by centui'ies of oppression
on the character of its victims as Avell as of its authors, but
it is an altogether remarkable fact that the animosities which
once desolated Ireland should have survived all the ameliora-
tions wrought by fifty years of the n:iost beneficent legislation,
and should have turned the very benefits and blessings of our
government into the materials of insult and defiance. An atti-
tude of this sort might have been appropriate to a time when
the Irish people were almost outside the pale of constitutional
government and sacrificed to the supremacy of an intolerant
faction. But it seems strangely unreasonable and inconsistent
at the present hour. Yet the Irish now demand, as the price
of their allegiance or their tranquillity, concessions clearly in-
consistent with the safety of the Empire, and tending only to
aggravate all the evils from which they have suffered. It is
no wonder that many Englishmen are becoming sceptical as to
whether any concession would remove a discontent which every-
thing fails to satisfy and which reasoning only irritates ; and
therefore hold that our duty is henceforth simply to maintain
the connexion of the kingdoms at all hazards, not merely
because separation would be more dangerous than union, but
because it would ruin Ireland to leave her to the bitter passions
and foolish dreams of the present leaders of her people.
The question has been often asked by thoughtful men, Avhy
the Irish should continue to hate England and to cherish the
sour and morbid discontent which now so greatly enhances all
the difficulties of government. It seems a difficult question to
answer, and deserves s])ecial consideration at the most critical
of all periods in the relation^> of the two countries. But this
discontent is by no means universal. It has no existence what-
ever among any class of the Protestants of Ireland. The
Episcopalians and the Presbyterians are more sternly and im-
placably hostile than Englishmen themselves to any project of
separation from Great Britain. Yet there was a time when
1882. Irish Discontent. I57
the Protestant nobility and gentry were found in the ranks of
rebellion, and large masses of Ulster men were as hostile to
England as the Catholics of the other provinces. Belfast, now
the loyal capital of the North, and the most Conservative of
Irish towns, Avas once the focus of rebellion — 'the heated
' centre of philosophical republicanism.' But no class of Pro-
testants has since been identified Avith any insurrectionary
movement in the island. It is true that the Home Rule
movement had its origin in the wounded pride and bitter dis-
content of a knot of Tories, who resented the disestablishment
of the Irish Church ; and that even Orangemen, from the
prompting of * wounded loyalty and ill-requited allegiance,'
threatened for a time to join the irreconcilable enemies of the
British connexion in a crusade against foreign government.
But the aberration was only for a moment. The Protestants
went back quietly to their old historic position ; and Home
Rule, though its present leader is a Protestant, is now an
exclusively Catholic movement. The disaffection, however,
does not exist universally even among the Irish Catholics
themselves. Since justice has been done to the nobility and
gentry, and since the prizes of political and professional life
have been open to Catholic and Protestant alike, the discon-
tent has no ])lace among the higher classes of Catholic society.
It is manifest only among the masses of the Catholic people,
the peasantry of the country districts, and the small traders of
the towns, who, by virtue of the political power in their
hands, are able to influence the policy of the whole country.
Many different explanations have been given of ' this
' intangible feeling of dislike, not to say hatred, of England,
' which most Irishmen inherit as their birthright,' as it has
been expressively described by one of themselves. Mr. Matthew
Arnold seems to think that oppression has nothing to do with
it, nor misgovernment, nor bad tenure, but that English civi-
lisation is hopelessly disagreeable to the Irish people from its
want of sweetness and light, of joyousness and charm. This
solution is hardly consistent with the fact that the Irish come in
great numbers to England, struggle side by side with us for
the prizes of public life, and enter with us into every relation
of business and friendship. Another explanation finds the
incompatibility of the two peoples, like that of the Magyars
and Slavs, in one of those fundamental differences which are
covered by the word ' race ; ' but, as Mr. Froude remarks, the
modern Irishman is of no race, so blended now is the blood of
Celt and Dane, Saxon and Norman, Scot and Frenchman.
The hostile feeling is strongest in Tipperary, where the race
158 Irish Discontent. Jan.
is most mixed. Another more plausible explanation is the
retrospective habit of a ])eople with too slight a hold upon the
present, and therefore disposed to brood morbidly over past
■wrongs. The injustice of centuries cannot be forgotten in two
or three generations. It is only fifty years since the great
mass of the people were allowed any voice in making the laws
they were bound to obey, while no legislation can possibly
undo the injury that still flows from the operation of some of
the old penal laws. The industries of Ireland were destroyed
many generations ago, one by one, except the fabric of linen,
by tiie cruel jealousy of English landlords, English manufac-
turers, and English tradesmen. They have never revived,
though the Imperial Parliament has abolished all the old im-
politic restrictions on manufacture and trade ; for it is not in
the power of England to revive them. Likewise, the penal
laws, which were designed to exclude the whole Catholic
people from public life, have been repealed, but the spirit
Avhich they exasperated and embittered has continued to act
because their repeal has left the administrative ascendency of
Protestantism in a Catholic country practically untouched.
But the most plausible explanation is that which traces this
discontent to a vague passion for a country no longer absorbed
in the undivided greatness of the United Kingdom, but an
independent self-sufficing member of the Empire. There is a
desire for a more distinctive position, in which Ireland will no
longer be obscured by the greatness of England, and perhaps
an unexpressed wish for an opportunity of developing an inde-
pendent policy of her own in domestic and foreign affairs.
These are the principal solutions offered in explanation
of one of the most painful problems of our time. It is easy
to see that there may be an element of truth in most of them,
but we propose to test the matter decisively by a reference
to the literature of Ireland. We want to know what the
Irish people have been reading for the past generation. We
have taught them to read. The question is, what are they
readino- ? No one can deny that a test of this sort is of the
fairest description. The literature of a nation, being at once
the exponent of its intellect and the utterance of its passions,
must exercise a po"j\'erful influence upon its political action.
It includes intellectual ])roducts of all sorts — essays, histories,
biographies, poems, ballads, squibs, romances, tales, orations,
almanacs, and newspapers — many of them trivial and ephe-
meral productions, but their wide and rapid circulation may
cause them to act more powerfully in society than woi'ks of
greater literary pretension. It has been a question with some
1882. Irish Discontent. 159
historians whether the press as worked by Marat, or the
guillotine as worked bv Robespierre, was for the time the
more destructive agency; for, if the one was red with its heca-
tombs of blood, the other ran with a more deadly venom that
corroded the hearts of the living. It is certainly possible to
neutralise by the direct agency of the press much of the ad-
vantage conferred by wholesome laws, constitutional govern-
ment, and equal justice. The press may become the facile
instrument of keeping an impulsive people in a chronic state
of malignity against their rulers, and in a chronic state of dis-
content with all the existing relations of society. It can impart
an education to the masses which will only develope the bad
passions and nurture hatreds that too often, like curses, come
home to roost.
Nearly sixty years ago this Journal complained of the
wretched provision made for the literary wants of the youth
of Ireland. Captain Hock was then the leading national in-
structor. The school and cottage classics consisted of the lives
of rapparees, witches, smugglers, outlaws, and prostitutes, or
of wild and extravagant tales, or of books which tended rather
to inflame and strengthen the worst passions, or to fill the mind
with extravagant and absurd notions of real life. And if the
two generations of Irishmen Avho have since entered the world
seem to have made but little advance in culture, in common
sense, or in loyalty, it is owing, not to the want of a due and even
generous provision for national education, but to the substance
and spirit of the literature which has been created for their
guidance by their political or religious leaders. There was
no I]"ish press in existence forty years ago of sufficient influ-
ence or circulation to reach the masses of the people. It was
only during the later years of the O'Connell agitation that it
began to come into real contact with them, and as it was
strongly imbued with Nationalist or Repeal princij)les, tbe
political education of Ireland advanced rapidly in the direc-
tion represented by the racy journaHsm of Charles Gavau
Duffy. This gentleman infused a new spirit into the Catholic
press through the ' Nation,' and was still powerful, after the
fiasco of 1848, in directing the youthful mind of the country
in regai'd to current politics and general literary and social
philosophy. He gathered round him a band of aspiring men,
of whom Thomas Davis was the chief, the author of some fresh
and original ballad poetry ; and he projected for an extensive
series of national works on Irish history and biography. Let
us say, then, in a single word, that it is the literature of this
Young Ireland school, in its various forms, that is now the sole
160 Irish Discontent. Jan.
political reatlinp; of the Catholic masses. Its almost incredible
cheapness is the best evidence of its -wide diffusion and its
abiding popularity.
We shall be.oin with a notice of the biographies most popu-
lar in Ireland, such as those of Theobald Wolfe Tone, Lord
Edward Fitzgerald, and Robert Emmet. They are threepenny
productions, and are therefore within the reach of the poorest
peasant in the country. They record in a brief space all that
is -worth knowing concerning the three darling heroes of the
Irisli heart. It is only just to say, however, that there is no
Englishman -whose heart will not be touched by the story of
their passionate devotion to their country and their truly tragi-
cal end. The one matchless gem of national poetry, * Who
' fears to speak of '98 ? ' which must be anonymous while its
Protestant author lives, describes as impressively the feelings of
loyal Ulster men whose grandfathers fought at Ballinahinch
or Antrim as it does those of the more impulsive Catholic of
the South who has never laid down his arms. But the effect,
as well as the design, of these biographies is to keep alive the
national feeling, and to point to insurrection as the only hope
of Ireland. Tone was ' the godfather at least, if not the actual
' parent, of the Society of United Irishmen.' Lord Edward
Fitzgerald was a military leader of experience. Emmet was
the promoter of an abortive insurrection. In the light of these
facts we can understand the significance of the opening words
of Tone's biography : —
'After seven centuries of foreign invasion and occupation our people
are even less inclined to accept the position of the conquered and to
efface their distinct nationality than their ancestors were in the days of
St. Lorcan O'Toole ; and they cling with a tenacity which nothing can
shake to the great project of making their isle once more *' free and
" grand." '
The biography ends with the words : * Ireland is not yet
' a nation. To make her so is what her sons, especially her
* youthful sons, have yet to strive for.' The tendency of
such writing is to incite to insurrection, as the only means of
achieving Irish independence ; though the facts of the three
biographies, justly considered, demonstrate the utter folly as
well as wickedness of such an enterprise.
The Young Irelanders likewise expended great strength
on history as the best means of fostering a national spirit.
But they had been already anticipated by O'Connell himself
in an historic memoir of Ireland, which is still circulated
among the masses at the low price of sixpence. It was first
published in 1843, and consists of 256 pages. Its title is
1882. Irish Discontent. 161
* A Memoir on Ireland, Native and Saxon,' and it is dedicated
to the Queen. Its author tells her Majesty that she ought
' to comprehend the secret springs of Irish discontent,' and,
above all, ' should be intimately acquainted with the confis-
' cations, the plunder, the robbery, the domestic treachery, the
^violation of all public faith and of the sanctity of treaties,
' the ordinary wholesale slaughters, the planned murders, the
' concerted massacres which have been inflicted upon the Irish
' people by the English Governments.' He assures the Queen
that ' the Irish people would forgive these crimes if it were not
' that much of the worst spirit of the worst days still sur-
vives.' The great enemy in 1843 was Hhe Tory landlord
' class,' but it would be difficult to discover from the memoir
that there was then, or ever had been, a powerful political
party in England that had laboured with great zeal and had
made great sacrifices to place the Catholics on a platform of
equal privilege with the Protestants. The book is constructed
with great simplicity. It occupies forty-two pages with a con-
densed memoir of Ireland from 1172 till 1843, and then de-
votes the remaining two hundred pages to ' observations,
' proofs, and illustrations,' taken, as its author informs us,
' almost exclusively from English and Protestant historians.'
It is indeed a terrible record, and is still read by the Irish
masses with effects in no way conducive either to their
comfort or their tranquillity. It is eminently calculated to
foster the deepest hatreds, not of race only, but of religion.
Let us supj)ly a few extracts taken from different parts of the
memoir : —
* No people on the face of the earth were ever treated with such
cruelty as the Irish.' (P, 14.)
' It has been often said that it was not the people, but the Govern-
ment of England, who were guilty of the attempts to exterminate the
Irish nation. The observation is absurd. The Government had at all
times, in their slaughter of the Irish, the approbation of the English
people. Even the present administration is popular in England in the
precise proportion of the hate they exhibit to the Irish people ; and
this is a proposition of historic and perpetual truth. But to the
Cromwellian wars the distinction between the people and the Govern-
ment could never apply. These were the wars emphatically of the
English people. They were emphatically the most cruel and murderous
wars the Irish ever sustained.' (P. 210.)
' These pages contain a faint outline of the sad story of the woes
and miseries of Ireland. The features of that story are characterised
by the most odious crimes committed by the English rulers on the
Irish people — rapine, confiscation, murder, massacre, treachery,
sacrilege, wholesale devastation, and injustice of every kind, continued
VOL. CLY. NO. CCCXVII. M
162 Irish Discontent. Jan.
in many of its odious forms to the present hour. Tlie form of perse-
cution is altered; the spirit remains tlie same.' (P. 38.)
' It has been often remarked that in all the countries into which
Protestantism entered, it OAved its introduction to men remarkable for
the badness of their character and the greatness of tlieir vices. Pro-
testantism was not more fortunate in Ireland than it was elsewhere.
It owed its introduction into Ireland, as it did into England, to the
foul passions of Henry VIII.' (P. 101.)
' I cannot help remarking that nothing was ever more unfounded
than the notion that Protestantism was favourable to freedom of
conscience, or that Protestants were not persecutors. The contrary is
directly the fact. Protestants not only persecuted Catholics, but they
persecuted each other to the death.' (P. 115.)
' There never Avas a people on the face of the earth so cruelly, so
basely, so unjustly treated as the people of Ireland have been by the
English Government.' (P. 33.)
' Ireland lost all and gained nothing by the Union. Every promise
was broken, every pledge Avas violated. Ireland struggled and prayed
and cried out to friends for aid and to Parliament for relief.' (P. 31.)
These are but a few extracts from a sixpenny book of
history which is still circulated widely among the peasantry
of Ireland. The exact mischief it is calculated to work will
be still more manifest on a consideration of its value as a
fragment of Irish history. If the author had contented him-
self with an honest and truthful story of cruelties and oppres-
sions Avhich it is impossible to deny, it is still questionable
whether he was justified in publishing it. But the mischief of
this work is its essential unfairness as estimated by the very
meanest standard of historic workmanship. There are writers
whose judgment on the actions of men proceeds on the tacit
assumption that those they condemn and those they approve
are morally separated by that broad line which marks off" ab-
stract right from abstract wrong. Their view of history is ex-
ceedingly simple, and it is, with important qualifications, the
view of O'Connell and of nearly all Catholic historians Avho
write about Ireland. There was no difficulty in O'Connell
writing a book that would be a grave indictment against
England ; ample materials for such a work are to be found in
the Protestant and English histories which he so ostentatiously
quotes among his authorities. The peculiarity of the case is
that the authors in question actually tell the truth, leaving it
to produce its OAvn impression, often adverse to their country
and their faith, while the English Government itself is now
publishing to the world ancient records that throw still further
light upon many of the worst atrocities of the past. But
the Catholic writers of Ireland, Avith fcAv exceptions, Avithliold
1SS2. Irish Discontent. 163
all notice of the guilt of their countrymen, in the attempt to
enhance the guilt of their adversaries ; they either omit or
deny the best established facts of history. They misrepresent
or excuse what they cannot deny, and thus help to perpetuate
party rancour or religious animosity. O'Connell quotes all
the atrocities he can pick out of Protestant writers, but he
does not quote any passages from the same writers reflecting
on the atrocities or cruelties of the Catholics. His treatment
of the 1641 Rebellion is the most characteristic part of his
work. He follows, like other Catholic writers, the exact line
-of Dr. Curry, whose treatise Hallam has denounced as a
' tissue of misrepresentation and disingenuousness.' He de-
nies that there was any massacre of Protestants in the rising
of that eventful year, and does not even hint that religious
fanaticism was responsible for some of its worst excesses ; for
he is careful to assert again and again that the Catholics of
Ireland never persecuted their enemies. He never mentions
the repeal of the Act of Settlement by the Irish Parliament
called by James II. in 1689, nor the infamous Act of Attainder,
condemning nearly three thousand Protestants for high treason
without a hearing — ' a law,' says Macaulay, ' without a paral-
* lei in the history of civilised countries ' — adding that ' the
* colonists never came up to the atrocious example set by their
* vanquished enemy during his short tenure of power.'
It may be reasonably urged, however, that it is hardly fair
to judge of the attitude of the Irish people by the spirit of a
work written nearly forty years ago, when the country was
still suffering from the denial of so many just and necessary
reforms. But the book is still widely read over the length
and breadth of Ireland. More recent productions, however,
are neither better in spirit nor more just in their mode of
handling facts than the memoir of O'Connell. The war of
opinion is still potent in the region of history. We have
Thomas D'Arcy M' Gee's ' History of Ireland ; ' John
Mitchei's ' History of Ireland,' together with a volume with the
significant title, * The Last Conquest of Ireland (Perhaps); '
A. M. Sullivan's 'History of Ireland for Young People;' and
Miss Cusack's ' History of Ireland.' The literary merit of
these works is exceedingly slight. They make no pretensions
to original research ; they have no breadth of view, making no
attempt even to consider the English point of view, and they
manifest the usual disposition to exaggerate all the cruelties and
crimes of the English, and either to deny, ignore, or palliate
the cruelties and crimes of the Irish. They are all thoroughly
national in spirit. Mitchei's History has had a very large
164 Irish Discontent. Jan.
circulation, and has been issued even at the low price of three-
pence. We do not propose to quote passages from any of
these Avorks, because it might be said that the price of most of
them would ])lacc them beyond the reach of the masses of the
people. We prefer to notice a single production, just a
shilling in price, which embodies in the form of question and
answer the substance and spirit of all these histories. It is a
modern work wdth the title,. ' Catechism of the History of
* Ireland, Ancient and Modern. A new and revised Edition,
' with Continuation to the Present Time. By W. J. O'Neill
* Daunt, Esq. Fortieth thousand: 1874.' This is a book for
the masses. It is strictly Catholic as well as national, and
its object is to prove the justice and necessity of establishing
a native Parliament in Ireland.
The author unconsciously supplies one of the strongest
arguments against his own main design by his record of the
divisions and dissensions of his countrymen during all past
ages. He asks : —
' Q. Why do we record these shameful squabbles ? A. Because
they show us the true cause of Ireland's subjection to a foreign Power.
The Irish had numberless opportunities of establishing their own inde-
pendence, and lost every one of them by their absurd and mischievous
contentions.'
This is exactly what Mr. Froude has been telling Irishmen.
But the author fails to draw the moral of the English his-
torian : —
' Q. What do modern Irishmen learn from these facts ? A. They
learn that in order to regain their native Parliament it is absolutely
necessary to forget all past dissensions and to work together as one
man, cordially, heartily, and perseveringly.'
Irishmen have surely more to forget than their past dissen-
sions, but it is the design of the historians of this school to
perpetuate the recollection of all past cruelties and tyrannies,
so that the hatred of England may never die out of the hearts
of Irishmen. Mr. Daunt publishes all English cruelties, though
they were seldom worse than those intlicted by the Irish upon
one another, but he omits all notice of, or actually denies,
the cruelties of the Irish inflicted upon their Protestant
enemies. He constructs his catechism exactly like the memoir
of O'Connell, with as profoundly Catholic a bias. If he
admits the Bidl of Pope Adrian, he attributes it to the English
extraction of the Pope ; if he describes the horrors of the
Elizabeth period, he makes no mention of the Pope's excom-
munication of the Queen, and his absolving Irishmen from
1882. [risk Discontent. J65
their allegiance, or of three Spanish descents on Ireland in a
single reign ; if he charges the death of Oliver Plunket, the
Catholic Primate, on English zealots, he does not inform his
readers that it was three umvorthy priests of his own Church
who supplied the evidence that sent him to the scaffold ; and
so all through the catechism his omissions have a most sio-nifi-
cant character. Of course, like all Catholic historians since
Dr. Curry, he denies the massacre of 1641. He likewise
makes no allusion to the Act of Attainder passed on nearly
three thousand Protestants by the Irish Parliament of 1689.
Mr. A. M. Sullivan's history for young people makes no men-
tion of it ; Mr. T. D. M'Gee in his larger history refers to
the atrocious transaction, but without one word either of
censure or excuse. Mr. Daunt, however, praises the Parlia-
ment for its noble decree establishing liberty of worship in
Ireland. Mr. Froude says very justly that ' liberty of cou-
^ science might be safely conceded in a country where, if the
* present measures could be maintained, no Protestant was
* likely to remain.' * Mr. Daunt's catechism has not a word of
censure for the repeal of the Act of Settlement : —
' Q. Was the Act o£ Settlement repealed this session? A. Yes;
the forfeited estates which the CromweHian adventurers had obtained
were thereby restored to their former owners who had lost them
through their loyalty to the House of Stuart.'
He never mentions the anxiety of the Irish in 1704 to have
a union with England. Mr. Daunt naturally makes much of
the penal laws, and leaves upon the minds of his readers the
imin'ession that they were cruelly and effectively enforced.
The fact is far otherwise, for we may fairly say with Mr.
Eecky — ' The best that can be said of them is, that that portion
* which related to the Catholic worship soon became a dead
■* letter, wliile a crowd of legal evasions and a great and credit-
^ able laxness of local tribunals in a great measure defeated
* the provisions about property.' Yet they debased the whole
Catholic population. Mr. Daunt's narrative of the 1798 Kebel-
lion and of the events connected with the Union is a tissue of
misrepresentations. The two events, as described by any truthful
historian, throw no credit either upon England or Ireland ; but
it is the eager desire of Mr. Daunt to prove that the English
are always wrong and the Irish always right, except when
they quarrel with one another. He says the Kebellion of 1798
was the work of Lord Castlereagh, expressly provoked in
'Order to carry the Union : —
* English in Ireland, vol. i. p. 191.
166 Irislt Discontent. Jan.
* Q. Why did not the Government quietly crush the rebellion in its
infancy, or rather prevent its explosion and thus avert the horrible
destruction of human life ? A. Because its object Avas to carry the
legislative union ; and tliat could not be done unless the country was
first thoroughly exhausted by the paralysing influence of terror and
mutual distrust among its inhabitants, and therel)y rendered incapable
of resisting the destruction of its Parliament.'
He furtlier alleges that the Government miglit have arrestefl
the leaders, and thus have prevented the rebellion from break-
ing out. He forgets that the Government made two successive
arrests of the leaders, one of them more than a year before the
outbreak, and that General Lake tried to disarm the whole popu-
lation. Witli his usual desire to palliate all the excesses of the
Catholics, lie treats the Scullaboguc massacre as an untoward
incident having nothing to do with religion, and makes no
allusion Avhatever to the piking of Protestants on Vinegar
Hill and AYexford Bridge, under circumstances that vividly
recall the bloody orgies of 1641. The Protestant rebels of
the North had a very different view of the motive of these
massacres, for they dropped their weapons on the instant, and
their timely surrender saved Ireland to the English Government.
The story of the efforts made by the Government to carry the
Union is disgraceful enough in itself, but Mr. Daunt cannot
tell it fairly. He represents the gentry and people of Ireland
as striving to preserve their Parliament, though we did not
need his authority for believing that the Irish oligarchy and
borough-mongers were opposed to a change that would take
the country effectively out of their hands; and much as he
makes of the 707,000 petitioners against Union, he cannot
destroy the authority of honest Catholic Plowden, that ' a very
* great preponderancy In favour of the Union existed in the
' Catholic body, particularly in their nobility, gentry, and
' clergy.'* Mr. Daunt devotes a large portion of his cate-
chism to a chronicle of the evils inflicted upon Ireland by her
union Avith England, but makes no references to its undeniable
advantages, to the legislative remedies provided for ancient
evils, and to the progress of Ulster both in agriculture and
in manufactures. He enters at o;reat lensi;th into what he
calls 'the financial grievance,' and attempts to show that
England impoverishes Ireland by including her in the system
of taxation now established for all parts of the kingdom, con-
trary to the express engagements of the Act of Union. Those
who desire an effective answer to Mr. Daunt's accusations may
* Vol. ii. part ii. 079.
1882. L'ish Discontent. 167
refer to an article in this Journal, entitled ' The Financial
* Grievance of Ireland.'*
Another popular specimen of Irish literature is ' Speeches
' from the Dock, or Protests of Irish Patriotism,' a shillino-
volume of 415 pages, at present in its twenty-third edition.
It contains biographic sketches of about thirty patriotic leaders,
representing the men of 1798, of 1848, and of 1867, and gives
portraits of the more celebrated characters. The preface
says :—
' There is not a country in Europe, there is not a nationality in the
world, can produce such another collection as that which we to-day lay
before the people of Ireland. We live under a government which
claims to be just, liberal, and constitutional, yet against no other
government in Christendom have the same number of protests been
made within the same space of time. Not Poland, not Hungary, not
Venetia, can point to such an unbroken succession of political martyrs.
... It is idle to think of subduing a people who make so many sacrifices
and who are undaunted still ; it is vain to think of crushing a spirit
which survives so much persecution.'
Hardly any book in the English language is so well calculated
to keep alive a feeling of disaffection among the Irish peasantry.
One extract from John Mitchel seems to embody the spirit
and design of the Avhole publication : —
' In plain English, my Lord Earl, the deep and irreconcilable dis-
affection of this people to all British laws, lawgivers, and law admi-
nistrators shall find a voice. That holy Hatred of foreign dominion
which nerved our noble predecessors fifty years ago for the dungeon,
the field, or the gallows (though of late years it has worn a vile nisi
prius gown and snivelled somewhat in courts of law and on .spouting
platforms), still lives, thank God ! and glows as fierce and hot as ever.
To educate that holy Hatred, to make it knoAv itself, and avow itself,
and at last fill itself full, I hereby devote the columns of the " United
" Irishman." '
We admit that many of those who suffered death or banish-
ment for sedition were actuated by a patriotic spirit, but
history shows that they were utterly incapable of estimating
the magnitude of the enterprise for which they imperilled
their lives. They were not the men to overthrow kingdoms
or to build up nations. The Fenian leaders, including such
men as O'Donovan Rossa, are hardly worthy of a place in
these ' protests of Irish patriotism.' If we can believe Mr.
Rutherford, they were more corrupt than the men of 1848,
many of them being merely dull roues, and some sharpers, who
* 'Edinburgh Eeview,' No. ccxc, October, 1875.
168 Irish Discontent. Jan
were ready to sell the secret minutes of the society for a
consideration.* Others were remarkable for nothing but a
turn for incendiary rhetoric. Yet they are all alike honoured
by a place in this collection of State prosecutions.
We now come to ' The Irish Penny Readings,' neat shilling
volumes, in green paper covers, which have already reached a
tenth edition. The preface tells us that ' the national litera-
' ture of the Irish people is of recent growth,' and then pro-
ceeds to remark : —
' The literature of Ireland, especially in recent times, is identified
with the struggles and aspirations of the Irish people for freedom. Its
noblest passages are either protests against oppression or appeals to the
love of liberty, justice, and honour that glows in the Irish heart.
Swift gave it that direction at the outset, and in our time it received
extension and impulse from the warm Celtic genius of Thomas Davis.
Our national literature is now essentially patriotic, and nearly all the
additions that are being made to it are in the same character. In that
fact, and the fact that it is loved and cherished by the whole Irish race,
we see one of the surest pledges for the future independence and great-
ness of our country.'
The selections in ])rose and poetry are generally of a high
literary class — the prose, perhaps, too rhetorical for a severe
English taste ; but they are mostly national alike in subject
and in tone. There are many pieces on the Union, but not
the slightest recognition is there anywhere of the efforts made
by English Liberals to legislate for the benefit of Ireland.
The reader is under the constant impression that the relation
between England and Ireland is still exactly what it was fifty
years ago, when the masses of the Irish people had nothing to
do with the laws but obey them. Here is an extract from a
speech made in 1869 which is deemed worthy of a place in
^.^th^^-,^ork:-
^*' ';.-.4-'JS^^H Rule in Ireland Described. — Generous conciliation and
^ '^facftojijis^ercy have always been foreign to the policy of our rulers.
^ -.Tyji-apis l^lrey were from the beginning, and tyrants they seem to be
** i^plwd to be to the end of their baleful domination. England's
.. :BpeptT4'^3.s been the sword, her diadem has been the black cap, and
her throiie has been the gallows for the last seven hundred years. She
is steeped in the blood of India ; red-handed from the massacre of the
women of Jamaica ; she exists with the blood of twenty generations
of dead Irishmen standing between her and God on high ; and with
brave Irishmen still suffering in her dungeons, she calls on us to
applaud the proud policy of her government.'
Another popidar reading-book, specially for the use of the
* Fenianism. By John Rutherford. London • 1877.
1882. Irish Discontent. 169
young, is ' The Sunburst of Ireland Reciter,' a sixpenny col-
lection, with a green-paper cover, containing a hundred and
fifty-nine pieces of prose and poetry, all intensely national.
A picture on the title-page represents Robert Emmet in the dock
addressing his judges. The contents are described as ' a selection
' of the most celebrated addresses delivered by Irish orators
' and patriots at the bar, from the dock, in the senate, and on
* the battle-field, with a variety of national pieces in poetry and
' prose suitable for recitation.'
Poetry has had a chief place in promoting the growth of
Irish nationalism. The Young Irelanders pondered, as they
tell us, Fletcher of Saltoun's well-known saying, ' Give me the
' ballads, let Avho will make the laws,' and they resolved to
have poetry ' as a fosterer of national feeling and an excite-
*ment of national hope.' Thomas Davis was the chief poet
of the party. The collection of his poems and ballads, which
his editor justly describes as the' psalter of nationality,' is sold
at sixpence, and has gone through a great number of editions.
Another sixpenny collection is ' The Spirit of the Nation,' in
its fiftieth edition, now succeeding an older edition, of Avhich a
hundred thousand copies were given to the world. The Fenian
period produced little of worth except ' Where glory's beams
' are seen, boys,' and ' The Wearing of the Green.' All this
poetry that is not merely romantic or sentimental is, as a
nationalist proudly observes, ' bright with the spirit of battle.'
We cannot make room for more than one or two extracts : —
^ A Song for the Irish Militia.
Yet, 'tis not strength and 'tis not steel
Alone can make the English reel ;
But wisdom, working day by day ;
Till comes the time for passions' sway —
The patient dint, the powder shock.
A soldier's life's the life for me — ®^
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free ! ' *•»
' The Gathering of the Nation.
Denial met our first demands,
And hatred met our love ;
Till now, by Heaven ! for grasp of hands
We'll give them clash of battle-brands
And gauntlet 'stead of love.
And may the Saxon stamp his heel
Upon the coward's front
Who sheathes his own unbroken steel
Until for mercy tyrants kneel
Who forced us to the brunt ! '
ted! '3
</)titatiu.
170 Irish Discontent. Jan.
* " Stamping Out."
(Addressed to England.)
Our liate, though hot, is a patient hate,
Deadly and patient to catch you tripping.
And your years are many, your crimes are great,
And the sceptre is from you slipping.
But stamp away with your brutal hoof
While the fires to scorch you are upward cleaving,
For, with bloody shuttles, the warp and w'oof
Of your shroud the Fates are weaving.'
The following extracts are from an Almanac of 1882 : —
Time conquers all things here below,
Though tyranny still struggles on,
Diifusing misery and woe,
But Erin soon shall see it gone.
The star of Retribution now
Its blissful radiance seems to shed
On every vale and mountain brow
From Antrim's shore to Mizen Head.'
Again : —
' Would to God we'd another such hero
As Hugh of the mighty Red Hand !
How we'd teach these iisurpers a lesson,
And show them who owns the old land ! '
The following piece by Miss Fanny Parnell is from
* United Ireland,' the lately suppressed organ of the Land
League, which displaced the seditious ' Flag of Ireland.' It
is addressed to England. We insert only two stanzas : —
' The Land Bill of \^%\.
Call off your quacks of State !
Your mimes, prinked out in Brummagem reform !
Fought Ave, a landlord's greed by newer plans to sate ?
To gorge the suckers of a lawyer swarm ?
Was it for this we chose to suffer, starve, and wait ?
For this we fliced the nakedness and storm ?
For this the dogs have licked cur sores outside your gate ?
Call off your imps of State !
We cannot love — but we can hate.
Tear up that parchment Lie !
You, Gladstone, sunk supine to quivering slush — -
You, Forster, with the sign of Cain on breast and eye —
You, Bright, whose slopping tongue can gloze and gush —
You, pu])pet-brood, the lesser legislative fry —
A people's might your bungled work shall crush,
]882. Irish Discontent. 171
A people's wi-atli your grinning cozenage defy ;
We -will not lose the land, we will not starve or fly ;
Tear up your chartered Lie !
This time we'll neither crouch nor die ! '
And all this raving is about a Land Act which, as Mr. John
Dillon admits, ' confers immense benefits on the Irish people ' !
We have now to notice another sort of production, which
has a considerable circulation amonp; the Catholic peasantry of
Ireland. It is the well-known ' Nugent's Almanac,' one of
those popular prophetic almanacs which are sold at all the
fairs and read in all the hovels. It is, no doubt, a good
authority on fairs and markets, but it supplies its readers
likewise with weather prophecies a year in advance and
predictions of political, religious, and social events generally
interesting to Irishmen. Old Moore still amuses the people
of England Avith his astrological nonsense, but in Ireland the
planets assume a far more malignant aspect.
' Oh, John Bull, a terrible retribution awaits thee. Nineveh, Baby-
lon, and ancient Ro7iie record a fearful lesson to the robbers of their
kind in all ages.' ' Oh, John Bull, thy robberies and crimes have
overtaken thee.' ' Poor John Bull is shivering in the gale. This
month is particularly aspected. Aries in trine to Cancer, Mars in
opposition to IMercury, all of which are indicative of coming ill to
poor John.' ' Irish-America looks on watching her opportunity, the
exiles particularly anxious to revenge their treatment and long im-
prisonment in the gaols.' ' Oh, John Bull, your race is nearly run.'
' Murders, robberies, and other outrageous breaches of our pure and
divine law, are daily committed in virtuous and religious England.'
' Some conversions to the Catholic faith of much importance will occur
this month.'
The predictions for 1882 are not very hopeful for Ireland : —
' It is most extraordinary that Venus and the Sun are not more than
fifteen degrees from each other almost the whole year : an indication
of the union of all sexes in the great struggle for freedom. The Avorld
over, England still rules, regardless of everything but laAV and order
and the preservation of property, and thus rules by force a people who
are already overruled, overtaxed, despised, and trampled on, then re-
proached by calling us disloyal subjects.' '■ Irish- America still looks on
with clenched teeth and vengeance in her eyes. We confidently hope
all may end Avell.'
But it is the newspaper press which supplies the Irish
people with much the largest portion of their education in
politics. Of the hundred and fifty-three newspapers pub-
lished in Ireland, we estimate that no less than fifty-nine are
devoted to the advocacy of nationalism. To these must be
added the Fenian papers of New York, such as the ' Irish
172 Irisli Discontent. Jan.
* World,' which have a wide circulation in the country. The
object of this press is to minister to the seditious spirit that
prevails amonnj an ignorant population by a studious misrepre-
sentation of English politics, English society, and English
character. Nothing is ever allowed to appear in its pages
calculated to exhibit the Government in a favourable light.
The people are told, week after week, that their rulers are
oppressors ; that the most honourable and philanthropic states-
men are bloodthirsty tyrants, or cowards, or hypocrites ; that
they are incapable of doing an act of justice through any
noble motive, for each Irish reform has been extorted by the
influence of fear. The weekly papers of Dublin also issue
cartoons which always represent England as the tyrant and
Ireland as the victim, Avith Mr. Gladstone occasionally stand-
ing by, surveying Avith complacency scaffold or triangle, drum
or cannon.
The papers of this class copy the abuse of England collected
from all quarters of the globe ; they take special delight in ex-
posing the moral scandals of English society, like the Ultra-
montane journals of the Continent, as if to demonstrate the
morally debasing effect of Protestantism ; they depreciate all
our triumphs in Avar ; they magnify all our disasters, and
eagerly exaggerate all our misfortunes. NeAvspapers in Eng-
land think it necessary to give their readers the news of the
world ; but four-fifths of the space in Irish national papers are
devoted to the AATongs of Ireland, the tyranny of England, and
the glorious prospect of Irish self-government. They express
no gratitude for any great effort of English legislation, simply
because they are Avritten, as Avell as read, on the assumption
that England is still tyrannical as Avell as anti-national, and to
acknoAvledge that any act of the Imperial Parliament deserved
gratitude Avould be to conA'ict themseh^es of injustice, and to
undermine their trade in sedition.
The great Avant of the South of Ireland is an independent,
honest, impartial press, capable of stating the simple and direct
truth, or capable of giving the tAvo sides of any question. The
national ncAvspapers flagrantly disregard the political obliga-
tion of honestly facing facts, and thus the people are demo-
ralised by rhetoric, by appeals to their vanity, by false history,
by CA'ery artifice of misrepresentation. They are never
alloAved to hear from such guides the Avords of political truth
and soberness. If the ' Flag of Ireland ' drops to the ground,
* United Ireland' lifts it in the name of the Land League,
and tells the Irish farmers — ' The people of this country
* can keep their own money in their OAvn pockets. They
1882. Irish Discontent. 173
* can refuse to pay rents, and they will not pay one shilling
' rent if they are not irredeemable slaves.' * Another weekly
organ issues a catechism, with question and answer, adapted
to the times. ' What is Irish landlordism ? A system of
' legalised plunder, by means of which a small number of idle
' and wicked men are enabled to rob the industrial classes of
' society of nearly all the fruits of their labours.' A cartoon of
one of these papers, published in December last, represented
Pat with the ' fee simple ' of his farm coming to him as a
Christmas-box.
It is impossible, in estimating the influence of Catholic
journalism, to overlook the immense influence exercised by the
' Freeman's Journal,' which not only directs the whole course
of nationalism through the country, but has been foremost in
promoting the organisation of the Land League. It has the
unique fairness to publish the comments of English journals
and the speeches of English statesmen, but its example is
seldom followed by the newspapers of the same school. It
has three distinct political characters, which rather puzzle a
constant reader. It is a sound Liberal journal, in thorough
sympathy with the fortunes of the great Liberal party of
the United Kingdom ; it is a passionate national journal,
reflecting with more or less clearness the varied shapes of a
movement singularly unstable in character ; it is a trenchant
Ultramontane journal, raving like Veuillot against the re-
ligious policy of Continental powers, and supporting the
schemes of Irish Catholicism with all the zeal of a seminarist.
We see, not in the ' Freeman's Journal ' only, but in nearly
all Irish journals of the class, a union of Ultramontanism
and Nationalism, of which there is no example on the Con-
tinent. The home policy of most of these journals may
be Radical or revolutionary, but their foreign policy has
always been reactionary and Ultramontane. They favour
nationalism in Ireland and in Poland, but not in Italy, or
Germany, or Hungary. They sent a Papal brigade to crush
the patriots of the^Eoman States, and the very journals which
are never silent in the narration of Irish wrongs had the
audacity to defend the royal tyrants of Italy. They have
never shown sympathy for any class of patriots but those con-
tending against non-Catholic sovereigns. These facts must be
recalled that we may be in a position to understand the in-
fluences at work in Ireland that affect her relations with the
English Government. The influence of this press is, in a
* Number for October 22, 1881.
174 Irish Discontent. Jan.
word, illiberal, narrow, and degrading, to a proverb. We may
pity an impulsive people their deplorable ignoi'ance, their
misguided enthusiasm, their pertinacity in the pursuit of vision-
ary ends, but we can employ no language of reprobation too
strong to describe the conduct of writers who pursue a most
unworthy vocatiovi, either from an instinct of national hatred
or from a sordid calculation of the profits to be derived from so
base a trade.
We have thus given some extracts from the literature most
widely read by the Irish people, that our readers may be better
able to judge of the true causes of their disaffection. At first
view, this literature seems to suggest that the discontent which
it is so well fitted to excite has its roots in the past, because the
spirit which oppression or injustice once exasperated often con-
tinues long after the original provocation has been withdrawn.
Perhaps nine people out of ten imagine that it springs entirely
from the recollection of past wrongs. But there is a fragment
of Irish history which throws much light on the question. The
Catholics Avere not the only people who suifered wrongs in Ire-
land. Take the case of the Presbyterians. Though they mainly
contributed to the victory of William III. and the successful com-
pletion of the Revolution, they were the first to be excluded from
its benefits. They Avere persecuted by the Anglican bishops
both before the Revolution and after it. Their assemblies for
worship were Avithout the protection of the law ; their church-
courts AA^ere prosecuted as seditious meetings ; their ministers
were throAvn into gaol. Any Presbyterian attempting to teach
a school, unless it Avas of the very humblest description, was
liable to three months' imprisonment. The Presbyterians
could hold no commission of the peace nor fill any municipal
office in any corporate town any more than the Catholics.
Their disabilities, like those of the Catholics, extended to all
civil and military appointments under the Crown. No Presby-
terian could hold any office in the army or navy, in the
customs, in the excise, in the post-office, or in any of the
courts of laAv in Dublin or the provinces, AA'ithout first taking
the sacrament after the form of the Church of England.
Presbyterians, moreover, Avere forbidden to be married by their
OAvn ministers, and the laity were prosecuted in the eccle-
siastical courts as guilty of fornication because they had so
married.*
* The authorities for all the statements in this part of the article
are Keid's 'History of the Presbyterian Churcli of Ireland,' vol. ii.
pp. 340-42, 421, 483; vol. iii. p. 54; and Killen's 'Ecclesiastical
' History of Ireland,' vol. ii. pp. 191-241.
1882. Irish Discontent. 175
The time came at last when, in the midst of the revokitionaiy
excitement of 1798, the men whose original motto was 'Keform
* to prevent revolution ' found themselves driven into rebellion.
But the Scullabogue massacre drove them back into the main
body of the Protestant host. They have never since been con-
nected with any national movement in Ireland, and are at this
moment the most resolute supporters of the union with Great
Britain. The question then arises, Why is it that the Presby-
terians, who suffered side by side with the Catholics for nearly
two centuries, now cherish no resentment against England and
have no share in the national aspirations of their Catholic
countrymen ? The answer is that they have shared in the
benefits of all the great reforms wrought by the splendid
statesmanship of the last fifty years. The Catholics have been
even more successful than the Presbyterians in getting access
to positions of honour and profit in their own coimtry, though
they have both still just reason for complaint that those who
were the instruments of their oppression for centuries still hold
an administrative ascendency in the country. It is perfectly
clear, then, that the disaffection of the Catholic peasantry
is not to be accounted for by the mere recollection of past
grievances.
The true cause of the disaffection so manifest in the litera-
ture of Ireland is Nationalism. It is the one constant aspiration
of the Irish people, which the mere redress of grievances may
weaken, but cannot wholly destroy. Its historic continuity is
undeniable. It has its roots far back in history, though it
never came clearly into view till the time of the Young Ireland
movement thirty-five years ago. The original idea of Duffy did
not greatly differ from that of O'Connell, for he tells us himself
that he was ' a nationalist of the school of Roger O'Moore,
* who burned with desire to set up again the old Celtic race
* and the Catholic Church.' Thomas Davis, however, over-
ruled him, and declared for a nationalism that would include
all Irish creeds. We shall see how far the course of events
caused it to swerve back to the old ideal of Duffy. The
Young Ireland movement was thwarted by many difficulties,
the hostility of O'Connell, the impatience of Mitchel,^ the
intrigues of Sadleir, the secret conspiracies of the Fenians,
and now it claims to stand behind the Home Rule movement
of to-day. Now, there are characteristics in this national move-
ment which require due consideration if we would understand
the hostility which it directs against the English Government.
It has both a political and a religious side. It is the union of
the two that makes the principal difficulty, not only in achieving
176 Irish Discontent. Jan.
a union of Irish parties, but in promoting; a conciliatory or
kindly understanding with England. We do not say that the
political or the religious element may not for a time become
quiescent — the religious is almost entirely quiescent at the
present hour — but they are both essential features of Irish
nationalism. The political element has always found its chief
justification in the land question. Therefore the national cry
has always been ' The soil of Ireland for the people of Ireland.'
The political element is further manifest in the desire of the
people to have a larger share in the government of their own
country. They have a potent voice in Parliamentary affairs,
but it is the landlords who still govern the country. There is
also a deep-seated conviction, especially among the traders in
small towns, that a native Parliament is needed to establish a
variety of industries by means of bounties, and to protect Irish
products against English competition. The existence of the
Union is believed to be the great obstacle to the restoration of
native manufactures. There may be also an idea that if
Ireland were mistress of her own destinies she would hold
a more visible place, and ])erhaps be able to pursue an inde-
pendent policy, in the affairs of the world.
But it is the religious side of nationalism which increases
the difficulty of uprooting the discontent of the people, while
it accounts for some singular incidents in recent Irish history.
It is quite true that the Young Irelanders in 1842 re-
solved to found a party that was to include Irishmen of all
creeds. They found fault with O'Connell because he made
too much of religious questions. But the Irish people are the
most passionately religious peasantry in Europe. This fact
has a significant bearing upon the question under considera-
tion. The very year that witnessed the failure of Mitchel's
impatient attempt to throw off' the British yoke was the
beginning of a long series of disasters to the Papacy. The
' Revolution ' was beginning to lay the whole Papal Avorld in
ruins and to reconstitute society everywhere on the Continent
on lay principles. Politics and statesmanshiji fell away from
the Church; while France, Austria, Belgium, Italy, and Spain,
once so subservient to the Papacy, were compelled to abandon
their obedience, and the Papacy itself was ultimately bereft of
its temporal possessions. All these changes, giving liberty
and happiness to Catholic nations, were supported by the
moral sympathy of the Protestant nations, and especially by
England. Nationalism was a great factor in the mighty
struggles that brought about these changes, and was therefore
hated by the Ultramontanes for the ruin it had brought upon
1882. Irish Discontent. 177
the Church. A crisis of this sort was a trying test for the
newly constituted nationalism of the Young Ireland party. It
soon became evident that it was a purely selfish idea, without
sympathy for the struggling nations of the Continent. The
Papal brigade, as we have seen, was sent out to assist the
Pope in crushing the rising liberties of his subjects. The
nationalists, who threatened to rebel against English rule, saw
nothing inconsistent in a foreign crusade against the liberties
of other nations. They showed that they execrated freedom
except where the oppressed had the misfortune to suffer under
heretical sovereigns. There was a time, during the discussions
on Catholic emancipation, and long afterwards, Avhen there Avas
no public dinner at which the Irish Catholics did not give the
toast of ' Civil and religious liberty ; ' but no such toast has
been heard of since O'Connell's death. This, then, is the
characteristic of nationalism on its religious side. It is this
which accounts for the fact that Protestants decline to join in
a movement controlled by Catholic ideas. It also accounts in
part for the dislike of England, which is opposed at heart to
the whole policy of Ultramontanism.
It will, no doubt, be urged in reply to this view of matters,
that the leaders of the Catholic people are not inspired by such
ideas, that some of them are Protestants chosen in preference
to Catholics by Catholic constituencies, that others of them are
indifferent or hostile to religion of any sort, and that religion
is no more potent in the movement for national independence
than in the operations of the Irish Land League itself. It
must be remembered, however, that the nationalists have
always displayed an anxiety to secure Protestant co-operation
in a movement which can only succeed by a union of Irish
parties and Irish creeds. But when Catholic constituencies
find Protestants like Mr. Parnell ready to do all purely
Catholic work better even than Catholic members whom he
could venture to denounce as ' Papist rats,' because they de-
clined to fight for still greater advantages in University legis-
lation, exactly in the same manner as the reckless Irish
politicians of New York, who never enter a chapel, are the
men who plunder the treasury of the city for the support of
Catholic schools and orphanages and reformatories, it is useless
to say that the nationalism of the masses is without its dis-
tinctively religious side. It may be said, however, that re-
ligion counts for far less than it did in Irish agitation, as is
manifest by the action of the Land League. There has un-
doubtedly been a remarkable subsidence of sectarian feeling
during the last two years, which some have attributed to
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. N
178 Irish Discontent. Jan.
disestablishment, as if religion were never again to be a cause
of division in the country. The fact is, however, that Ire-
land has not room for more than one strong passion at a time,
and that the whole people. Catholic and Protestant, have,
for two or three years, thought of nothing but the failure of
successive harvests and the prospects of protective legislation
ao-ainst their landlords. The Catholics have given their whole
heart to the Land League, and the Orangemen have been
less identified wath sectarian displays, because they w^ere as
deeply interested as their Catholic neighbours in obtaining a
reduction of rent. The question of religion could not possibly
enter into the agitation about land. Besides, Ultramontanism
has become a less aggressive factor in Ireland, as well as
elsewhere, since the accession of the present Pope, a man as
unlike Pius IX. as possible, -with a clear conception of the
several spheres of temporal and spiritual authority, and
striving earnestly to establish more easy relations Avith all
the great powers of Europe in the face of the greatest diffi-
culties.
We cannot suppose, hoAvever, that Ultramontanism will
always be so quiescent. And so long as the Irish people read
their present literature, so long as they are made to look with
dislike upon England as the head of the Protestant world and
as their 0"\vn ancient persecutor, so long as their leaders are
prepared to support every feature of Catholic policy, as they
have always consistently done from the single standpoint of
creed, it is folly to suppose that political causes alone operate
as factors in the deep and sullen discontent of the nation. It
is this nationalism, then, in its double aspect, that will be likely,
if nothing can be done to counteract it, to perpetuate the dis-
content. This view of the matter does, we admit, lay open
a rather discouraging future. But let us remember the words
of Sir Charles Gavan Duffy in the statesmanlike letter in
which he asks his countrymen to accept the Land Act : ' The
' Irish race will never make peace with England till their rights
* as a nation, shamefully snatched away, shall be frankly
' restored.'
The very important question now arises. Is there a remedy
for this discontent ? It is hoped that there are several
remedies, some of which can be brought into immediate opera-
tion, but others can only be reached after a considerable pro-
cess of time. These remedies are not to be summed up in the
single demand for self-government, though it comes recom-
mended by the mature wdsdom of Sir Charles G. Duffy. With
this hostile literature in the hands of the people, which no
1882. Irish Discontent. 179
political change can annihilate in a clay, it would be madness
to cut Ireland adrift. Whether we consider the interests of
Ireland itself or the larger interests of the Empire, the restora-
tion of an independent legislature would be most disastrous
'to Ireland. There is nothing in the past history or present
attitude of her people to justify the confidence that they would
•co-operate harmoniously for any considerable period in the just
■ends of government. What would be the probable career of a
■country governed by a party representing the opinions of Mr.
Parnell? Judging by past experience, moderate politicians
would be pushed aside by men of a more revolutionary stamp.
The Celtic preference of a Parnell to a Shaw is the best evi-
dence of the utter unfitness of Irishmen for self-government.
The Catholics could command a numerical majority of the
whole population, and would, on any possible theory of re-
presentation, return to a native Parliament a corresponding
imajority of deputies. What security have the Home Rulers
^contrived for the safety of property or of the Protestant
population ? Judging by the conduct of the masses under
the guidance of the Land League during the last two years,
property of every sort Avould be at the mercy of the most
unreflecting but the most powerful class in the whole com-
munity. The avowed purpose of Mr. Parnell and the League
is to ' abolish landlordism,' but they have not waited for th5"
forms of Irish legislation to decree this abolition in the interest
of the tenants. Then it is all too certain that there would
be a movement on the part of the South to crush the North,
just as Mr. Parnell has been trying to obliterate the Presby-
terian influence of Ulster by a disgraceful alliance with the
Tories. He will not tolerate independent opinion anywhere in
Ireland. The events of the hour are full of Avarning to states-
men. Ulster, with its strong English sympathies, its expand-
ing industries, its enterprising population, cannot be left to its
fate. We must remember that we never had a firm foothold
in Ireland till Ave planted Ulster with Scotch and English
settlers; that it Avas the descendants of these settlers who
held Derry and Enniskillen, and sealed the fate of the Stuarts
in Ireland ; that it Avas the yeomen of Ulster Avho, as Mr.
Froude reminds us, stemmed the first rush of the last great
rebellion, and doomed it to failure. The advocates of inde-
pendence could scarcely say that Protestants should rely on
the tolerance of Catholics or on the moderation of some middle
party in Irish politics, for not only is there no such party in
existence, but there is nothing in the past history of the
country to justify such a confidence. There is, in fact, no
180 Irish Discontent. Jan.
unity ill Irish society to make such an experiment safe. It
does not exist even among the Catholic masses themselves,
except for purposes of hostility or destruction. But Ave should
like to know what prospect there could be of unity or tole-
rance in Ireland with Ultramontanism as a leading factor in
its politics.
But, disastrous as a separate government would be to
Ireland, there is too much reason to apprehend that the change
would be gladly hailed by the masses of its people as a means
of enabling Ireland to turn back effectively the course of
British progress. As we have already remarked, the temper
of the people, as reflected in their literature, would not be
changed in a day. Independence would only give a better
opportunity of making the hostility effectual.
With two independent Parliaments in these islands, differ-
ing so widely in their view of home affairs, there could be no-
common policy in foreign affairs ; yet a confederacy is an
agreement to have the same friends and the same enemies.
The Irish Catholic members in the Imperial Parliament have
always supported Catholicism on the Continent of Europe.
We have no desire to interfere with the action of foreign
powers in such matters. Indeed, our position of neutrality is
a necessity imposed upon us by geographical conditions. But
if circumstances should ever arise to justify a departure from
our rule of non-intervention, it might be difficult, if not im-
possible, for the British Government to command the resources
of Ireland in a great war with a Catholic power.
It is satisfactory to know that all political parties in Great
Britain are unanimous in refusing the Irish demand for inde-
pendence. AVhig, Tory, and Radical are of one mind on this
point. It is necessary to have no misunderstanding upon
it, because the Irish people at present believe that the tempo-
rary success of the Land League in paralysing the authority
of Government encourages the hope of success in still larger
designs, and that the time is near at hand when, either with
or without the help of English Radicals, Mr. Parneirs myste-
rious threat, that ' Ireland will be worse before she is better/
may be verified by startling events. Dismissing, then, the
idea of Home Rule as a remedy for the discontent of the
Catholic masses, we must now consider whether it is possible
to diminish or uproot it in some other way.
The deepest root of discontent has always been the land.
The land question was prominent in O'Connell's agitation ;
it was the first question with the Young Ireland party ; and
Sir Charles Gavan Duffy only took his natural place in recom-
1882. Irish Discontent. 181
mending his countrymen to accept the Act of last year as a
grand measure of" Imperial justice. Nationalism was never so
quiescent as in the period of the highest prosperity of the Irish
agricultural class. The year 1876 was the central point of this
period. The country was then wonderfully prosperous. The
uniform testimony of priests, attorneys, bankers, and men of
business, about that time, was that the people thought of
nothing but making money, and the complaint of the national
journals was that they had lost all interest in politics. This
is a significant fact. The new Laud Act has not yet had time
enough to affect the temper of the people, but they already see
that it embodies an attempt to conciliate the conflicting inte-
rests that attach to the possession of the land. The very
efforts made by the Land League, reinforced undoubtedly by
the hitherto dormant Fenianism of the small towns, to prevent
the people from using it, imply a conviction that it will gradu-
ally work the pacification of the country.
Tmie, however, is the one thing essential to the full success
of this experiment in legislation ; and that is the very element
which, judging by the obstructive zeal which supports national
agitation, will not be allowed to it. It is therefore most neces-
sary that the Government shovild repress with the utmost
severity the intimidation that is applied to prevent the practi-
cal settlement of the land difiiculty. It is important also to
remember that if any considerable number of the tenants
should be in a position to become owners of their farms by the
assistance of Government loans, there will be a gradual growth
in the community of a class with a real stake in the soil, and
with the deepest repugnance to anything like revolutionary
changes. It was the remark of M. de Tocqueville, that a
good system of land tenure promotes conservatism in the best
sense — a love of settled order and a dislike of restless change ;
and we may look to it as one of the main factors in diminish-
ing the discontent which has been so great an obstacle to the
political fusion of the peoples of these kingdoms.
But something more is needed. The discontent may be
lessened still further by giving all classes of the people a larger
share in the government of the country. We have detached
the Catholics of the higher classes from agitation because we
have done them justice and given them a career. J3ut very
little has been done for the body of the people. Enghshmen
do not understand the nature or extent of the grievance of
which the Catholics so justly complain. They are not now
-debarred from the exercise of any political privilege ; they are
not now prevented from acquiring land, or lending money on
182 Irish Discontrnf. Jan,
mortgages, or tcacliiug schools, or even from acting a&
guardians of their own children. But there is a practical ex-
clusion still remaining to destroy the good effect of the con-
cessions ali'cady made, for they are excluded from nearly all
official positions of emolument even in the most Catholic
counties, and from situations and offices of trust, which
are held by Conservative Episcopalians, who are only one-
eiglith of the whole people of Ireland. The Presbyterians,.
Avho are almost as numerous as the Episcopalians, have
even still more reason to complain of the practical in-
equality that exists in the distribution of public honours
and offices of trust. Not only in counties appointments,
Avhich include offices connected with the grand jury, lunatic
asylums, infirmai'ies, and, till lately, the prisons, but in the
magistracy, in the constabulary, in the militia, the central
Poor Law Board in Dublin, and in all sorts of educational
boards, the Episcopalians have au immense preponder-
ance.* The Catholics are nowhere well represented but on
the bench of judges. But there is no part of Irish ad-
ministration more indefensible than its county governments
Indeed, in most parts of Ireland, it supplies a strong and in-
expensive electioneering agency for the return of Conservative
candidates, while uineteen-twentieths of the cess distributed by
the grand jurors is paid out of Catholic and Presbyterian
pockets. It is understood that the Government will in due
time introduce a Bill to establish county boards, which will
help to develope rural opinion, and give the people a deeper
stake in the government of the country, while it will also help to
diminish the administrative ascendency of Toryism, Avhicli is now
so warmly resented not only by Home Rulers, but by Liberals
of all shades. It is not strano-e that Irish Liberals, whether
* Take one or two examples respecting the magistracy. The County
Tipperary contains 203,227 Catholics and 13,480 Protestants of all
sects. Yet of its 227 magistrates, 173 are Protestants, 50 are Catholics,
and 4 are Quakers. Nearly all the officials of tins Catholic county
are Protestants. The County Tyrone contains (1871) 215,706 of
a population of whom 119,937 are Catholics, 49,201 are Episcopalians,
and 42,156 are Presbyterians. There are 129 magistrates in all; of
whom 113 are Episcopalians, and only one of these is a Liberal ; 10 are
Presbyterians, of whom 4 are Tories and 6 Liberals ; and 2 are Catho-
lics, both Liberals. County Dcrry, which is predominantly Presby-
terian and Liberal, has 110 magistrates, of Avhom 100 are Episcopalians
and almost all are Tories. It is computed, indeed, that over all Ireland,
eight-ninths of the magistrates arc Episcopalians, and the great
majority of these are Conservatives. It is only fair to state that the
present Liberal Government is trying to rectify this inequality.
1882. Irish Discontent. 183
Presbyterian or Catholic, should either keep aloof from public
life, or cast themselves on the people and take up extreme
views which will open their way into Parliament through the
suffrages of the more perverse elements of Irish society.
The remedies we have already suggested are happily within
the power of Parliament to carry out. They will weaken,
if not destroy, the political side of nationalism. They may be
all brought into operation within a reasonable space of time.
But there is another remedy of slower operation, never yet
fully tried, upon which we depend still more for uprooting
the discontent of the Catholic people, because it will act upon
the religious side of nationalism and destroy the taste for the
wretched literature now current in the country. That remedy
is the thorough education of the people. Though the national
system of education has been almost fifty years in existence,
it has done little more than teach the people to read and Avrite,
enlarging the circle of readers without greatly increasing their
intelligence. It has had many difficulties to contend with in
the poverty of the people and in the quarrels of the sects, and,
above all, in the want of an interm2diate system of education
to connect it with the university system of the country. What
the people learned under it was calculated rather to increase
than to diminish their discontent by opening their eyes to the
fact that they had fallen behind in the race of life, and that in
all the elements of national strength, intelligence and enter-
prise, they were far inferior to the English and the Scotch,
and even to their own countrymen in Ulster. Happily, how-
ever, we are just now at the beginning of a new era in Irish
education. The Intermediate system has been three years in
existence, and is already doing wonders. The Royal Irish
University has just come into being, and has begun its work
with every prospect of developing the original talent of the
country. They have both still to surmount the lesser obstacles
which impede the full operation of all new mechanism.
We believe that the thorough education of Ireland will tell
with a powerful effect upon both sides of nationalism. It is
obvious to anyone studying Irish character that the worst
faults of the people, and especially what the English call their
intractableness, are due to the want of education quite as
much as to the miseries of a hard lot or the vices of bad
government. They are the defects of an uneducated people who
have long struggled with untoward circumstances. They have
had no firm possession of the present, and therefore they have
thought too much of a splendid past or of a hopeless future.
They want the capacity to look realities in the face, while they
184 JrisU Discontent. Jan.
have a narrowness of mind that shuts their eyes to all interests
but their own. They are singularly wanting in moral initia-
tive ; they have no courage to denounce what is popular, though
they neither like it nor believe in it ; and their theatrical wrath
and their habits of wild exaggeration suggest any idea but
that of conscious strength. Education will do more than cor-
rect these defects of character. It Avill open their eyes to
larger interests than their own, and enable them to bring
to the consideration of political and social questions a judg-
ment not to be misled by plausible fallacies or fervid rhe-
toric. John Stuart Mill said that half of our difficulty lay
in our not understanding the Irish people ; but that was due
to the virtual absence of any powerful and intelligent middle
class among the Catholics competent to act as natural expo-
nents of the w'ishes of the peasantry. Education \y\\\ not only
effect a shading off of one class into another, but Avill organise
Irish society under men of a better intellect, capable of judg-
ing statesmen sincerely and supporting them sincerely in all
methods of wise legislation. It will also help Protestants and
Catholics to understand each other better and to discern the
common ground on which, wdiether political, or social, or moral,
ithey can meet with public advantage.
We admit that nationalism may still survive, Aveakened or
almost destroyed on its political side by the redress of griev-
ances, but possibly strengthened on its religious side by com-
plications of Ultramontane policy working from outside these
islands. The great error of the old penal policy was the dis-
placement of the educated lay element and the relative aug-
mentation of ecclesiastical power in the social system of Ireland,
and our present desire is to create an educated Catholic laity
in the country that will view even religious questions in a spirit
different from that familiar to an ignorant but devout peasantry.
We do not say that University education will loosen the hold
of Catholicism on the Irish people, but that Catholicism will
always be held very differently by an educated and by an un-
educated laity. Educated Catholics will have most influence
with educated Protestants, just because, while they are con-
sistently Catholic, their minds are open to larger considerations
that enable them to allow for, if they cannot sympathise with,
the Protestant inability to bow to a religious authority that is
final Avith themselves. We may hope that education will do for
the loAver classes of Irishmen Avhat it has already done for the
highest, without weakening their attachment to their faith.
Protestants and Catholics of the better classes manage to live
beside each other on terms of mutual tolerance and respect.
1882. Irish Discontent. 185
f ■
The education iioav so vigorously prosecuted will in due time
deposit facts and reasonings in the minds of young Irishmen
which must tell their own story in the generation to come. Na-
tionalism may no doubt still exist, but it will be more literary
than political in its interest, and Avill help to unite Irishmen of
all creeds in their love of a common country.
Meanwhile, till a better temper prevails in Ireland, our duty
will be to administer its affairs with justice, firmness, and
wisdom. We must strive to give to just and liberal laws the
same vigour of execution that was once reserved for the
decrees of tyranny. If we are always careful to give no
reality to Irish grievances, we may afford to ignore the mut-
terings of temporary discontent. There will still for a time
be spirits in Ireland whose element is turbulence and sedition,
and who would lament a more blameless administration of
affairs as taking aAvay the pretext and materials of complaint
— men who do not even distantly approach in capacity, or even
in breadth or moderation of view, the great man who disturbed
Ireland for so many years with his passionate but sterile agita-
tion for Repeal. The Government must meanwhile remember
the observation of Mr. Parnell, that ' the Irish are not a
' people to run away from ' — a saying which Mr. Froude inter-
prets, in his rather severe manner, to mean that no people are
ever so easily checked by the prompt, steady, and vigorous
execution of the law. History teaches us how the conflict
which always raged in Ireland between the native principles
and those of a more advanced civilisation— a conflict in which
the smaller island was often too successful in asserting its own
individuality — only prolonged the degradation and misery of
the country. Imperial legislation has now established one
rule for both countries as to law, commerce, and education,
while it has taken just account of original peculiarities in the
constitution of Irish society. The union, so amply justified
on national, geographical, and political grounds, is now
cemented by a million social ties. There must be, in spite of
national movements, no inconsiderable number of Irishmen
capable of apprehending and acknowledging the benefits of
the union wdth this country. But when we remember that
our history, our institutions, our blood, are now essential and
indestructible elements of Irish life, it would be madness to
arrest the civilising influences that are now at work in the
sister country by an attempt to restore a native Parliament.
186 Ancient Animals in Sontli America. Jan.
Art. VII. — 1. Buenos Ai/res and the Provinces of Rio Plata.
By Sir Woodbine Parish, K.C.H. 8vo. London: 1839;
Second Edition, 1851.
2. Blih j)aa Brasiliens Di/recerdenfiJr sidste Jordom-vceltning.
Af Dr. Lund. 4to. Kjobenhavn: 1838.
3. Anales del Museo Publico de Bnenos Ayres. Por el Dr.
BuRMEiSTEK. 4to. Entrega primera, 1864 ; Entrega duo-
decima, 1871.
4. Zoology of the Beagle, Fossil Mammalia. By RlCHARD
Owen. 4to. London : 1839.
5. Descrijjtion of the iSheleton of an Extinct Gigantic Sloth
(Mylodon robnstus). By Richard Owen. 4to. London :
1842.
6. Memoir on the Megatherium. By Richard Owen. 4to.
London: 1860.
Tn a recent historical sketch of the ' Origin and Progress of
-■- ' the Present State of British Geology,' William Smith's
* Geological Map of the Strata of England and Wales,' 1815,
followed, in 1816, by his '■ Strata identified by Organised
* Fossils,' is defined as a ' great discovery,' which threw a new
light on the history of the earth, and as * providing a law
' for the identification of formations Avhich, geographically,
* are often widely separated from each other, not only in Eng-
* land, but also easily applicable to great areas on the neigh-
* bouring continent of Europe.'* In reference to this extension
of the above-cited author's laAV of the determination of strata
by their fossil remains, a passing tribute might have been paid
to a geologist and palaeontologist of a ' neighbouring continent,'
to whom William Smith loyally acknowledges his indebtedness.
In the * Stratigraphical System of Organised Fossils, with
* reference to the Specimens of the Original Geological Col-
* lection in the British Museum, explaining their use in
^ identifying the British Strata,' by William Smith, the author
cites among the Avorks consulted, Cuvier's Geographic Mine-
' ralogique des Environs de Paris,' and ' Les Annales du
' Museum d'Histoire Naturelle.' In the first of these works
the name of the elder Brongniart should be associated with
that cited by William Smitli ; the geologist doubtless depended
in an all-important degree upon the anatomist for the progress
* British Association for the Advancement of Science, Section C,
Geology, ' Opening Address/ by A. C. Eamsay, LL.D., F.R.S., &c. 1881.
1882. Ancient Animals in Soutli America. 187
they conjointly made in the knowledge of the structnrc of the
earth, actual and historical, both as it is and as it had been.
These researches were recorded in the volumes of the ' An-
* nales du Museum,' from their issue in 1795 to the year 1811.
The majority were contributed by Cuvier alone, and it would
be a mistake to suppose that he did not take a full share in the
appreciation of the geological evidences from phenomena apart
from the fossil remains. Cuvier not only indicated the relations
of particular extinct species to particular strata, but discerned
the different dynamics to which such strata owed their for-
mation ; as, for example, when from the summit of Mount
Pierreux, at Fontainebleau, he called the attention of his
companion to the evidences of those strata Avhich owed their
existence to the action of fresh Avaters, and to those that were due
to marine deposits — a recognition of geological dynamics which
Brongniart defined as an inspiration, and accepted as one of
the strongest proofs of the periodicity of the demonstrated
elevations and subsidences of the earth's surface.
The volumes from which William Smith derived his know-
ledge of the fruitful principle of associating the characters of
the fossil remains with geological evidences of strata are those
he cites. They are the volumes Cuvier enriched by the series
of memoirs which, year by year, appeared on the fossil
remains of the tertiary deposits in the Paris basin. By
these, through application of his law of the correlation
of structures in an animal body, and of the subordina-
tion of a given modification of tooth or bone to those of
other parts of the frame, Cuvier not only proved the former
existence of species Avhich had become extinct, but also
the relations of such species as, e.g., the Teleosaurs, the
Palffiotheres, the Mastodons, to diff'erent and definite suc-
cessive strata or formations of the earth's crust, to strata
not only difi^ering in mineral constitution, but as to the period
of their formation and the order of their relative dates.*
* ' Comme on ne peut avoir des notions un pen claires sur I'origine
des OS fossiles qu'autant que Ton connoit bien les couches qui les
recelent, celles qui les couvrent, celles sur lesquelles ils reposent, et
surtout les autres depouilles animales et vegetales dont ces trois ordres
de couches peu.vent etre remplis, il ' (I'Auteur) 'a annexe a son
" Discours preliminaire " tin travail qui lui semble pouvoir servir
d'exemple pour la methode a suivre dans I'etude des couches ; c'est
celui qu'il a fait, avec M. Brongniart, sin- les environs de Paris.'
' Eecherches sur les Ossements Fossiles,' &c., 4to, Paris, 1812,
tome premier ; ' Avertissement ' aii ' Discours Preliminaire sur la
Geographic mineralogique,' p. iii.
188 Ancient Anhnnls in Sontli America. Jan.
These original and remarkable ' Memoirs,' demonstrative of
the fertile principles on which the science of geology is based,
were given to the world in four quarto volumes (Paris, 1812)
five years before the ' Stratigraphical System of Organised
' Fossils, with their Use in identifying the British Strata,' saw
the light. In the year 1811 Cuvier had determined and charac-
terised 158 species, distributed into 50 genera, of which genera
15 were new; and the present activity of what our German
friends have called the ' gattungs-macherei ' would, through
Cuvier's materials alone, considerably add to the number of
such extinct genera, which the more sober estimate of generic
values permitted the great originator of paleontology to
claim as ' new to science.' The influence of this work, with
its notable Preliminary Discourse on the science of geo-
logy, may be estimated by its happy application to that of
the United States of America by Dr. Mitchell. And we may
likewise add the instructive geological Notes appended by
Professor Jameson, of the Edinburgh University, to his trans-
lation of the ' Discours Preliminaire ' for testimony of the status
of Cuvier in the history of geology prior to the publication of
the works of William Smith.
The novelty and unexpected results of these researches and
discoveries of ancient forms of animal life, and their bearing
upon worlds of like antiquity, revived and augmented the
interest in the geographical distribution of animals to which
the eloquent pages of Buffon had called the attention of
naturalists. The predecessor of Cuvier in the Jardin des
Plantes and the Academic des Sciences had shown that
the quadrupeds of South America were distinct from those of
other quarters of the globe, some generically, others speci-
fically. No soliped, or single-hoofed quadruped, horse, ass,
or zebra, was found in America at the period of its discovery ;
no sheep or goat, gazelle, or musk-deer existed there : the
so-called 'Rocky Mountain sheep' of North America is
distinct in kind from that of our pastures. The ox is re-
presented by the bison ; the camel and dromedary of the Old
World are remotely indicated in the New by the llama and
vicugna ; the hog by the peccari; the feline quadrupeds of Asia
and Africa by jaguars, pumas, and ocelots ; the pangolins and
orycteropes by . the hairy toothless anteaters. The very
monkeys of South America are generically distinct from
those of the Asiatic and African forests, and show a lower
step in the scale of life ; the slow lemurs of Madagascar are
still more remotely represented by the sloths ; even the tapir
of South America is a distinct species from that of Sumatra,
1882. Ancient Animals in Soiitk America. 189
and is the largest of the living original South American qua-
drupeds. Some inferiority in either stature or structure
characterises all the indigenous mammals existing in that
continent. Not one of these American species to be found at
the present day is comparable in size to the giraffes, hippopo-
tamuses, rhinoceroses, and elephants of Asia or Africa. And
of the American species referable to the same genera as those
of the Old World, all of the so-called New World are smaller —
the jaguar than the lion or tiger, the peccarl than the wild
boar, the llama than the camel, the howlers and coaitis than
the baboons, orangs, and gorillas.*
Thus the general result of additions to knowledge of the
kinds of animals native to the several larger divisions of the
dry land of the globe is that, in the main, different species
have been allotted, if the expression be permitted by our
evolutionists, to different continents ; and that, as regards
South America, the quadrupeds are not only distinct — some
as to genus, all as to species — from those of Europe, Asia,
and Africa, but are inferior in organisation as well as size
and power. The monkeys that enjoy their existence in the
vast and varied forests of the tropical and warmer parts of
the continent are of lower grade in a dental character than
the Old World Simiadce. Instead of agreeing, as these do,
with the Bimana in the important taxonomic character of
the dental formula, they show a nearer affinity to the lower
quadrupeds, both as to kinds and number of teeth.f
A chief peculiarity of South American mammalian life was,
* Buffon, ' Histoire Naturelle des Animaux,'^4to, tome xiv., 1766.
* Degeneration des Animaux,' p. 361.
f The accomplished author of ' The Natural History of Monkeys,'
&c., in the ' Library of Entertaining Knowledge,' was not aware of the
fact that the genera which he groups under the term ' Simiadoe with
* anthropoid teeth ' differ from the genera grouped under the term
' Simise with anthropoid teeth ' in the following formulse. That of
the latter group is expressed by —
•2.2 1.1 2.2 3.3 oo
*^''^i-TT'i'2-72'''^3T3=32;
that of the SimiadxB of Ogilby is characterised by the formula : —
.2.2 „1. 1^3.3 3.3 Q/.
' 272' ^ iTI' P 373' '« 3—3 = 36.
If the number of teeth becomes, exceptionally in this group, the same
as in mankind, viz., thirty-two, the marmosets show the deficiency by
the loss of a * true molar,' m, on each side of both jaws, but retain the
differential number of the ' false molars,' or premolars, j?, I^^, and so
exemplify their nearer affinity to the Lemuridce.
190 Ancient AnimnU in South America, .Jan.
however, brought before the time of BufFon to zoological
knowledge by Marcgraf * and other contemporary contribu-
tors.f It was strikhigly shown by examples, brought oi-
transmitted to Europe by those early explorers of the Ncav
World, of the singular creatures now known as sloths and
armadillos. No quadrupeds submitted to the philosophic gaze
of Buftbn and the keen scalpel of Daubenton presented more
extraordinary and unexpected organic characters than those
transmitted from South America.
The cold-blooded crocodile and sluggish tortoise might well
be indebted to a kind Nature for defensive armour ; and she
had given to the skin of one rows of bony scutes, and had
invested the other with a coat of mail. But that active, Avarm-
blooded, comparatively intelligent viviparous quadrupeds should
need such armour, and possess it superadded to the special
clothing of their class, the hairs growing freely from every un-
defended portion of the skin, could not have been foreseen or
conceived as among the many modifications of mammalian
structure. Yet such was the spectacle presented by the little
active armadillos which attracted crowds of the gay population
of Paris to witness at the Jardin du Roi their gambols and
their instantaneous enclosure of head and limbs within their
jointed coat of mail when assaulted, presenting an impene-
trable ball of bone to the yelping assailant, and recalling the
defensive manoeuvre and attitude of the spiny hedgehog. More
extraordinary still was the quadruped that could not walk, but
crawled on the ground with outstretched long-clawed hands
and feet, in a much slower and slothful fashion than the grub
or beetle.
Waterton, in his ' Wanderinsjs ' — a work o;lvIno- a livelv
picture of what he noted of the natural histor}^ of the Avoods
and Avilds of South America — first taught us the adaptation of
the structure of the misnamed ' sloth ' to its allotted theatre
of life. This Avas not the earth's surface, nor the AA^aters under
the earth, nor the aerial ocean aloft ; the creature could neither
run nor SAvim nor fly ; but it could climb, and it Avas indeed
the climber pai- excellence. Each limb being terminated by
two or three long and strong hooks, Avith these it could securely
cling to the branches ; along these it moved, often rapidly ;
there Avas nothing slothful in its arboreal mode of progression.
Suspended always Avith its head and trunk dowuAvards, it so
* Hist, rcrum Naturalium Brasilia?, libri 8, fol., 1G48.
t Pisonis ' Hist. NaturtiUs et Medica Indise occidentalis,' libri v.,
1658.
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 191
traversed every branch and part of the tree yielding food by
leaf or fruit. In that clinging attitude it rested, suspending
itself to sleep. Amid the boughs it so lived and bred, the
mother carrying her suckling young securely clinging to her
neck.
Perhaps no part of the earth's surface naturally presents
forests so extensive, so thickly massed, as the warmer latitudes
of South America, well watered by many and broad rivers,
mainly bounded by natural walls of greenery. The sloth,
having exhausted the supply afforded by one tree, and oc-
casionally not helped by parasitic ropes to another, takes ad-
vantage of the storm. When the tropical gale is roaring,
and the branches are wildly Avaviug and crashing against each
other, then is seen the activity it can put forth. The naturalist,
as fearless of falling timber and acutely observant as Water-
ton, then appreciated how libellous was the common name
applied to the quadruped which vindicated its agility by seizing
the branch of the still unplucked tree brought within its
reach, and transferring itself to a new and well-stored habitat.
At the geographical phase of mammalogical lore, so attrac-
tively pictured by the classical pen of Buffon, Cuvier in
1795 commenced the task of interpreting the bony evidences
of o-iants of some kind, the fossil remains of which had at-
tracted the astonished attention of the Spanish colonists of
M(mtc Video and Buenos Ayres. Such evidences had been
revealed in the beds of rivers left dry at their seasons of lowest
level, or accidentally struck upon in occasional excavations of
the soil at greater depth than the needs of the settlers' simple
ao-riculture called for. Some of these fossils coming to the
knowledge and possession of the Viceroy, the Marquis of
Loreto, he transmitted them in 1789 to Madrid, and being
there sorted by an anatomical prosector, sufficient were found
to enable Sr. Jean-Baptiste Bru to build up, or ' articulate,' a
nearly entire skeleton, which is still preserved, and is the most
striking specimen to this day in the Royal Cabinet of Natural
History of that capital. Drawings of this skeleton were en-
o-raved and formed the subject of five plates, which illustrated
a brief 'Descrippion de un Quadrupedo muy corpulento y
' raro,' by Senores Bru and Garriga (foHo, 1796). Prior to
the appearance of this work, impressions of the plates had been
transmitted to the Academie des Sciences, Paris ; they were
submitted to M. Cuvier for a Report thereon, and he felt
himself enabled to determine, notwithstanding its superior size,
the affinities of the huge beast to the diminutive sloths still ex-
isting in, and peculiar to. South America. Cuvier gave to the
192 Ancient Animals in South America. Jan.
extinct animal the name of Meffatherium, but, though it sur-
passed the hippopotamus and rhinoceros in bulk, it did not
attain the dimensions of the elephant. A more perfect skeleton
of the megatherium than that at Madrid is now articulated and
exhibited in the noble gallery appropriated to the Fossil Re-
mains in the Museum of Natural History, Cromwell Gardens.
Great was the surprise, and not small the scepticism, with
which this conclusion of the young founder of palaeontology
was received. The bulk of his megatherium forbade the
notion that it could climb trees, like the living sloths, to feed
on the foliage ; and Cuvier expressed an opinion, since the
teeth of the extinct giant plainly pointed to a vegetable diet,
that it had probably applied its robust fore-feet and huge
tearing claws to dig up roots."^ M. Faujas railed at this con-
clusion of the junior member of the Academy as ' an abuse of
* an artificial method — as one compelling Nature to bow to
* factitious classifications which she never recognised.' The
elder geologist averred also that ' so huge and powerfully
* clawed a beast could not have existed without destroying
* many others, and that it was ridiculous to associate it with
* the sloths — ces etres mallieureux, faibles, indolens^ &c.f In
Germany, Professor Lichtenstein, giving a contemporary
summary of the state of science in France, urged that ' this
* skeleton at Madrid evidently included limb-bones of such
* diversity of size as must have come from different animals,
* and hence that all M. Cuvier's reasonings fell to the ground.'
Now, Cuvier in summing up his observations had alluded
to analogies in the fossil bones which he studied to those of
different genera of the order or group of existing quadrupeds,
which he had called ^ Edentes ' — a group equivalent in the
main to the order Bruta of the system of Linna3us. * Although,'
lie remarked, ' the skull and shoulder-blade of the megatherium
* were those of a sloth, the legs and feet offered the curious
' combination (??ie/fl'?z/7^) of characters peculiar to the ant-eatei*s
' and armadillos.' Whereupon a third critic indulged in the
pleasant remark, that ' all the known edentates of M. Cuvier's
* system might dance at ease within the carcase of his me-
' gathere.'
* * Ses dents prouvent qu'il vivait de veg^taux, et ses pieds de devant,
' robustes et armes d'ongles tranchans, nous font croire que c'etaient
* principalement leurs racines qu'il attaquait.' — Annales du Museum
d'Histoire NaturcUe, torn. v. p. 377 ; and Memoires de TAcademie des
Sciences (Seance d'Avril, 1795).
t Faujas-Saint-Fond, ' Essai de Geologic,' t. i. p. 310, 1795.
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 193
It is well, perhaps, to recall these conditions of contemporary-
thought amid which the young comparative anatomist was
labouring to throw light upon phenomena of Nature which,
prior to his way of interrogation, had suggested little else save
startling announcements of the finding of the bones of some
giant of romance, or one of those that might be posed as a
'homo diluvii testis.' Few, very few, of Cuvier's fellow
Academicians coidd discern in his early ' Memoirs ' the indica-
tions of a new science, most fertile in teaching mankind the
age of their planet, with the ways, the forces, and successive
epochs in and through which the surface now trodden by man
had become such as it is seen to be.
It happened that shortly after the subject of Cuvier's early
Memoir reached Europe, other fossils were found in South
America under circumstances similar to those which had
bi'ousht to lia;ht the bones of the megatherium, but which
consisted of portions, more or less complete, of a bony cuirass,
big enough to have fitted the back of the extinct ' gigantic
* sloth.' Cuvier, accordingly, in the second edition (1822) of
his great work, composed mainly of his previous successive Me-
moirs in the Annales du Museum, appends a Note on these
discoveries, which had been communicated to him by M. Au-
guste St. Hilaire, and which announced, he writes, ' that the
* megatherium had pushed its affinities to the armadillos so
* far as to be covered, like them, with a scaly cuirass,' * This
opinion was adopted by Professor Desmarests in the article ' Me-
* gathere ' of the Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles, 1823.
It seemed also to derive confirmation from a description by
Professor Weiss, of Berlin, of portions of an osseous tesselated
armour of some gigantic quadruped, discovered (1826) in the
* Banda Oriental,' South America, by the traveller Sellow,
transmitted by him to Berlin, f and referred to the mega-
therium.
About this period Great Britain was fortunately represented
at Buenos Ayres by a gentleman as accomplished in diplo-
macy as he was distinguished by his enlightened interest in
taking advantage of every opportunity of his position to
promote natural knowledge. With his original observations
on the geological features of the Para})a formation, given in
his work ' On Buenos Ayres,' Sir Woodbine Parish adds an
* ' Recherches sur lea Ossements Fossiles,' 4to, ed. 1822-3, tome v.,
pt. 1, p. 285.
\ Weiss, Abhandlungen der Konigl. Akaderaie der Wissenschaften
zu Berlin, ' Megatherium,' p. 6, 4to, 1827.
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. O
194 Ancient Animals in South America. Jan.
Appendix by Professor Owen, containing the description of a
drawing; transmitted to him by Sir Woodbine of a ' monster
' found on the bank of a rivulet near the Rio Matanza, about
* twenty miles to the south of the city of Buenos Ayres,
* about five feet below the surface.' With this drawing a
tooth of the same animal was fortunately transmitted to our
then young professor. He instituted a comparison of this
tooth with those of the megatherium, of Avhlch fossil animal
Sir Woodbine Parish had also sent an instructive collection
of bones to the Royal College of Surgeons m London, sup-
plying important parts and facts, completing and, in some
particulars, correcting the original Cuvierian Memoir.* Mr.
Owen demonstrated the generic distinction indicated by the
comparison of these teeth, and pointed out the nearer resem-
blance of the tooth he had received to those of the armadillos.
The bony dermal covering agreed also in its composition of a
mosaic of ossicles Avith that of the small existing mailed qua-
drupeds, but the drawing of the cuirass transmitted showed no
division into rings allowing of any flexure of the coat of mail.
The result was the announcement that there had existed in
South America a giant of the armadillo family, as well as one
of the sloth tribe ; and for the former the name of Glyptodon,
or sculptured-tooth, was proposed. The author remarks that
' the form and structure of the tooth indicate its adaptation to
' masticate vegetable substances, and that it is more corapli-
' cated in shape than those of any recent or extinct species of
' the order Bruta hitherto discovered.' Two views of the
fossil tooth and a reduced copy of the drawing are given in
the work by Sir Woodbine Parish which stands at the head of
this article.
Nevertheless, it continued to be believed that later additions
to the evidences of the extinct quadruped received in 1795
tended mainly to add a bony armour to Cuvier's gigantic
sloth. The pala^ontological naturalist, or student of the
evidences of extinct species, has a harder task than the
zoological one, who deals with specimens of existing kinds.
The late learned Professor of Natural History in the Uni-
versity College, London, in the lecture reported in the
Lancet, March 22, 1834, describes the megatherium as
' allied in structure to the bradypus, and shielded with
* cutaneous plates like the dasypus.' And thus it seemed to
* These fossils formed the subject of the excellent paper by Wm.
Cliit, F.R.S., in the ' Transactions of the Geological Society,' vol. iii.,
Bccond series, 4to, 1835.
il
1882. Ancient Animals in ISouth, America. 195
offer to the evolutionists the example of ' a more generalised
* structure.' Professor de Blainville, moreover, who succeeded
Cuvier in the chair of Comparative Anatomy in the Jardin
des Plantes, and who omitted no opportunity to prove his prede-
cessor in the wrong, rejecting the inference of any resemblance
or affinity to the sloths, affirmed that the ' so-called mega-
* therium is proved to have been certainly covered by an
* osteo-dermai carapace, by the disposition of the spinous
* processes of the vertebrae, by the angles of the ribs, and by
* the articulation of the pelvis with the vertebral column ; '
and he concludes by the dictum ex cathedra., ' that the mega-
* therium was a gigantic species of armadillo, most nearly
* allied to the diminutive chlamyphorus.*
It is true that this existing species of armadillo, as Mr.
Yarrell had pointed out, wore a coat of mail without the joints
which had earned for its congeners the specific names of tri-
cinctus, septem-cinctus, novem-cinctus, &c., according as the
coat of mail was provided with and interrupted by moveable
cross-bands of bony pieces three, seven, or nine in number.
No wonder, therefore, that under this weight of evidence the
brief notice of an actual gigantic extinct armadillo in the
appendix to an octavo volume on a more general topic was
overlooked, and that the megatherium was introduced to the
readers of an attractive and popular ' Bridiiewater Treatise '
as having been defended by a bony tessellated armour, and
that they were assured that ' a covering of such enormous
* weight would have been consistent with the general structure
* of the megatherium ; its columnar hind legs and colossal
' tail were calculated to give it due support ; and the strength
* of the loins and ribs, being very much greater than in the
' elephant, seems to have been necessary for carrying so
' ponderous a cuirass as that which we suppose to have
* covered the body.'* We may remark that Cuvier drew no
such inferences from the parts of the skeleton above referred
to, and those of Dr. Buckland are here quoted because, as we
shall presently see, they were well worthy of the consideration
of the physiologist, and indeed a different interpretation has been
given of them which seems to have commanded general assent.
The comparative anatomist who had concluded from the
characters of a tooth that the armour of which a drawing had
been transmitted to him had not covered a gigantic sloth, but
an armadillo of nearly equal bulk, now felt it incumbent
* * Geology and Mineralogy considered in reference to Natural
* Theology.' By the Rev. Dr. Buckland, F.E.S., F.R.S., &c.
196 Ancient Animals in South America. Jan.
upon him to study afresh the parts of the megatherian
framework on which Buckland and De Blainviile had based
their conclusions ; the more so as he had been enabled to
compare those parts with corresponding fossils discovered, in
association with portions of bony armour, in the bed of a
rivulet at Villanueva, Monte Video, which Sir Woodbine
Parish had subsequently transmitted to the Royal College of
Surgeons in London. The results of the comparisons of
these remains with the skeletons of existing sloths and arma-
dillos w^ere communicated in a notable Memoir, read and
discussed at the meeting of the Geological Society of London,
March 23, 1839.^
Taking the dorsal vertebras of the recent armadillo, the
author pointed out their peculiar structure, and the relation of
the bony pillars diverging obliquely from the median upright
spine, and of equal length therewith, to the support of the
superincumbent cuirass ; the oblique processes Avere shown to
correspond in form and use Avith the ' tie-bearers ' in the
architecture of a roof; and, besides that office, another pur-
pose Avas obtained by extension of their base. *' The ordinary
' spinous process transmits the superincumbent Aveight simply
* to the vertebra from Avhich it springs ; but the oblique pro-
' cesses transmit the Aveight ])artly to the vertebra to which
* they belong, and partly to the vertebra next in front, be-
' cause one half of their base is extended over the hinder
' oblique processes of the adjoining vertebra.'! The corre-
sponding bones of the megatherium showed no such structure ;
they resembled in this relation the vertebrae of the sloths.
So, likewise, as to the bearing on the armour question of
the bones of the limbs : the differences of structure Avere
pointed out between the megathere and the sloth on the one
hand, and the glyptodon and the armadillo on the other.
The ' Paper,' in fact, Avas decisive. Dr. Buckland, who
Avas present, accepted both facts and conclusions Avith charac-
teristic candour, nor has the question of the coexistence of
both gigantic sloths and gigantic armadilloes in ancient periods
in the South American continent been since contested. On
the contrary, it has received unexpected corroboration from
subsequent discoveries of other extinct species of both genera.
* ' Description of a Tooth and Part of the Skeleton of the Glyptodon
' clavipes, &c., Avith a Consideration of the Question Avhether the
' ]\Iegatlierin!n possessed an analogous Dermal Armour.' By R. Owen,
1' .R.S., F.G.S.
•j" Trans. Geological Society, second series, vol. vi. p. 100.
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 197
well described and figured in the work of Burmeister. The
entire skeleton — e?ido and exo — representing a gigantic ' hog
* in armour,' now attracts the wondering gaze of the visitors
to the instructive museum in Cromwell Road, and we are
tempted to condense the explanations which are afforded by
the officer to whom mainly the public are indebted to this
storehouse of the national treasures of natural history.
The framework of the head of the glyptodon is, rela-
tively to the size of the animal, the most massive — taking
the casque, with the endoskeletal part — of any known mammal.
So far as relates to the joint between the occiput and foremost
neck-bone, and to that between the ' atlas ' and ' axis,' or
second neck-bone, the head must have been limited to some
minor movements, with a slight amount of rotation. The
main movements were in one plane, up and down, like those
of the fore-limb of a horse, and the framework of these move-
ments consists of two long bones and one short bone, connect-
ing the head with the trunk. What may be termed, in rela-
tion to the latter, the ' proximal ' of these ' long ' bones con-
sists of the last (seventh) neck bone, or vertebra, and the first
and second dorsal vertebras, welded together with the ribs of
the latter into a single mass. It answers teleologically to the
' humerus ' in a horse. The second bone, like the equine ulna,
is of greater length, and consists of five coalesced vertebrae,
viz., the second to sixth cervical ones inclusive ; it is a * five-
* vertebral bone.' The distal segment (from the trunk) is the
shortest, and consists of the foremost vertebra of the neck.
Now, the singularly developed dermal armour of the glypto-
donts — for they are grown to a numerous family since 1838 —
was defensive against other than passive assaults, such as the
fall of timber. Palaeontology has shown that a carnivorous
quadruped as big as a lion and called ' sabre-toothed ' {mackai-
rodus) because of its proportionally longer and sharper laniary
or ' canine ' teeth, forming part of a typical feline dentition,
was a contemporary of the glyptodonts, and with them has
happily become extinct. We shall see in the above-noted
mechanism of the movements of a helmeted head the relation
of the defensive armour of the weaponless vegetarian to the
deadly assaults of such a carnivore. The trunk of the glyp-
todon was amply provided with an arched bony covering of
coi-responding size, slightly convex lengthwise, sufficiently
convex transversely to form both roof and side-walls. It
needed only for the assaulted animal to bend its short equal
fore and hind limbs within the carapace, and sink the latter
over them, to have both body and feet protected. But how
198 Aiicieiit Animals m South America. Jan.
about the tail ? The tortoise can twist its short caudal
appendagce within the hind slit of its bony box ; not so the
glvptodon. Its tail is relatively longer and larger, and it
has its own special armour of defence ; a series, namely, of
thick bony rhigs, jjresenting to the teeth of an assailant an
impenetrable crust, and, in some species, a further defence of
stout horn-like spines. And now for the head, the part con-
taining the most precious vital organs of ihe beast. That
also is provided with a bony covering, superadded to the skull,
applied like a casque to the upper surface, not extending so
far forward as to interfere with the movements of a flexible
snout, nor so far down each side as to act as ' blinders.' The
front aperture of the body-dome is shaped and proportioned
so as to alloAv the casque to fit it close, like a lid. The joint
between the short and thick ' proximal,' quasi ' humeral,' por-
tion of the head-limb and the trunk is what the anatomist
calls a ' trochlear ' one ; so likewise are the joints between
the * humeral ' and quasi ' ulnar ' segments and also that ' short-
* est segment articulated with the skull.' These joints limit
the movements of the skull they support to one plane, upward
and downward. By the downward movement the head of the
glyptodon was brought within the front entry of the body
armour, which entry became closed by the casque as by a
door. The hind aperture of the body-dome fits just so much of
the circumference of the fore ring of the tail-sheath as to equally
baffle an assailant of the great crouching armadillo.
The megatherium being finally despoiled of its armour, what,
it might be asked, would be the nature of its defence against
such a fierce and predacious assailant as that to which its
contemporary offered a passive resistance ? Whoever gazes at
the three long, large, curved, sharp-pointed claws, though
represented only by the ' fossilisable cores ' which sustained
and wielded those horny weapons, will admit that the great
Unguiculate must have been more than a match for the sabre-
toothed ticcer.
The largest of the existing ant-eaters of South America has
no better defensive covering than the megathere possessed ;
yet the jaguar and the puma find in the clavfs of 7ni/?-mecophaga
juhata the weapons of an opponent with which they do not
willingly engage in fair combat. The ant-eater may be
Avounded, even severely ; yet such is its tenacity of life and
muscular grip that the strongest of its carnivorous assailants,
once seized, is only released when death has relaxed the forces
wielding its offensive weapons.
No subjects in existing nature could have afforded Paley
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 199
such striking instances of adaptation to needs as the fossil
framework of the great extinct armadillos has revealed to its
physiological reconstructors ; for not only has the restoration
of whatever could be conserved of these huo;c and strange
creatures been complete, but many species with more than
mere specific modifications have beeu brought to light chiefly
by the co-operation of the Danish and German palaeontologists —
Lund and Burmeister — with Parish and the English compara-
tive anatomists, to whom our former Minister at Buenos Ayres
had transmitted his acquisitions.
Similar progress has been made in a knowledge of both the
nature and number of the great extinct sloths of South
America. It was evident, at first view of the skull and teeth,
that the megatherium had been a vegetarian. Cuvier, as we
have seen, concluded from the structure of the limbs that this
diet was supplied by roots ; his ' racines ' not meaning, it may be
supposed, the innutritions dense and woody ramifications of
the imbedded foundations of forest-trees, but those succulent
kinds afforded by the bulbous families of plants. Destruction
of the bulb, however, implies that of the plant, and the number
requisite for the sustentation of the frame of so enormous an
uprooter must soon have become a condition of the starving
out of the species. Subsequent palaeontologists, therefore, sug-
gested other hypotheses.
Dr. Lund, whose work is cited at the head of this article,
a Danish liaturalist long resident in the Brazils, and engaged
in the exploration of the caves of that country, collected a
rich series of the remains of its extinct beasts, now in the
Museum at Copenhagen. In regard to the megatherium,
adopting the Cuvierian view of its affinities, Lund conceived
that it must have fed on fruits and foliage ; that it climbed
trees like the small sloths of the present day ; and that so huge
and heavy a beast was, therefore, provided with a supplemen-
tary climbing organ, not possessed by its diminutive con-
geners, viz., a long and powerful prehensile tail. To the ob-
jection of the inadequacy of most of the branches of the exist-
ing; forest-trees to sustain the enormous wei2;ht of the
hypothetical despoiler of the foliage, Lund replied, that it
would be consistent with analogy to assume that the trees of
the antediluvian New World might have borne a proportional
size to the huge sloths which, with them, had become extinct.
And this conjecture proves not to be so far-fetched by the
subsequently discovered sequoian giants of Californian forests,
some of which could doubtless have carried more than one
200 Ancient Animals in South America. Jan,
megathere if the resinous hard-scaled cones and filaraentary
foliage had been any temptation to such supposed climber.
De Blainville, however, rejected the scansorial hypothesis
together with the leafy food; and, with consistent antagonism
to his predecessor, denied the inference from the jaws and teeth
as to a vegetable diet of any kind. Confounding the megathe-
rium with the glyptodon as one and the same species of animal,
he writes : ' D'apres cela il est plus que probable que ces
* animaux ne grimpent pas aux arbres, qu'ils n'avaient pas de
* trompe, mais qu'ils avaient les mcEurs et les habitudes des
' tatous ' (armadillos), ' et par consequent ils se nourrissaient
' de chair, et peut-etre aussi de raciues.' *
These divers and conflicting hypotheses led our own palae-
ontologist, after determining the distinction between gigantic
sloths and armadillos, to a repeated and close study of the
complete series of the megatherian remains with which
the British Museum and the Royal College of Surgeons had
become enriched. And we know not how better or more briefly
to place his conclusions before our readers than by giving a con-
densed recollection of the demonstration, to which we were
favoured to listen, of the adaptation of the perfect skeleton to
the mode of life of the megatherium, noAv exhibited in the
new Museum in Cromwell Gardens. Pointing to the hind
foot, the Professor remarked that though it had, like the
existing sloths, but three toes, two of these — the outer ones —
were deprived of claws and terminated in rough stumpy ends,
indicating that they had been imbedded in a sort of hoof, which,
through the partial inversion of the foot, would be applied to the
ground in the progressive movements of a terrestrial quadruped.
The innermost of the three toes, saved by this inversion from
the wear of walking, was developed for carrying and using an
enormous subcompressed but deep and sharp-pointed claw.
Why should the strong and massive hind-limb have but one
claw to wield ? Because it was used as a pickaxe. No one
applying such tool to dig away the earth from the interstices
of a tree's root would have it with two or more blades. Roots
being exposed and detached from the soil were not disturbed
by the megatherium for the purjiose of being eaten, but as a
preliminary for prostrating the tree, the foliage of which was
coveted by the uprooter. What then was the mechanism for
hauling down a giant of the forest ? A firm basis for the appli-
* ' Recherches sur I'anciennetc des Edentes terrestres ii la surface de
* la terre,' Comptes Rendus de TAcademie des Sciences, Paris, 1839,
p. 05.
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 201
cation of the grasping organs was essential- The Archimedean
irov cTTco of the raegathere was a tripod formed of a pair of the
most massive hind-limbs in nature, which, though shorter than
those of the elephant, were of more than twice the circumference,
with a tail to match. This appendage, not present in existing
sloths, was added to their type of limb-structure, of length and
massiveness on a par with the hind legs, and with fii-m joints
not susceptible of inflection for grasping, but able to bear the
strain of pressure. Upon this tripod the huge pelvis, also far
surpassing in size that of the elephant, was firmly sustained
when the giant sloth raised himself to grapple with the trunk
of the tree whose roots he had exposed. What relation had the
size of the pelvis to this work ? It gave origin to a pair of
immense muscular analogues of what is called in other beasts
•
the ' latissimus dorsi.' The thick rugged border of the arched
iliac bones bespeaks the unusual development of those muscles j
and their attachments to the fore-limbs on which they had to
operate were of a kind to match the bony developments for
their origins. The grasped tree had to be pulled backward,
and, for due attachment of the insertional tendons of the
hauling muscles, not one, but two, crests of the blade-bones were
developed, besides proportional ridges on the arm-bones. The
provision for the grasping-machinery is as follows : the hoof at
the outer border of the fore-foot was limited to one roughened
digit, the weight of the fore-part of the body being less than that
of the hind-part ; three other digits are developed and armed
like the single unguiculate one of the hind-foot. Their work
was of another kind — to secure a firm grasp of the trunk of the
tree whose roots had previously been exposed and more or less
loosened from the soil. The varied movements in swaying to
and fro the tree thus grasTDcd called for an ora;anisation of the
fore-limb more complex than that in existing elephants and
rhinoceroses, and it combines all the modifications save one
which make the arm and hand of man so fitted for their mani-
fold applications. The megatherium had no opposable thumb,
the uses of its hand were mainly in grasping ; but the varied
directions in which the hauling power had to be applied called
for all the other bimanous perfections of the limbs immediately
exerted by the grappler.
Prior to the discovery of the megathere, man was the largest
of mammals possessing the collar-bones. Had the clavicle only
of the great sloth been found, it would have been a better
foundation for the inference of the giants of old than any of
those on which the early investigators of fossil remains based
their evidence of these subjects of fable. The megathere's
202 Ancient Animals in South America. Jan,
collar-bone has tlie same slight ' sigmoid ' bends, the same per-
lect articulation with the breast-bone at one end and the blade-
bone at the other. Many of the smaller quadrupeds have
clavicles as complete ; they are those in which, as in monkeys,
the fore -limbs are applied to many other uses than support
and j)rogression. The clavicles act as buttresses to the joints
of the arm-bones with the blade -bones ; they give the needed
stability and resistance to the cup in which the ball at the top
of the humerus rotates. True it is that the use of the
tridactyle paw in the present hypothesis is reduced to that
of grasping. But its application for that purpose needed
to be varied according to the directions of swaying, of re-
sistance, of yielding of the tree to prostrate which the four-
footed giant was putting forth all his mighty strength. Ac-
cordingly the elbow-joint of the megatherium shows all the
complex and beautiful adaptation of ' radius ' to ' ulna,' and of
both bones to ' humerus,' which the corresponding parts of the
human skeleton exhibit. The fore-limb had not only the
movement to and fro in one plane, as in the existing hoofed
quadrupeds, but the fore-foot, paw, or hand, could be rotated
— turned in those directions which the physiologist terms
' pronation ' and ' supination.'
It is a grand picture to present to the mind this old-world
wood-beast tugging, riving, and swaying the root-loosened
tree until the crash of prostration echoed through the primeval
forest. The characteristic of tropical and sub-tropical South
America is still its vast and almost interminable woods. The
soil and climate favour the rapid germination and groAvth of
whatever seeds find space for development. One is naturally
curious to discover indications in its fossil remains of the Avays
in which the great ground-sloth set to work to enjoy the leaves
now brought more or less within its reach. Branches could
be readily torn off by the instrument that brought down the
tree. But if the paw could only roughly grasp the trunk and
larger branches, how did the animal strip the smaller ones, and
bring to mouth the coveted foliage ?
Here the demonstration grew in interest. Our Professor
explained that the lingual nerve of motion and that of sensa-
tion, arising from different parts of the brain of the sloth,
as in other mammals, have each its distinct and peculiar exit
from the skull. The hole transmitting the ' motor ' nerve
to the tongue (then moving for our instruction) escaped,
we were told, by what in human anatomy is called the
* anterior condyloid foramen.' Our comparative osteologist
had observed that it was of unusual size in beasts such as the
1882. Ancient Animals in South America. 203
ant-eater and giraffe, which have tongues of unusual length,
muscularity, and mobility. The corresponding foramen Avas
considerably larger in the megatherium. So complete is the
skeleton, the subject of the demonstration, that the bones of
the tongue — ' hyoidean ''■ — are also preserved, and show a cor-
responding proportional relation to a powerful muscular tongue.
But of what shape might have been the perishable part of the
organ ? Our attention was directed to the curious forward
production of the lower jaw in front of the part supporting the
teeth. It is like a long spout, and is hollowed out above into
a smooth semi-cylindrical canal. Along this canal a rope-like
tongue, of size to match, could be protruded and retracted,
gliding ' to and fro.' The indicated shape is that of the pre-
hensile tongue of the giraffe. The moving fibres, according
to their nerve supply, must have formed a mass of at least
twice the size of that in the tongue of the great browsing
ruminant. The giraffe obtains its coveted foliage by its length
of limbs, of neck, and the build of the trunk from which the
long neck springs. The megatherium, with broad, robust
proportions, and raised rump, contrasting with the light and
slender frame of the large existing leaf-eater, applied a similar
prehensile organ to the foliage brought in another way within
the reach of its mobile, flexible tongue. Of the adaptation of
its teeth to mastication of its food nothing need be said ; their
cross-ridges remind one of the elephant's grinders.
When this novel explanation of the megatherian fossils
was submitted to the judgment of fellow-interpreters of organic
remains, it was subjected to the usual healthy truth-testing
questions and objections, one only of which, however, was
deemed to have a claim to some measure of validity. ' How,'
asked Dr. Buckland, ' could the beast avoid having its head
' broken if it were condemned to get its living by pulling
' down trees ? ' To this the propounder of the theory could
only reply that he supposed, by instinct and practice, the
megatherium had learned to dodge a dangerous bough of the
falling timber.
A year had not elapsed when the bones of another megathe-
rioid of somewhat smaller species than Cuvier's reached Eng-
land; they had been discovered in fluviatile deposits of the
Rio Plata, seven leagues north of the city of Buenos Ayres,
when Sir Woodbine Parish was H.M.'s Charge d' Affaires.
With his wonted zeal and tact Sir Woodbine induced the
finder to sell the specimens, and they were purchased, at
the recommendation of the Curator and Hunterian Professor,
by the Council of the Eoyal College of Surgeons, in whose
204 Ancient Animal h in South America. Jan.
instructive museum they are now exhibited, articulated, as an
almost perfect skeleton. Conceive our Professor's surprise and
})leasure when he discovered evidences of two distinct frac-
tures of the skull, neither of them due to injury in the exhu-
mation or package of the fossils, but both plainly inflicted
during the lifetime of the animal. One of the fractures, at the
fore and upper part of the cranium, four inches in length, had
completely healed — a luiique pathological specimen in the
Surgeons' collection ; the other, over the hind part of the
skull, was a more extensive smash, yet attempts at healing
had followed, and new bone had been partially formed ; evi-
dence of inflammation and suppuration in the cellular subjacent
structures was detected, and the Professor's opinion is that
the animal had finally succumbed to this injury.
But might not these fractures of the skull have been made
by blows of an enemy — by the club of an Indian, for
example, if such prehistoric hunter had coexisted with the
great sloths, or by a blow inflicted by the fore-paw of the
great extinct feline, certainly a contemporary ? The response
of our physiologist was as follows :• — Either of these fractures
is of an extent and kind indicative that the blow inflicting
it must have stunned the beast ; it would have fallen in a state
as helpless as the ox prostrated by the butcher, and death-
wounds would have ensued, placing the carcase at the disposal
of the hypothetical flesh-eating assailant had such a one dealt
the primary blow. And if the fossil skull had presented evi-
dence of recent fracture the inference would have been that it
had not survived the injury. The existing sloth is remarkable
for its tenacity of life : the extinct one, after lying stunned
for some time, recovered, shook its head, and returned to its
usual way of daily life. It survived long enough after the
first accident for com])lete healing to ensue, nor did it imme-
diately perish after receiving the second stunner. Therefore
the inference is that both blows were inflicted by a passive or
inanimate force, and most probably by that which the inge-
nuity of Buckland conceived to be a proper consequence of the
way of work by which it was suggested that the megatherioids
got their living.
1882. Parliamentarij Procedure. 205
Art. VIII. — 1. Reports from the Select Committees of the
House of Commons on Public Business in the years 1837,
1848, 1854, 1857, 1861, 1869, 1871, and 1878.
2. Reform of Procedure in Parliament to clear the Block of
House of Commons Business. By W. M. Torrens, M.P.
London: 12mo. 1881.
3. Parliamentary Procedure. A Paper read at the Annual
Provincial Meeting of the Incorporated Law Society of
the United Kingdom, on October 11, 1881, by W. T.
Manning.
'TIhe House of Commons was startled last session by the
Speaker suddenly rising in the course of a debate and
putting the question before the House for its decision, that
the debate be at once terminated without further discussion.
The House was fairly taken by surprise. A faint attempt to
challenge the Speaker's proceeding was ineffectually made,
and the incident ended. One or two members had during
the Recess been exercising their ingenuity in the endea-
vour to discover precedents for the exercise of such a power,
and they averred that they had disinterred certain ancient
rules of the House, which had been lying buried for centuries
past, conferring such a power on the Speaker. It was affirmed,
however, that they were viewed with disfavour by the Speaker
himself, who did not interpret them in the sense which the
discoverers sought to place upon them. The question was,
therefore, relegated to its original position, and the House
relapsed into that state of suffering endurance from which
there appeared to be no deliverance. Here was a Nasmyth-
hammer power which, whilst it could crack the nut of indi-
vidual transgression of the rules of Parliament, could equally,
with one blow, smash the Parliamentary machine itself by
putting an end to the debate at the will and pleasure of the
Chair.
This occurrence proved, however, that the Speaker of the
House of Commons has powers larger than those which Sir
Henry Brand and his immediate predecessors have cared to
exercise, and if the question could be settled by precedents
from the reigns of the Tudors and the Stuarts, it might be
more easily dealt with. But these historical investigations
are of little real assistance. We want to know, not what was
done two or three centuries ago, but what should be done now
to restore to the House of Commons its full efficiency and
power, and to deliver it from an incubus more formidable
206 Parliamentary Procedure. Jan.
than the ancient prerogatives of the Crown. We therefore
hail ^vith the utmost satisfaction the declaration already made
by Ministers, that the reform of procedure in Parliament will
bo the first subject to which the attention of the House of
Commons will be directed in the ensuing Session. This Journal
may claim a long priority in dealing with these questions.
An article on ' The Machinery of Public Legislation ' ap-
peared in our pages in January, 1854,* and another article on
' Private Bill Legislation ' in January, ISoo.f We venture
to say that these articles, proceeding, as they did, from writers
of the highest authority, and perfectly conversant with the
subject, are exhaustive ; and it is mortifying to reflect that
seven or eight and twenty years have elapsed without any
serious effort to remedy evils which have in the meantime
grown to an intolei'able excess. From the year 1837 to the
year 1878, Committees have sat upon the business of the
House, with the result that infinitesimal reforms have been
adopted. The irregularity of Parliamentary proceedings has
increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished. The
House of Commons has set itself to the task of investigating
and prescribing remedies for the evils Avhich have gradually
developed themselves — with the imperfect success, however,
which the existing condition of the House, and the paralysis
of business, abundantly testify.
We propose to lay before our readers some of the acknow-
ledged results of these enquiries, and we shall avail ourselves
also of the spirited and able volume which Mr. Torrens has
just published, for it is one of the best of his literary produc-
tions, full of Irish vivacity and English experience, and likewise
of an address delivered by Mr. W. Manning to the Incor-
porated Law Society of the United Kingdom. The sug-
gestions of these gentlemen are valuable, and concur in many
respects with those originated long ago by ourselves. But the
main source of information is to be found in the evidence
taken on several occasions by committees of the House itself.
Yet although, at the expiration of nearly forty-five years, the
evil, so far from diminishing, has gone on increasing, no
sooner is a remedy proposed than a hundred voices are raised
against it, and the sacred rights of minorities to overbear
majorities and obstruct the business of the House by mter-
rainable talk are invoked in support of rules devised for a far
* Edinburgh Review, vol. xcix. p. 243. This article has recently
been reprinted by Mr. Rathbone.
I Edinburgh Review, vol. ci. p. 151.
1882. Parliamentary Procedure. 207
different body of men from the present obstructionists of the
House of Commons.
In 1837 the same despairing cry went up from the House of
Commons demanding a remedy for the evils which still exist.
The Committee appointed in that year to consider the best
means of conducting the public business with improved regu-
larity and despatch, reported that they were of opinion that
they should best discharge the duty assigned to them by an
attempt to trace the causes to which the unsatisfactory con-
dition in which the public business avowedly was might be
attributed ; that it was almost unnecessary for them to show by
any reference to the state of the business that the evil existed ;
that the appointment of the Committee was sufficient evidence
that in the opinion of the House this was the case, and the
daily experience of every member or the most cursory glance
at the order book established the fact. The Committee pro-
ceeded to point out that it was the undoubted privilege of
every member to interpose any amendment that he might think
fit, even without notice, upon any occasion whatever; but this
privilege, conferred for purposes of public utility, was clearly
only intended to be practically taken advantage of in cases
of extreme importance. It was obvious that it would be better to
dismiss from the standing orders the rule giving orders of the
day precedence to notices on certain days, than to go through
the mockery of first enacting and then upon every trifling
question violating it, and the Committee recommended the
House to interfere to compel a rigorous observance of the rule
laid down.
The Committee of 1861, in their Report, referring to the
Reports of the Committees of 1837, 1848, and 1854, state
that on all these occasions the House and its Committees have
proceeded with the utmost caution. They have treated with
respect the written and the unwritten law of Parliament,
which for ages has secured a good system of legislation,
perfect freedom of debate, and a due regard for the rights
of minorities. This respect for tradition, and this caution
in making changes, have proceeded on the principle that no
change is justifiable which experience has not proved to be
necessary ; and that the maintenance of the old rules is pre-
ferable to new and speculative amendments.
The Speaker, Mr. Charles Shaw Lefevre, in his evidence
before the Committee of 1848, said: —
' The attention of the Committee should be specially directed to mo-
tions to adjourn the House and to adjourn the debate. These motions
he considered as the great interruptions to the course of business ; and
208 .Parliamentary Procedure. Jan.
he suggested that all (juestions of adjournment of the House and ad-
iournment of debate should be decided without debate. Under this
rule a member would no longer have any inducement to move the ad-
journment for the purpose of making a speech or some extraneous
matter (as is now so often the case), as the questions must be decided
without debate. Great advantage would result from this change ; it
would in truth only carry into effect the intentions of the House. The
rules of the House provide that on days called order days, certain orders
shall be considered ; and on days called notice days, notices of motions
shall be considered. If members can move the adjournment of the
House without any notice of any sort, and upon that question may de-
hate any other question, it is evident that all the regulations adopted
for the conduct of the business of the House may be rendered quite
ineffectual.'
He proposed that the following rules should be adopted : —
' 1. That every motion for the adjournment of the House which shall
be made before the business of the day has been disposed of, and every
motion for the adjournment of a debate, shall be proposed and seconded
and the question thereupon decided by the House without debate.
2. That no such motion shall be repeated within one hour after either of
such motions shall have been withdrawn, or a question thereupon shall
have been resolved in the negative. 3. That no division shall be per-
mitted upon any such question unless twenty-one members by standing
up in their places shall declare themselves with the ayes. 4. That in
Committee of the whole House every motion that the Chairman do re-
port progress, or that the Chairman do now leave the chair, be made,
and every question thereupon decided by the Committee without de-
bate ; and that no division shall be permitted upon any such question,
unless twenty-one members, by standing up in their places, shall de-
clare themselves with the ayes. And 5, that before the order of the
day for resuming an adjourned debate is read, it shall be competent
for any member who shall have given due notice of his intention to
move, " That svich debate shall not be fui-ther adjourned," and such
question shall be decided by the House without debate, and no amend-
ment shall be made thereto ; and if the same shall have been resolved
in the affirmative, and the debate shall not have closed before two
o'clock in the morning, no member shall rise to speak after that hour,
but Mr. Speaker shall put the question.'
The Committee reported that it was not so much on any
new rules, especially restrictive rules, that the Committee
desired to rely for the prompt and efficient despatch of business
by the House. The increasing business called for increased
consideration on the part of members in the exercise of their
individual privileges. The Committee desired to rely on the
good feeling of the House, on the forbearance of its members,
and on a general acquiescence in the enforcement by the
Speaker of that established rule of the House which required
1882. Parliamentary Procedure. 209
that members should strictly confine themselves to matters
immediately pertinent to the subject of debate. The experi-
ence of recent Sessions has unfortunately shown the futility
of the hope thus expressed, and has sufficiently demonstrated
that there is a class of members who are restrained by no
considerations of decorum or even decencies of debate, and
whom it is therefore necessary to restrain by putting them to
silence, unless the House is to lapse into chaos.
Lord Eversley, in hiy evidence before the Committee of 1854,
said —
■ In all the improvements we have made in the conduct of public
business, we have endeavoured as much as possible to let the House
understand exactly what questions they will have to discuss, and to
prevent surprises, and also to give some certainty to our proceedings.'
Mr. Speaker Denison said
' that the most important thini^ to which the attention of this Com-
mittee can be directed is cerfainty, day by day, so far as it is possible,
as to the biisiness to be transacted ; and that for the despatch, for the
convenience of members, and for decorum of things, certainty is to be
regarded as the primary object.'
How, it may be asked, can these objects be secured under
the present practice, when, by an abuse of the forms of the
House, debates on the most important subjects are initiated
without notice on motions for adjournment, frequently made
at the time of questions to Ministers ?
Repeated motions for adjournments which have been pre-
viously rejected by overwhelming majorities are a scandal to
the House, and an intolerable oppression on the part of mino-
rities, against which, more than against majorities, a remedy
has to be applied if the House is to remain master of its own
proceedings. Mr. Speaker Denison, in his evidence before
the Committee of 1871, stated that in the previous Session
no fewer than five working days \vere occupied in taking
divisions. In the last Session seventeen working days were
engrossed in this process alone. This evil is aggravated by
the slow and tedious process by which all divisions are now
taken, each of them occupying from twenty to thirty minutei^.
If divisions on a motion for adjournment were taken, as a
rule, by simply counting the members who support the motion
in their places, and without debate, they would cease to be
made as an instrument of obstruction.
Another great cause of delay is, the numerous stages through
which every public Bill has to pass. There are still fourteen
questions necessarily put upon every public Bill, exclusive of
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. P
210 Parliamentary Procedure. Jan,
the proceedings in Committee, and of amendments, and also
exclusive of proceedings in the preliminary Committee, in
the case of Bills relating to religion, trade, and taxes. From
this fertile source any number of speeches may be elaborated,
independently of motions for adjournment.
The then Speaker, Mr. Lefevre, in his evidence before the
Committee of .848, said: 'I consider the most obvious way
' of saving the public time will be to limit the opportunity of
* debate, by reducing the number of questions.' The debates
on these questions must be limited if the loquacity of honour-
able members is to be checked. They should be confined
to the introduction of the Bill, the second reading, and the
Report from the Panel or Committee, to which it is suggested
every opposed public Bill should, after the second reading,
be referred ; limited however to any clauses not touching the
principle of the measure, Avliich might be singled out for
discussion on special grounds. It should nevertheless be
competent for any member to divide the House on every stage
of the Bill, but without debate. xVmple opportunity would
thus be afforded of stopping any obnoxious measure, and the
House would have a full locu^ pcenitentlcB both on the Report
and subsequent stages, if the Bill were so altered in Committee
as to render it unacceptable to the House.
But it is in Committee of the whole House that the resources
of the obstructionist develope themselves in their full intensity.
There is here no limit to the speeches which every member
may make upon each clause and line of a Bill, interspersed
Avith reading of extracts from Blue Books, and illustra-
tions drawn from every conceivable topic. What wonder is it
that the legislative Avheels move slowly, and eventually become
clogged altogether ? — and they will continue to do so until Par-
liament consents to work with a less force than a 650 member
power in passing every Bill through Parliament. It is need-
less to point out that almost every other representative as-
sembly has altered its procedure from that of the English
Parliament ; no other legislative body, nor any municipal cor-
poration, attempts to discuss the details of its proceedings
in the presence and through the medium of the whole body.
All work by means of committees, the result being reported
to the general body ; and their proceedings are adopted, altered,
or rejected, as the case may be.
Mr. Torrens draws an amusing picture of what is called a
Committee of the whole House. He affirms that, except in
extraordinary cases, the number of members who form the
' whole House ' in Committee rarely exceeds 200, seldom
1882. Parliamentary Procedure. 211
reaches half that number. What is called a Committee of the
whole House generally consists of a few score members who take
an interest in the particular subject. But what is really con-
sumed is the time of the whole House, since, while the House
is in Committee, no other business can be proceeded with. He
therefore concludes ' that all the pedantic talk about its cou-
* stitutional indispensability is simply fanfaronade.'
Mr. Torreus i)roposes to meet this and other causes of delay
by the following remedies, for he is opposed to the introduction
of the cloture : —
' 1. Distribution of the House into three panel committees, to one
of w hich each Bill should be referred after second reading instead of a
committee of the whole House.
'2. The reference of every private and local Bill to a joint committee
of three peers and three commoners, with a judge for president, ap-
pointed alternately by the Chancellor and the Speaker, instead of the
present system of double trial.
' 3. A standing order enabling seven members to call in writing on
the Speaker to count out the debate instead of counting out the
House.
' 4. A statute authorising the House of Lords to defer after second
reading the further stages of any Bill sent up after June 1 by the
Commons until the ensuing Session.
'5. A motion for adjournment of the House to be put without
debate when made without notice ; and no member to be allowed to
move the adjournment a second time during the sitting.' (Torrens,
p. 21.)
Mr. Manning, in the address which we have placed at the
head of this article, offers the foUowina; sug-o-estions : —
' Lord Eversley, the then Speaker, in his evidence before the Com-
mittee of 1854, stated "it would be desirable that a Bill which had
" been committed to a Select Committee should not in all cases pass
" through a Committee of the Avhole House, and that the present
"practiceoftheHou.se might be modified in this particular." Mr.
Evelyn Denison, the then Speaker, in his evidence before the Com-
mittee of 1861, said that he decidedly concurred in this opinion, and
that " Avhile other recommendations would perhaps tend more to cer-
" tainty in the conduct of business, some alteration with regard to the
" proceedings in Committee would perhaps tend to expedite public
" business more than anything which had yet been considered." The
Committee, in their Report, stated that they trusted this opinion would
receive the careful consideration of the House. Sir Erskine May, in
his evidence before the Commitcee of 18G9, said that the reference of
public Bills to a Select Committee was an advantageous practice, and
one which might be usefully extended ; that generally it obviated ob-
jections — the members most actively concerned in opposing the Bill
having had an opportunity of proposing amendments in the Committee.
212 Parliamentary Procedure. J ai .
Notwithstanding the foregoing opinions, expressed by authorities best
competent to form them, no .step whatever has been taken to carry out
their recommendation. Under the existing system private members
find it ahnost impossible to pass an opposed Bill through Parliament,
the result being that the entire legislation of the country is practically
thrown into the hands of the Ministry of the daj^, who, nevertheless,
have for many years been unable to pass more than one first-class
measure in a single Session. The spectacle of members, in the early
days of the Session, putting down Bills for second reading for the month
of July, which have therefore not the "' ghost of a chance " of becoming
law, is calculated to lower Parliament in public estimation. Many
useful measiu'es are consequently lost each Session. Every private
member, therefore, should be an advocate for the proposed change,
which, while reserving to the House the decision on the principle of
every Bill, would leave the details to be worked out in Committee,
and thus enable private members to forward the measures with
which their names have become identified. If the precedent of private
Bill legislation is considered, it will be seen that formerly it was held
that it would be quite impossible to concede such enormous interests
as railway intere.sts to a Committee of five members ; but they are now
referred to even a smaller Committee. The rules applicable to Com-
mittees of the whole House should be observed by the Committee
with this important alteration, that no member should be permitted
to speak more than once on each clause or amendment, and that no de-
bate or amendment attacking the principle of the Bill should be allowed.
The Committee should be attended by experienced draftsmen, who
should be responsible to the House that the Bill, as passed, was in con-
formity with the general law, and that the various clauses were con-
sistent with each other. The avoidance of litigation, the saving of the
time of the judges in the interpretation of Acts infringing these prin-
ciples, and of costs, which such an officer Avould effect, can be best
appreciated by the legal profession. Equal publicity would be aflforded
to the proceedings of the Select Committee, as to the deliates in
Committee of the whole House, by admitting the public and allow-
ing reporters to be present. These Committees would also be the
means of developing the capacity of the younger members, who are
debarred by the present system from assisting in the legislation of the
country. It should be borne in mind that the proposed reform
would not involve any alteration in the Kules of the House, which
already provide for all Bills being referred to a Select Committee.
A great objection to the proceedings of Select Committees is the
power to take evidence, for which they are not properly constituted,
and which occupies so considerable a portion of their time. Members
ought not to be compelled to undergo this drudgery. If the subject
is of sufficient importance to warrant legislation, the necessary evidence
should be provided for the Committee by means of a Eoyal Commis-
sion, where evidence can be taken by those best qualified for the pur-
pose.'
He therefore contends that the House of Commons, if it is
1882. Pavliameiitanj Procedure. 213
ever to escape from the Slough of Despond, must adopt the
proposed reform, referring all opposed public Bills to Select
Committees; but the very grave question i^emains unsolved,
how such Select Committees should or could be appointed, and
whether their recommendations would carry sufficient weight
to be accepted by the House.
The question of summarily closing the debate is one of the
most difficult with which Parliament has to deal, opposed as it
is to all the best traditions of that most ancient and honourable
assembly. The rights of minorities are sacred ; and, as Mr.
Torrens well points out, it is by the persevering exertions of
minoi-ities in Parliament that all the great reforms of the
present century have been carried. No one seriously desires
to invade or impair them. Nevertheless, there is high authp-
ritv for some limitation of the right of speech in debate, even
amongst the ranks of the most Conservative and Liberal states-
men. Frankly we may admit it is a choice of evils to which
we are driven, and on this basis it must be confessed that the
balance of testimony is infinitely in favour of the change.
What is the evil to be dealt with ? Speech, indefinite, uncon-
trolled speech. What is the remedy ? Ciit off the endless
facilities for speaking in season and out of season, and the
difficulty will vanish, or might at least be abated.
It has been objected that the best debaters will be silenced
by the adoption of the rule. But to this it may be replied
that the Speaker rules the order of debate, and he may be
trusted to take care that the leaders on both sides of the House
shall not be excluded. But it is said that one man will occupy
the attention of the House to the exclusion of all others. It
should be borne in mind, however, that members do not stand
alone ; they are associated and act mth others, who would
resent their exclusion from the debate, and soon bring the
recalcitrant member to reason. The House may be trusted to
hear the men whom it desires to hear because they are worth
hearing. It would never suffer them to be excluded.
The late Speaker, Mr. Denison, in his evidence before the
Committee of 1848, was asked the following question: —
' Looking to the opinion that you have expressed, that the good sense
of the House may be trusted where there is a large number of mem-
bers present, do you think it is possible that the introduction of
the cloture, to be demanded by not less than a certain number of
persons, would be attended with advantage ? '
To which he replied —
' I am aware that in most public assemblies it has been found necessary
to have recourse to some such expedient; but I should be disposed
214 Parliamentary Procedure. Jan.
myself to try \vliat could be clone liy other means rather than proceed
at once to that extremity.'
Ou this important point it may be well to consider the evi-
dence which has been taken with reference to the practice of
the French and American Chambers for limiting the length of
debates.
M. Guizot, who gave evidence before the Committee as to
the conduct of business in the Chamber of Deputies, in answer
to a question whether the rules and orders of the French
Chamber were not originally nearly the same as those of the
House of Commons, said : —
" In the beginning of our Constituent Assembly, at the Revolution,
JNIirabeau asked Etienne Dumout to give him a sketch of the proceed-
ings of the English House of Commons, and Etienne Dumont gave to
Mirabeau such a sketch. It became the model of the first rules of our
National Assembly. So that in the beginning of our revolution the
proceeding?< of your House of Commons became the source of ours. In
1814, when the Charter was granted by the King, the same rules were
adopted with some changes. I think it was at that time the cloture as
a means of closing the debate was introduced. Before it was intro-
duced the debites were protracted indefinitely, and not only were the
debates protracted, but at the end, when the majority wished to put an
end to the debate, and the minority would not, the debate became very
violent ; and out of the House among the public it became the source
of ridicule, and then a measure for demanding the closing of the debate
was introduced. The proceeding is this : a member, or two members,
call la cloture, the President puts it to the vote ; if any member ob-
jects, he can speak against the cloture ; one only can speak, and no
reply is allowed, and then the President puts the question : Must the
debate be closed ?
' Q. When there have been very great party conflicts in the Chamber,
has this power of cloture been used in a Avay that has been oppressive
to the minority ?
' A. I think not. Upon some special occasions the minority have
complained that the debate was closed ; but generally when the ques-
tion has been decided in the affirmative, the minority have submitted
without difficulty. I think the majority never abused that power.
The debates lasted very long ; even with the power ol' cloture we have
had a debate of more than a fortnight.
' Q. When the cloture is demanded, if a member rises to speak against
it, is he allowed to speak on the main question ?
' A. No ; he speaks only on the question. Is the clotwe proper and
just? If he speaks upon the main question, the President tells him,
" Sir, you cannot speak upon the main question ; speak upon the ques-
tion of clulure."
' Q. With the existence of the power of cloture, is it your opinion
that all subjects have been amply and lairly debated?
' A. Yes, it is quite my opinion ; I never knew in the Chamber of
Deputies a debate which did not last sufficiently long.
1882. Parliamentary Procedure. 215
' Q. Do you think that without Some power of closing debates, the
public business in your Chamber could have been conducted satis-
factorily ?
' A. I think not. I think the cloture in our Chamber was an indis-
pensable power. Calling to mind what has passed of late years, I do
not recollect any seriotis and honest complaint against the cloture.
' Q. Have you any limit put to the length of speeches by any order
of the House ?
'■A. None at all. There is no limit to the length of speeches, either
on the main question or on amendments.'
Mr. E. Curtis, of New York, a Member of Congress, gave
evidence as to the conduct of business in the House of Re-
presentatives of the United States of America. He was
asked —
* Q. Can you state to the Committee whether the Rules and Orders
of the House of Representatives in Congress were the same as those of
the English House of Commons ?
'■A. The Rules and Orders of the House of Representatives at the
establishment of the Government in 1789 were nearly the same as those
of the House of Commons.
' Q. Have the rules in process of time been varied, and what are the
wain causes which have led to these changes ?
'■A. The Rules have been considerably varied, chiefly from the ne-
cessity of facilitating the despatch of business.
' Q. Were the debates protracted to an inconvenient length ?
' A. They were protracted, as was thought, to an unreasonable length.
There was felt to be a necessity of finding some mode of closing the
debate. The difficulty was not being able to close a debate.'
Mr. Curtis proceeds to state that as early as the year 1794
it had been settled that the question of adjournment was not
debateable, and the practice has from that time continued, and
now exists, that a motion to adjourn shall be decided without
debate.
' Q. Will you be so good as to describe in what way a debate is
brought to a close ?
^ A. It is by the operation of what we call the previous question. The
previous question with us is not the same as that known in the British
Parliament. By Rule 50 of the House of Representatives, the previous
question shall be in this form : Shall the main question be now put ?
It appears that on the previous question being demanded it must be
supported, or, as the phrase is, seconded by a majority, and on this
being ascertained, the Speaker announces : The previous question is de-
manded by the House. If it should pass in the negative, the subject
Tinder debate is resumed ; if in the affirmative, the debate ceases, and
the amendments having been considered, the main question is put to
the vote without debate.
The number of the House of Representatives is 229 ; they
216 Parliamentary Procedure. Jan.
sit round t\\p. Speaker in a half-circle, the seats rising as in an
amphitheatre. The vote is taken by each party rising in
turn ; but, in case of its being demanded, the ayes and noes
may be called. The Speaker attains to great accuracy in
estimating the respective numbers, and to great quickness in
counting them. Members of the Executive Government have
no seats in the House. Twenty-eight standing Committees
are appointed at the commencement of a Session, and all Bills
originate in these Committees. No question of order is
debated; all such questions are decided by the Speaker, and
if his decision is appealed from to the House, it is decided by
vote, without debate. In this way questions of order, questions
of adjournment, and the previous question to bring a debate to
a close are decided by vote without debate. Besides this, a
rule has been adopted to limit speeches to one hour ; this rule,
called the one-hour rule, was adopted in the year 1841.
Mr. Curtis, speaking of this one-hour rule, says it has
greatly facilitated business. It has impi'oved the quality of
the speeches ; public opinion is decidedly in its favour. The
best proof of this is that as these rules are adopted only from
session to session^ and there have been changes of parties
since they were adopted, both parties have in curn adopted
these rules and acted upon them. The most intelligent and
experienced gentlemen of the country approve of them, both
the previous question and the one-hour rule. The present
Speaker of the House of Representatives, Mr. Winthrop,
has lately in a letter expressed his opinion in favour of the
one-hour rule. Mr. J. Randall, an advocate practising in the
Federal Courts of the United States, in the city of Phila-
delphia, confirmed Mr. Curtis's statements, and expressed an
opinion that ' the previous question ' and ' the one-hour rule '
have -worked well. At first the one-hour rule was much op-
posed, but it has worked well; it has fought its way into
public favour, and has the support not only of the members
of the House, but of the ]3eople at large.
A considerable portion of the evidence taken before the
various Committees has been witli reference to the appointment
of standing or, as they were formerly termed, Grand Com-
mittees, into which it has been proposed to divide the whole
Plouse for the purpose of legislating in different sections. This
was the suggestion made by this Journal in 1854. We pro-
posed that the House should be divided into six Grand Com-
mittees of 100 each the Ministers and Privy Councillors having
access to them all, and each Committee having a department
of its own, as law, finance, trade, &c. Mr. Torrens's three
1882. Parliamentarii Procedure, 217
panels are a larger division of the same kind. Select Com-
mittees, as they are now constituted, of about fifteen or twenty
members, would, in our opinion, be deficient in numbers and
in weight. The chief objection to this scheme appears to be
that it would not be easy, consistently with our Parliamentary
habits, to name the time of day at which these Grand Com-
mittees or Panels could sit, without interfering with the occu-
pations of the morning or the business of the evening.
The system pursued in the French Chambers is well de-
serving of consideration. Those bodies are subdivided by lot
into a certain number of bureaux, or grand Committees of
about fifty members each. Every member of the Chambers
belongs to some one of these bureaux, unless specially exempted ;
some members, we think, to more than one. A Bill is re-
ferred to one of these bureaux for critical examination before
what we should call the second reading, and is brought up
by a reporter, named on the Committee, who explains all its
provisions. The Budget of the year is referred to one of these
Committees, who examine every detail of it with the greatest
precision. This ensures practically a far stricter control of
the financial proposals of the Government than can be ob-
tained by a desultory discussion on a supply night in the House
of Commons.
In the Session of 1880 the block of business had reached
such a state that the Government of Lord Beaconsfield felt
constrained to endeavour to cope Avith it. In Committee on
the South African Bill the House had been debating and
dividing for twenty-six hours, led by the hon. member for
Liskeard, and supported by five or six other members. These
tactics being repeated by the Irish members on numerous
occasions led to the adoption by the House of the rules to
prevent obstruction, under which a member may be suspended
for the sitting, or, after three suspensions, ibr the remainder ot
the Session. In the last Session these rules of discipline were
enlarged by others, providing for urgency being voted on the
demand of a Minister of the Crown. The oppressive character
of this rule was shown by the fact that the leader of the Oppo-
sition was driven to address his constituents and the public
through the press as the only means of obtaining a hearing.
The insufficiency of these rules to prevent organised obstruc-
tion was amply demonstrated by the proceedings of the obstruc-
tionists on the earliest opportunity, which presented itself in the
debate on the Address at the commencement of the Session,
which, instead of being concluded, according to precedent, in a
single sitting, extended over no less than eleven sittings. This
218 Parliamentary Procedure.
Ian,
debate was an entire waste of the time of" the House, the whole
subject havmg to be again discussed on the passage through
Parliament of" the various Bills to which it related. The
necessity for a controlling power being placed in the hands of
either the House or the Speaker was rendered obvious by this
proceeding, even if the action of the malcontents on a sub-
sequent occasion, culminating in the temporary expulsion of
thirty-five of their number from the House, did not afford
ample testimony to the necessity for a change in rules per-
mitting liberty of debate to degenerate into license.
It has been contended that if the power be given to a
majority to close a debate, the rights of members will be
abrogated, and the House placed at the mercy of the Ministry
of the day, and this would no doubt be the case if the power
were vested in a bare majority. The happy medium has to be
struck, unless Parliameut is to be controlled by a clique bent
on its destruction, or unless, like Pharaoh with the Israelites,
it will let them go. This number must exceed that of the
obstructionists, and not exceed the usual numbers of the
Opposition voting in a division. A three-fourths majority
would meet these requirements, and, whilst checking the
tyranny of a bare majority, Avould effectually protect the rights
of a bond Jide minority. It may be safely affirmed that in no
other representative assembly in the world would the spectacle
of recent Sessions be tolerated, in which a handful of members
(avowing as their object the degradation and dismemberment
of the Legislature of w^hicli they formed a part, and of the
empire of which they were fellow- citizens) was permitted
night after night to stop the Parliamentary machine and block
the progress of every measure, and even the necessary votes in
Supply to carry on the service of the country.
Mow soon this odious system of obstruction is to be applied
to our foreign and colonial policy time will show. Hitherto
the course of debates on these subjects has been so arranged
that no obstacle has arisen to their being concluded within a
reasonable time, and complaints have never been heard of
their being insufficiently discussed or arbitrarily closed. The
most important subjects to be brought before Parliament are
precisely those on which rapid action may, on some sudden
emergency, be required ; and it is on these questions that
systematic obstruction might be applied with the most fatal
and disastrous effect.
Having dealt with the salient points of public legislation,
we have to consider the mode of regulating the private business
of Parliament so as to make it consonant with the sugs^sted
1882, Parliamentary Procedure. 219
alterations in public business. The reference of opposed private
Bills to various tribunals, such as the Board of Trade, local
governing bodies, and roving commissioners, has been proposed.
The existing tribunal of a Select Committee is an excellent
one in many respects ; for instance, in breadth of view, inde-
pendence, and the high character of its members, it is second
to none which can be devised, although Lord Brougham
in his celebrated Resolutions expressed a contrary opinion.
Against these qualities, however, is to be placed the consump-
tion of the valuable time of members which is required for
other and greater objects. We think, however, that this in-
convenience has been somewhat exaggerated. The business of
Select Committees on private Bills is entirely conducted in
the daytime, between the hours of twelve and four in the
afternoon. The public business of the House begins at the
latter hour, and if all the private business of Parliament were
transacted elsewhere, it would add Httle or nothing to the time
available for the debate of public measures. This we believe
to be the opinion of the experienced and able officer of the
House, Sir T. Erskine May.
On this question of the private Bills Mr. Manning has the
following remarks : —
' Under the present practice, about a hundred membei's of the House
of Commons, independently of the House of Lords, are occupied every
Session on committees on opposed private Bills. Many of them are
the most experienced members of Parliament, and, in order that their
services may be available on public Bill committees, they must first be
set free from attendance on committees on private Bills. This diffi-
culty has no doubt been one of the obstacles to carrying out the
reform so long since recommended on such high authority.
'■ Under the existing system the attention of Parliament is occupied
with the vast and heterogeneous mass of work which is thrust upon it
hy the various counties, cities, and boroughs, by the railway com-
panies, water and gas companies, and other corporations and interests
all over the country, with the result of impeding the entire public
legislation of the Empire.
' Five members of the Lords and four of the Commons now sit on
opposed private Bills in their respective Houses to hear evidence and
decide on passing or rejecting them. The members of this dual
tribunal may, and sometimes do, differ on the conclusions at which
they arrive, and it thus happens that a Bill passed by five members of
the Lords' Committee may be rejected by two members of the Com-
mons' Committee on the casting vote of the chairman.
' It is needless to enlarge on the additional cost to the promoters and
opponents of this double enquiry. Sir Erskine May, in his evidence
before the Joint Committee of 1869, stated that he was persuaded that,
if one tribunal only had been introduced fifteen years previously, it
220 Parliamentary Procedure. Jan.
would have saved the promoters and opponents of private Bills many
millions in costs. The Committee reported Uiat it was expedient that
opposed private Bills should be referred to a Joint Committee composed
of members of both Houses.
' It should also be borne in inind that the uncertainty attending the
present system, where promoters have incurred enormous costs in one
House, which are thrown away by the rejection u£ their Bill in the
other House, operates to prevent the introduction of many useful
measures to the public detriment.
' Various reforms have alread}' taken place in private Bill legislation
and the trial of election petitions, by which the attendance of members
on Committees has been dispensed with, and other tribunals have taken
their place, of which the following are instances : —
(1) The abolition of Committees on Standing Orders, ami the ap-
pointment by both Houses of examiners in their stead, who
enquire into the compliance with the Standing Orders of both
Houses at the same time.
(2) The appointment of referees.
(3) The appointment of election judges for the trial of election
petiti(ms.
Mr. Manning then goes on to recommend that every private
Bill should be referred after the second reading to one of the
election judges. The proposal to create new and untried tri-
bunals for the purpose of informing the mind of Parliament on
the weighty matters which are the subject of the majority of
private Bills is not one which commends itself to us. The
experience of those which have been set up by the side of the
existing legal tribunals has not been satisfactory, and a further
increase of them is to be deprecated. The instance of the
Railway Commission, which has failed to secure the confidence
of the railway companies, which are nevertheless compelled to
appear before it, is a case in point. Other instances to the
same effect might be adduced. But still less can we accede to
Mr. Manning's suggestion that the investigation of private
Bills should be transferred to the judicial body. The judges
of the High Court of Judicature have quite as much to do as
they can satisfactorily accomplish. To deal with these private
Bills would demand a considerable increase of the judicial staff,
which we think undesirable. Moreover, these investigations
turn chiefly on ciuestions of fact, having very little connexion
with the law. To apply the fii'st legal intellects of the country,
which are never too abundant, to adjudicate on competing
railways, canals, or street improvements, would be to cut stone
blocks with razors, and the work would probably be much
better done by men having more practical knowledge of these
subjects than of the principles of law and equity. But we
1882. The Bonapartes. 221
agree with Mr. Torrens that it is highly desirable that the
mixed Committees of the two Houses appointed to report on
private bills should be presided over by a judicial functionary,
who need not be a member of either House of Parliament, or
a judge of the land. Some such judicial officer is much needed
to give greater regularity and uniformity to the proceedings
of these Committees. The question of private Bills is, how-
ever, a secondary part of the matter. No great difficulty or
obstruction has arisen in the present mode of dealing with
them, and a little simplification of the procedure by abolishing
the double enquiry would probably meet the exigencies of the
case.
It has been intimated with authority that the first business
to be brought before Parliament in the ensuing Session is this
all-important subject of Parliamentary procedure. Mr. Glad-
stone will apply to it all his wonted energy and his vast Par-
liamentary experience. We trust that his proposals will be
met by the leaders of the Opposition in a candid spirit, for this
is no question of party. Neither party seeks to take an un-
fair advantage of the other. Both are equally concerned in
restoring and maintaining the dignity and efficiency of the
House of Commons.
Art. IX. — 1. The Life of Napoleon III. Derived from
State Records, from unpublished Family Correspondence,
and from Personal Testimony. By Blanchard Jerrold.
4 vols. 8vo. London: 1874-82.
2. The Marriages of the Bonapartes. By the Hon. D. A.
Bingham. 2 vols. London: 1881.
3. Recollections of the Last Half-Century. By Count Orsi.
London: 1881.
A consideration of the weakness and inherent childish-
■^ ness of human nature permits us to understand how it
is that in France a large party should even now ignore the
crimes of the First Napoleon ; should forget the evil fate which
his tyranny, covetousness, and ambition drew down on the
country of his adoption; should remember only his military
glory and the grandeur of his genius, and should thus base
their political principles on the worship of his name and on
devotion to his family ; but we confess to finding it impossible
to understand how any Englishman of ordinary, and still naore
of cultivated, intelligence can be subject to the same hallucina-
tion. Mr. Blanchard Jerrold has been known for many years
222 The Bonapartes. Jan.
as a pleasant writer, and by hereditary claim as a politician
of Liberal or even of advanced views; but in undertaking
this present work he would seem to have pledged himself
to a blind admiratio)i of anything and everything that any
member of the Bonaparte family has ever done, to an approval
of everything that his hero has ever said, or, by anticipation, of
everything that he ever thought. He appears before us not so
much as a biographer or an advocate as a devotee, more Bona-
partist than the Bonapartes, more imperialist than the Em-
peror, with the necessary result that his book as panegyric is
exaggerated and fulsome, as history is worthless, and as art is
detestable. Even his language is at fault ; although a prac-
tised writer, he is frequently ungrammatical, he falls into
French idioms, or makes use of French Avords which have very
exact English ec^uivalents. A school examination, for in-
stance, is a pro loco ; to have come to grief in it is to have
degringoU; and a police-van is a panier a sulade. On the
other hand, he is careless in translating, so much so that we
might miss the meaning, and still more the point, were it not
that the Fi'ench originals are commonly inserted as footnotes
or appendix.
It is impossible for us to sav how far all this has been recog-
nised by the Empress Eugenie or other representatives of the
late Emperor of the French ; but notwithstanding the con-
tinued announcement on the title-page, we notice that whilst
in the first two volumes there are frequent references to private
papers and letters, these are altogether wanting in the later
volumes, in writing which Mr. Jerrold would appear to have
been thrown on his own resources, and to have been compelled
to patch up his eulogium as he best could, out of such materials
as the newspapers and pamphlets of the day have left at his
disposal.
For history, properly so called, the reign of Napoleon III.
is still too recent. The storm and revolution in which it
began have left their mark on the whole period ; and the
angry strife of parties has rendered it impossible for a French-
man to speak or write except as a partisan. We may some-
times think that, even amongst ourselves, party warfare and
constitutional opposition are apt to degenerate into rancour
and violence: but for any political parallel in oiu' own history
with that of modern France, wo must go back to the end of the
seventeenth century, to the reign of James II. or of William and
Mary, and to the conditions of public feeling which culminated
in the Bloody Assi/e or the Massacre of Glencoe. We must
consider that the differences betw^een parties are not, as with
1882. The Bonapartes^. 223
us now, mere graduated shades of opinion, seeking to naodify
the details of government in accordance with changing con-
ditions ; but are rather a number of absolute discrepancies, in
which Socialists, Republicans, Bonapartists, Absolutists, Or-
leanists, Legitimists, all mingle, to render confusion more
confounded. It would be temerity rather than judgment
which would venture to say that the future of the Republic
now is more assured than that of the Empire was twenty years
ago. In face of the possibilities which may become realities
before the French government is established on a firm basis,
even speculation is silent : Ave can only argue, from the
analooy of our own history, that some one of the contending
divisions must establish a firm supremacy ; faction must tone
dov/n into party, and the spirit of revolt fall as dead as the
day-dreams of the Jacobites : but how this is to come about,
or what, in twenty years' time, will be supremacy, what will
be revolt, we neither know nor prophesy. But we trust it
will not be the supremacy of the Bonapartes.
Of the public history of the First Napoleon we have nothing
now to say. The mist with which his military genius long
surrounded his name, has, little by little, given way before the
sun of truth ; and the work of Lanfrey ]iut his character
soberly and honestly before the world. Lanfrey does not
appear as a partial critic ; but the publication of further
material, and, more distinctly, of the Memoirs and Letters of
Madame de Remusat, shows that even Lanfrey's estimate is
too favourable. Mr. Bingham's ' Marriages of the Bonapartes '
has few pretensions to originality or deep research, and would
seem to have sprung out of the author's love of gossip, scandal,
and naughty stories, which, as often as not, he spoils in the
telling ; but he has brought together a great deal of the
evidence on which we base our estimate of the private cha-
racter of Napoleon, his brothers, his sisters, his kinsfolk and
acquaintance, the examination of which forces on us the con-
clusion that Lewis Goldsmith spoke within the most rigid
truth in saying 'that had the French nation searched their
' galleys, their bridewell, or a common brothel, they could not
' have selected a more infamous family to govern them.'
When Goldsmith published his ' Secret History of the
' Cabinet of Bonaparte,' in which he enlarged on this text in
exceedingly plain language, the world was still under the fas-
cination of the Emperor's genius : it recognised him as _ an
enemy, as cruel, ambitious, and unscrupulous ; but was wilHng
to believe that his crimes and vices must be heroic ; that petty
fraud, mean falsehood, cheating, and spite were incompatible
224 The Bonupartefi. Jan»
with the assumed 2^rancleiir of his character ; and that the
fouler vices of Avhicli he Avas accused were simple impossi-
bilities. Lewis Goldsmith was therefore pronounced to be not
only a liar, but a filthy liar ; and, from that time to th.is, his
book has been held to be a model of all that is worthless and
scurrilous. But the whirligig of time brings its revenges :
revelation after revelation has confirmed Goldsmith's allega-
tions, however foul, however coarse ; and he must now take
rank not as the ill-tongued, low-minded slanderer of brave men
and honest women, but as a writer curiously Avell-informed in
the secret history Avhich he professed to set forth, and to have
had reasonable grounds for his statements, even where the
secret history Avas fiction, as secret history often is.
More than once the persons av1i(^ crossed the path of the
First Napoleon disappeared in a mysterious manner, and those
who kncAv him best believed him to be capable of any enormity.
There is, on the other hand, no direct proof that their death
was caused by Bonaparte ; nothing but concurrent suspicion.
The Empress Josephine herself Avas convinced that if she
thAvarted his Avishes, she too would be found to have com-
mitted suicide. ' Who knoAvs,' she said to her confidante,
Madame de Remusat, ' if he Avill be able to resist the necessity
' of getting rid of me if I stand in his Avay ? ' Madame de
Remusat, in relating this, adds : —
* WhateA^er I might think of the facility Avith Avhich Bonaparre
yieldfd to political necessity, I did not believe for a moment tliat he
Avould l)p capable of conceiving and executing the black .designs of
Avhich she then suspected him. But he had acted in such a Avay on
several occasions, and he had used such language, that it Avas not sur-
prising her misery should inspire her with suspicions of this terrible
kind ; and I avus imable to make any other reply than " Madame, be
" quite sure that he is not capable of going so far."'
But the Emperor's brother, Joseph, felt no such assurance,,
and, Avhen urging him to the divorce, said to him plainly : —
' If a natural cause should bring about the death of this Avoman,
then, lor all France, for Europe, and for myself who knoAA' you Avell,.
you Avill be a poisoner. Who Avill believe that you did not do Avhat
it was in your interest to do ? Better be beforehand Avith such shame-
ful suspicions. You are not married. You have never consented to
have your union Avith this woman consecrated. Leave her for political
reasons, and do not alloAv it to be believed that you have got rid of her
by a crime.'
Some criminal lawyers are said to have laid down the axiom
that, as between man and wife, no further grounds for murder
need be looked for : the relationship is one in Avhich long
1882. The Bonapartcs. 225
experience has shown that extremes meet ; and Josephine was
very far indeed from being perfect in her conduct. Had the
fear of her husband hung over her by reason of any one of her
numerous frailties, the suspicion Avould have been at least
human ; but not for such reasons was Napoleon murderously
inclined. He had no reason to suppose the cast-off mistress of
Barras to be a model of virtue ; and although he was well aware
of her frequent lapses, he had never shown any disposition to
judge them harshly. ' During the first campaigns in Italy,'
wrote his aide-de-camp, Count de Lavalette, ' he sent aAvay
* several of Josephine's lovers from headquarters, and others
* on his return from Egypt ; but he deprived none of them of
' either life or liberty.' In fact, although he Avould seem to
have had, at first, a certain coarse animal passion for his bride,
it soon expended itself; and the two may be said to have
thenceforward acted on the familiar precept, slightly modified —
love and let love.
Earlier writers have dwelt principally on the romance of
Josef)hine's career, the circumstances of which have been much
obscured and even falsified. Napoleon was not fond of having
the antecedents of either himself or his wife too closely
enquired into; although of a family that fairly ranked as
gentle, he was wont to say that his patent of nobility dated
from Montenotte ; and of his wife all that was officially sup-
posed to be known Avas that she Avas a Creole, the Avidow of the
Viscount de Beauharnais aa^io had perished on the scaffold.
Napoleon himself related the story of his first introduction to
her. An order had been given to disarm Paris : every person
having arms Avas ordered, under scA^ere penalties, to give them
up. Eugene de Beauharnais, a bright intelligent boy of ten
or eleven, waited on General Bonaparte to beg leave for his
mother to retain his father's SAVord. Bonaparte, pleased Avith
the child's manner and appearance, gaA^e up the SAvord ; and
the next day Madame de Beauharnais called to thank him for
his goodness. He saAv, loved, wooed, and married. The story
AA'as, of itself, enough to captivate all lovers of the romantic,
and, told in verse, Avas popular as an English song for at least
fifty years afterwards. Unfortunately, there is no more truth
in it than in any other story A-ouched for by Napoleon. The
order to disarm referred explicitly to fire-arms : the possession
of the SAvord was never questioned ; Eugene de Beauharnais,
Avho Avas then not ten or eleven, but nearly fifteen, preferred
no request for it ; and General Bonaparte first made the ac-
quaintance of Madame de Beauharnais under very different
circumstances.
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. Q
226 The Bonapartes. Jan.
It appears that, by the date of her birth, Josephine was born
au Euglish subject ; Mai*tinique being at the time, by the good
service of Sir George Rodney, an English possession, thougli
given back to the French when Lord Bute patched up the
hasty and undignified peace of 1763. An alliance between her
family and that of Beauharnais had long been contemplated,
and was arranged to be carried out in the persons of the
young Viscount and Josephine's younger sister Desiree.
Desiree, however, died ; and after some negotiation it was
decided that Josephine, then of the mature age of sixteen,
should take her place ; the principal objection made on behalf
of the bridegroom being that she was too old ; for he himself
was, at the time, only nineteen. The objection was waived ;
she was sent home to France and married to M. de Beau-
harnais on December 13, 1779 ; but, as Mr. Bingham puts it,
* there is only too much reason to suppose that Josephine's
* conduct was of a character to give rise to jealousy.' A
separation was threatened, and in the course of 1783 Avas
actually decreed. Eight years later they Avere reunited ; but
Beauharnais, although he had taken service in the Rejjublicau
army, did not escape suspicion as a ci-devant, and as such wus
duly guillotined.
Josephine, though she narrowly escaped the same fate, was
far from being an inconsolable widow. In prison, she had
contracted an intimacy with Madame de Fontenay, the
mistress and afterwards the Avife of Tallien, as well as the not
too Platonic friend of Barras. Even in love, Madame de Fon-
tenay was not selfish : she introduced Josephine to Barras,
and betAveen these two a relationship of a by no means doubt-
ful character almost immediately sprang up. It was in this
libertine set, to Avhich his position as military governor of
Paris introduced him, that Bonaparte first saw Josephine, a
woman, as Ave may readily believe, infinitely superior in oracp,
in elegance, in refinement, to anything a young fello^\',
whose only idea of society had hitherto been the barrack-room,
had ever seen ; and Barras, finding the young soldier in a con-
venient frame of mind, easily persuaded him to marry tlie
charming AvidoAv, salving his scruples, if he had any, Avith the
command of the army of Italy. This view of the situation is
neither heroic nor romantic, but it is true. Josephine herscli'
Avas not especially eager for the match, but it Avas pressed \\\)o\\
her. 'Will you believe it? ' she Avrote to one of her friends,
' they want me to marry Vendemiaire ; ' and to another: —
' Barras assures me that if I marry the General, he Avill obtain the
command-in-chief of the army of Italy for him. Yesterday Bonaparte,
1882. The Bonapartes. 227
in speaking to m-e about this flivour, which ah-eady makes his comrades
murmur, although it is not yet accorded, said : " They think then that
■" I need protection in order to succeed. They will be too happy some
" day if I only condescend to accord them mine. My sword is at my
'* side, and I shall make my way with it." '
This sounds well, and better in the French than in the
English, which is Mr. Bingham's : but the fact remains that
T3arras promised the appointment on certain conditions ; that
the conditions were fulfilled ; and that Barras himself attested
the marriage, which took place on March 9, 1796. With a fib
peculiarly feminine, Josephine stated her age to be four years
less than it really was. ISTapoleon has been supposed, on the
other hand, to have antedated his own birth by eighteen
months. M. Lanfrey, in 1869, thought that he did so to
gratify a Avhim of Josephine, and accepts the usually re-
ceived date, August 15, 1769, as correct; but more recently.
Colonel Jung, after examination of papers in the French War
Office, is of opinion that Napoleon was born at Corte on
January 7, 1768, and that it was Joseph who Avas born at
Ajaccio on August 15, 1769. There seems, in fact, to be a
r,n-eat deal of evidence all tending to the same conclusion ; in
iddition to which, it appears well established that in the home
circle, and long before he had achieved greatness, Napoleon
was always recognised as the head of the family : and Mr.
Bingham, convinced that Napoleon's age has been deliberately
raisstated, suggests that the falsification took place in De-
•ember 1778, when Count Marboeuf, the governor of Corsica,
uave Madame Bonaparte a nomination to Brienne for one of
her sons. The nominee was limited to ten years of age, and
fhe choice would thus necessarily have fallen on Joseph, who,
i>eing of a gentler disposition, gladly gave place to his tur-
bulent elder brother. The point of principal interest about it
is that if the earlier is the correct date, Napoleon was not only
aot a French subject by birth, but his father, at the time, was
actually in arms against the French usurpation: the settle-
aent of Corsica was in June, 1769.
The passionate love which Bonaparte bore to Josephine has
been dwelt on by all writers, down to the latest. His early
letters to her seem indeed to have been dictated by passion,
iiut a passion very different from pure love. They might, Mr.
Bingham thinks, have offended Josephine's modesty, had she
not been ' a woman of the Avorld, who had already been married
and repudiated, and who had been met by her second husband
• in the midst of a dissolute society of a dissolute epoch.' What-
ever the passion, it did not last long. Within the vear his
228 The Bonapartes. Jan.
relations to his wife had become cool and business-like ; and
in the following May we find him writing that Eugene * is
* the son of that General de Beauharnais, whose death everyone
' regrets.'
From the first, Josepliine had shown little love for her
husband. She had indeed only accepted him under a pressure
which, to her gentle, indolent nature, amounted to compulsion;
nor did she pretend to any grief on his having to leave her for
the army. Her amours were, all along, sufficiently notorious :
and those of Napoleon, after a year of abeyance, were a
scandal, more or less public, wherever he went. Of the in-
cestuous attachments attributed to him there is perhaps no
proof, and humanity would fain discredit them ; but leaving
these out of the question, there is no doubt that Napoleon and
his sisters led lives of the grossest immorality, for the most
part without even a tinge of romance. His first acquaintance
— it can scarcely be called his intrigue — with the Countess
Walewska has indeed a certain comic strain which takes off
some of its grossness.
On the occasion of the Emperor's first entry into Warsaw,
Murat had persuaded the Countess to attend him in the neigh-
bouring castle appointed for his residence. He was busy
writing Avhen her arrival Avas announced, and, without disturb-
ing himself, ordered her to be shown to her apartment, to be
offered supper, a bath — whatever she wanted — and to be told
she might go to bed if she chose, and went on writing until a
late hour.
' At last' — it is Madame de Reinusat who tells the story — ' his business
being finished, he proceeded to the apartment where he had been so
long waited for, and presented himself with all the manner of a master
who disdains useless preliminaries. Without losing a moment, he
began a singular conversation on the political situation of Poland',
questioning the young lady as if she had been a police agent, and'
demanding some very circumstantial information respecting the great
Polish nobles who were then in Warsaw. He inquired particularly
into their opinions and their present interests, and prolonged this ex-
traordinary interrogatory for a long time. The astonishment of a
woman twenty year.s of age, who was not prepared for such a cross-
examination, may be imagined. She answered him as well as she
could, and only when she could till him no more did he seem to-
remember that Murat had promised, in his name, an interview of a
more tender nature.'
The liaison so entered on proved more lasting than might
have been expected, and was not dissolved till the final over-
throw of Napoleon and his being shipped off to St. Helena.
One result of it was the birth, in 1810, of that Count Walewski
1882. The Bonapartes. 229
who afterwards filled several high posts under the Second
Empire, and was so Avell known in this country.
Count Leon, another son of Napoleon, born in 1805, died
only last April. His mothei-, Madame Revel, the Emperor
took possession of by the simple process of putting her husband.
Captain Revel, in prison. According to Mr. Bingham, ' he was
* accused of having been engaged in a fraudulent transaction ;
* but the charge was evidently trumped up, his only crime beino-
' diat, like Uriah, he was the husband of a pretty woman.'
This Leon is described as singularly like his father, both
morally and physically ; the moral resemblance seems to have
shown itself principally in cheating at cards and fighting duels;
on the strength of the physical resemblance, he appealed to
the people both in 1830 and in 1848 ; his known and worthless
character, however, rendered his appeals ineflfectual, and he
Jiever emerged from obscurity.
Whether amongst Napoleon's many passing amours must
be numbered one Avith his step-daughter, Hortense Beauhar-
nais, has long been a burning question. True or false, the
scandal is a very old one ; and adds that when Hortense proved
likely to become a mother, she was, sorely against her will,
married to Louis Bonaparte, in order that her son, if she
should bear one, might, by reason of the apparent consan-
guinity, be recognised as the presumptive heir to the throne.
It is, at any rate, quite certain that at an early date, and
whilst the idea of empire was not fully developed, the son of
Hortense was spoken of as the heir of Napoleon, in preference
to his acknowledged father, Louis, or his elder uncle, Joseph.
JToseph was loudly indignant, and expressed his indignation in
no measured terms ; his sister Caroline, married to Murat, was
no less vehement. Such scenes were pleasing to Napoleon ;
they gave zest to his sense of mastery, and he sought rather
than avoided them. Thus, in the presence of the family he
said one day to the ' little Napoleon,' a still unconscious infant,
^ Do you know, my little fellow, that you run the risk of
'being a king some day ? And mind, my poor child,' he added
for the express benefit of Madame Murat, 'I advise you, if you
* value your life, not to accept invitations to dine with your
'cousins.'
Louis Bonapai'te was more indignant than either Joseph
or Caroline, for the scandal which explained the proposed suc-
cession was to him a more direct injury; and as the boy's
reputed father he could take a more determined tone.
' Why,' he said, ' should I yield my share of inheritance to my son ?
How have I deserved to be cut off? "What will my position be when
230 The Bonajyartes. Jan..
my child, taking that of yours, finds liimself very mucli higher phiccd
than I, and quite independent of me, standing next to yourself, and
regarding me with suspicion, if not with contempt ? No ; I will never
consent to this ; and rather than renounce the proper course of suc-
cession to the royalty which is to ])e yours, rather than consent tO'
humble myself before my own son, I will leave France, taking Napoleon
with me, and we shall see whether you will venture openly to take a
child from his father.'
That Louis believed the story of the boy's parentage is
probable ; it is certain that the indifference he had felt for his
wife turned to bitter hatred. According to Madame de Kemusat,
Hortense Avas a most virtuous and deeply injured woman — an
opinion which many well-established facts discredit, and that
so positively that even Mr. Jerrold can only say, ' She Avas
*not Avithout error. They who loved her best were constrained
* to admit her follies, to boAv their heads when it Avas asserted
*that she Avronged her husband' — which is as delicate a Avay of
expressing disapproval of adultery as has come under our
notice. The 'little Napoleon,' however, died of croup in
May, 1807 ; and though Hortense had by that time a second
son. Napoleon Louis, and'Avithin the year a third, Louis
Napoleon, the Emperor never transferred to either of these
the very marked affection Avhich he had shoAvn towards their
elder brother. The project of divorce, Avhich had meauAvhile
been in abeyance, Avas again brought to the front, and was
finally carried into execution in December, 1809 ; in the
following spring Napoleon Avas married to the Archduchess
Marie Louise ; and the King of Rome, afterAvards better
knoAvn as the Duke of Reich.stadt, Avas born on March 20^
1811. For years afterwards, nothing Avas heard of the children
of I-Iortense as representing the Bonaparte family.
Louis Napoleon, the third son of Hortense, and, by legal
presumption, of her husband, Louis Bonaparte, Avas born in
Paris on April 20, 1808 The character of his mother is no
guarantee for his legitimacy ; according to the popular scandal,
his real father Avas a Dutch naval officer. Admiral Verhuell..
Victor Hugo, Avhose republican exaggeration is as Avell knoAvn
as his poetical genius, has Avritten of him : * He belonged to no
' family, as he could hesitate betAveen Bonaparte and Verhuell ;.
' he had no country, as he could hesitate betAveen France and
' Holland ; ' and again : ' He Avho Avrites these lines, talking one
*day about Louis Bonaparte Avith the ex- King of Westphalia,
' remarked, " In him the Dutchman tones doAvn the Corsican."
*"If there be any Corsican," ansAvered Jerome.' In this,
Victor Hugo but repeated the belief of a very large section.
1882. The Bonapartes. 231
of the French people, which, however, seems to us ill-founded.
It is admitted that in the summer of 1807, consequent, as we
may suppose, on the death of the ' little Napoleon,' the
object of Louis' jealous suspicions, the King and Queen of
Holland, who had long lived apart, were, for a time, reconciled ;
and Mr. Jerrold, though feigning ignorance of the whole
question, has quoted a letter from Louis to his wife, dated
April 24, 1808, in Avhich he clearly enough recognises the
new-born babe. It runs thus : —
' M. de Bylandt lias arrived in less than fifty hours, and he brings
me the news of your deliverance. I have begged mamma and I have
requested Madame de Boubers to give exact accounts of your health.
I hope they will soon acquaint me with your complete convalescence.
When M. de Villeneuve returns, I will beg you to let me know Avhat
the Emperor has written to you. I should like the little one to be only
christened, so that he may be solemnly baptised here : but I subor-
dinate my wishes to yours and to that of the Emperor.'
If we may accept the genuineness of this letter, to the
origin of which Mr. Jerrold gives no reference, it may be
considered as fairly setting the doubt at rest ; for Louis was
neither unsuspicious nor forgiving. His reconciliation with
his wife was of no long continuance ; even before the birth of
this cliild, they had found it better to be separate ; and when
Holland was in name as well as in fact absorbed into the
Empire, Louis went off by himself into Styria, whilst Hor-
tense remained in Paris ; it was many years before they met
again. At some late period, Louis Napoleon seems to have
entertained a fleeting purpose of writing an autobiography,
but not to have gone further than noting down some of his
childish recollections.
' I often went,' he says in this fragment, ' with my brother, who was
three years my senior, to breakfast Avith the Emperor. They used to
conduct us to a room the Avindows of which open on the Tuileries
gardens. When the Emperor entered, he came up to us, took us by
the head between his hands, and in this way stood us upon the table.
This exceptional way of carrying us frightened my mother very much,
Corvisart having told her that it was very dangerous to children. In
1815 my mother had obtained permission to remain in Paris. When the
first news of the landing of the Emperor came, there was great irrita-
tion among the Royalists and the Gardes du Corps against my mother
and her children. The rumour ran that we were to be assassinated.
One night our governess came with a valet de chambre and took us
across the garden of my mother's house to a little room on the boule-
vards, where we Avere to remain hidden. It Avas the first sign of a
reverse of fortune.'
This ' little room ' Avas the home of Mimi, an old black-
232 The Bonapartcs. Jan.
Avomun Avho liad come from jNIartinique with Josephine, and
had been the nnrse of Eugene and Hortense ; and Mr. Jerrokl
tells us : —
' It was from IMimi's garret that Queen Hortense heard the difFerent
notes that sounded the approach of the Emperor : from those of vitu-
peration when he was distant to the sweet accents of praise when he
■was at hand and his legions were niarcliing to and fro in the streets of
Paris. The poet said that he had come back Avith the violets ; and
when it was safe for the loyal and devoted Hortense to go forth from
her hiding-place with her boys, she made her Avay through happy
crowds to the Tuileries, np the staircase of Avhich the victor of Auster-
litz had been carried in the arms of his soldiers.'
The ' loyalty ' and ' devotion ' of Hortense were family
affairs ; to whom should the woman be ' loyal and devoted '
if not to her step-father, her brother-in-law, and her bene-
factor ? and in referring to the happy crowds and the exulta-
tion of the soldiers, Mr. Jerrold is but accepting the idea
which has been very commonly accepted by others. The
truth, as it appears to us, is that Napoleon, on his return from
Elba, was Avelcomed and borne to powder by a very small
minority of the French soldiers and the French peopde. That
Napoleon Avas the darling of the French soldiers has been so
constantly said and rej^eated, that the changes coinciding with
the different stao-es of his career have been lost sio-ht of. The
Napoleon of Lodi, of Austerlitz, or of Jena, was adored ; the
feeling towards the Napoleon of Moscow or Leipzig was
•rather terror, which the rigorous enforcement of the conscrip-
tion had strengthened and enhanced. The effect of this was
really very marked. Of the thousands that escaped from the
horrors of the Russian campaign, very few rejoined the colours;
and of the hundreds of thousands who were returned to
France, in 1814, from the prisons of Russia, Germany, and
England, the number that supported Napoleon on his return
was trifling. The royal army, of about 150,000 men, accepted
him readily enough; but his utmost exertions could not increase
that number by more than 100,000; and he hurried on the
Belgian campaign and the battle of Waterloo, distinctly and
avowedly because delay Avould give the allies time to con-
centrate their forces, but could bring him no accessions.
When we consider that at that time there must have been in
France, at the lowest estimate, more than 500,000 soldiers,
exclusive of those serving ; that the number of officers returned
from Russia alone w'as over 3,000 ; that for a period of twenty
years the whole intellect of France had been turned to the
army ; that all ambition, aspiration, energy, centred in it.
1882. The Bonapartes. 233
all education was directed to it ; and that of the men so
brought up, the career was at once cut short by the downfall
of Napoleon ; but that most of them preferred, in the life of
a citizen, the death of all the ambitions, hopes, and dreams
of their youth — we are forced to conclude that the Napoleon
of 1815 was not quite so much the idol of the soldiers as he
has been represented ; that their worship of him, based on his
success, died out Avith his failure ; and that the military spirit
was insufficient to lead even these old soldiers to resume, in
the dark hour of adversity, such habits of order and discipline
as they had once had.
After the final overthrow of Napoleon, the ex-Queen of
Holland, now Duchess of St. Leu, was ordered to leave Paris.
With her two boys, she went, in the first place, to Geneva,
where, however, the people did not receive her with gushing
affection. Mr. Jerrold thinks this strange, and is shocked at
the conduct of some officers who ' actually held a banquet in
' her hotel— that is, the hotel in which she happened to be
'staying — to celebrate the fall of the Emperor.' It does not
appear that they went out of their way to do this, or that they
were able to make other arrangements ; and we are not pre-
pared to admit that the Swiss owed any especial respect to a
woman whose only claim to consideration was that she had
married a Bonaparte. However, as Geneva was not likely to
prove a pleasant resting-place, the Duchess passed on to Aix
in Savoy. Even here, we are told,
* her ease was ever and anon broken by the cruel scraps of news that
readied her retreat. The assassination of Marshal Brune at Avignon,
the fate of Ney and Labedoyere, the hard destiny allotted to Napoleon
— in short, all the brutalities that followed fast upon the second restora-
tion — came as so many stabs to the overwrought mind of the Queen.
Her dwelling, too, was surrounded by Koyalist spies. Fellows of evil
aspect were continually seen skulking in her vicinity. The Eoyalist
terrorism was intense.'
A more real trouble was the loss of her elder son. Napoleon
Louis, who was claimed by his father, then residing in Rome.
She was permitted to keep the younger, Louis Napoleon.
But in October she received an intimation that she could not
be permitted to remain so near the French border. She went
to Constance ; but the Grand-Duke of Baden ^ sent word
that she must not stay either there, or within his territory.
Eventually, however, and after some changes, the prohibition
was withdrawn; on February 10, 1817, she purchased the
chateau of Arenenberg; and there for the future she made
her home, although much of her time was passed at Augsburg,
234 The Bonapartes. Jan.
■where her son Louis studied for the next eight years, and
' although she made frequent visits to Eome, where ' she spent
' many agreeable winters in the midst of her family, and helped
* to form Louis' tastes and character by giving him the society
of the great and gifted.' As she was virtually separated from
her husband, as her elder boy stuck to his father, and as she
had no other relations in Italy, Mr. Jerrold's reference to the
family circle is somewhat out of place, and, if it means any-
thing at all, can only mean that she and Louis Avere a good
deal together. This undoubtedly was so. The boy's training
and education were indeed carried on almost entirely under
his mother's eye ; and though he acquired a respectable
amount of scholarship, and even of excellence in physical
exercises, the development of his character was in many
respects feminine. The cat-like secrecy, the cunning, the
fixedness of purpose, and the patience Avhich marked his later
years, appear to us as so many imprints of this early influence.
And through life the relations between Hortense and her son
continued to savour of the nursery.
In December 1830, Prince Louis Xapoleon was prepar-
ing to take part in the Italian uprising, which ended as an
uprising so ill-considered might have been expected to end.
Mr. Jerrold's account of this is vague and imsatisfactory ; we
are happily able to compare it with that given by Count Orsi,
who at this time first made the acquaintance of Prince Louis,
and entered into close relations with him, some recollections of
which he has, during the last few years, given to the world in
occasional articles, and has now collected into an interesting
little volume. We may add that though written by a foreigner,
the English is excellent ; where the author goes astray it is
not in introducing foreign idioms or foreign words, but rather
in the use of half vulgar or American colloquialisms, which
here and there read strangely. But, mere style apart. Count
Orsi is happy in conveying to us an impression of his perfect
honesty and trustworthiness ; his notes, he tells us, were taken
at the time ; and his partialities and prejudices are natural
and alloAvable : he makes no attempt to conceal them. He
writes, indeed, subject to a certain, we may suppose, necessary
reticence ; but Avhat he has to tell, what he considers himself
permitted to tell, he tells, and in a pleasant, manly, straight-
forward manner, which carries with it a full belief in the
accuracy of the record, so far as it goes.
^ The French Revolution of July 1830, like all the other
French Revolutions, sent a tremor through every country in
Europe. Even in England it was not without result in
1882. Tlie Bonapartes. 235
quickening the progress of the Reform Bill ; bnt on the Con-
tinent its effects were more marked and more violent. Bel-
gium proclaimed and asserted her independence ; Poland was
crushed in attempting to do the same ; and in Italy the desire
for independence and political liberty called numbers of the
noble and high-minded to arms. Into this attempt the two
sons of Louis, now known as the Count of St. Leu, eagerly
threw themselves. Mr. Jerrold considers that their doing so
was the simple outcome of their love of liberal institutions ;
that they had no personal aim, but ' helped the cause as lovers
* of freedom.' It is therefore interesting to compare with this
assertion Prince Napoleon's own statement, as now repeated
by Count Orsi, which runs : —
' In the midst of the turmoil which seems to set Europe topsy-turvy,
it is hateful to my brother and myself to remain idle spectators of
current events, and to shut ourselves out from the rest of the world.
The name we bear, the spirit that enlivens us, coupled with a great
desire of being useful to this country that gave our family the most
heartfelt hospitality, inspire us not to resist the opportunity of joining
the insurgents in the Eomagna. . . . No other field seems open to us
for the exercise of mental and bodily exuberant activity.'
With the sentiments thus manifested we find no fault, but
they do not show that godlike pui'ity of motive which, accord-
ing to Mr. Jerrold, directed every action of either of the two
brothers. Napoleon Louis had been from early youth the
pupil and companion of his father, a man of austere character
and studious habits, the only one of the Bonapartes of Avhom
even scandal has no ill to tell. * A good, honest, Avell-meaning
' young man,' wrote Lewis Goldsmith, adding withal, ' No one
* will accuse me of partiality for the Bonapartean race.' The
young Napoleon thus comes before us as a man of distinctly
more masculine tone than his brother : remarkably handsome^
writes Count Orsi, above the middle size ; in shape and gait
perfection : —
' An expression of great intelligence and sweetness, a keen look in
his eyes mingled with simi^licitj- and kindness that was most lascinat-
ing, had made him the idol of Florentine society, and the pet son of
the Comte de St. Leu. His education had been carefully attended to,,
and his stock of knowledge and proficiency in classics, foreign languages,,
and in sciences particularly, had brought the most eminent men in
Florence to court his acquaintance and friendship.'
This is the verdict of a friendly judge, but there is no reason
to doubt its substantial accuracy. Prince Napoleon Louis
died too soon fully to confirm the good opinion of the friends
of his youth, but he is everywhere spoken of as a young man
256 The Bonapartes. Jan.
of very remarkable promise. It was at his special invitation
and in his company that Orsi attended a meeting of the
patriots. Orsi was heart and soul in the cause of independ-
ence, but did not believe in the prudence of revolt without
support. The Prince, on the other hand, maintained that,
with the French pledged to the doctrine of non-intervention,
circumstances had never been so favourable for Italy ; but
Orsi would put no faith in the French pi'omises.
' Louis Philippe,' he said, ' is not the man to risk his long-coveted
throne in a war with Austria. He will give in at the first summons
of the Austrian premier. He will become cowed. Austria will sweep
us away before Ave are in the battle-field, and the French king will be
the better for his treacherous policv.'
That this was fully understood by the statesmen of Europe
would appear from the letter of Lord Palmerston, then Foreign
Secretary, to Lord Granville at Paris : —
* I have not yet taken the opinion of the Cabinet; but I should
myself say to Fi-ance that it would not be worth her while to risk in-
volving all Europe in Avar for the sake of protecting the revolutionists
in Romagna. If we could by negotiation obtain for chem a little share
of constitutional liberty, so much the better ; but we are all interested
in maintaining peace, and no one more than Louis Philippe.'
It was, hoAvever, entirely on the understanding that France
Avould forbid the intervention of Austria, that the meeting was
held. The younger Menotti explained the details of tlie
proposed rising under the leadership of the Duke of Modena.
' He alone,' he said, ' can make us an independent nation. . . . The
understanding betAvcen the Duke of Modena and my brother is com-
plete, and the King of the French is secretly abetting all that is con-
cocted for a Avar against Austria, under protection of the principle of
non-intervention solemnly proclaimed by him. . . . The whole plan
rests on a fact Avhich cannot be questioned noAv — the principle of
non-intervention, Austria is shut up in her fortresses ; she is for-
bidden to move. She is doomed to be the simple spectator of Avhat Ave
do. Such an event could never have been hoped for, or even dreamed
of, by the most sanguine on earth. If Ave let this opportunity escitpe
Avithout making a desperate attempt to free our country, posterity Avill
be right in its judgment to stamp the Italians Avith the stigma of
cowards and slaves.'
Against all this, Orsi protested at great length. He did not
believe in Louis Philippe ; he did not believe in the Duke of
Modena, who Avas, he said, the most conspicuous champion of
absolutism, cruelty, and lust for money, notorious for his sub-
serviency to the Avill of Austria, and to the bigotry of Rome.
' One of the most remarkable features or this meeting,' Count Orsi
1882. The Botiapartes. 237
tells us, ' was the complete silence of Prince Louis Napoleon. He had
just arrived from Rome, and the information he was to give us con-
cerning the real position and plan of the insurrectionary forces already
in the tield waa the very tiling I had been anxiously awaiting. Not a
Avord was uttered by him. I could not account for it, nor did I deem
it advisable to appear to notice it.'
Afterwards, when the meeting had broken up, and Orsi was
again urging on the Prince the ill-advised nature of the insur-
rection, and the evil consequences which it would entail, an
him most of all, since, as a Frenchman, he ought to reserve
himself for French affairs, Prince Louis said : ' You lose sight
* of the engagements we have entered into, which we swore to
* perform.' ' Engagements ! with whom? ' said Orsi. ' With
* the secret society of Carbonari, of Avhich we are members,'
answered the Prince. ' I was not aware of it,' rejoined Orsi ;
* such being the case, I cannot help feeling even more anxious
' than I did before.' Prince Louis' connexion vfith the secret
societies has been often discussed, very positively asserted, and
very stoutly denied. Mi-. Jerrold quotes a letter from Count
Arese which says, ' It cannot be said that he was a Carbonaro,
* for the Prince always appeared strongly opposed to sects of
' all descriptions, even Avhen their object was a generous one.'^
It would seem, therefore, that he told Count Orsi that he was,
and Arese that he was not ; the presumption is, that his storv
to Count Orsi was the true one.
It was only two days after the meeting that news came of
the Austrian army, 20,000 strong, having crossed the Po.
The Duke of Modena notified to Menotti that this interventio-n
of the Austrians changed the face of affairs, and he would have
nothing more to do Avith the projected insurrection. On this,
Menotti called his people to arms and rose against the Duke ;
but was overpowered, taken prisoner, and executed on a
scaffold set up in front of his own house. Those who took up
arms in the Komagna Avere equally overpoAvcred by the Aus-
trian troops ; many Avere shot, many more Avere throAvn into
the dark noisome dungeons that have played so prominent a part
in Italian politics. The tAvo Bonaparte Princes Avere obliged,
like the rest, to look out for their own safety ; had they been
arrested, their shrift Avould probably haA^e been excessively
short. Hortense Avas, at the time, at Florence. An English
friend obtained for her a passport as, 'for an English lady
* travellino; Avith her tAvo sons throuoh Paris to Eno-Jand ; '
and so armed, she set out to look for them. The elder was
meanwhile taken ill of -measles, and died after a few days' ill-
ness ; Louis also Avas presently taken ill, but, beiug joined by
238 The Bonapartes. Jan.
his mother, ^vas nursed through his sickness, and eventually,
after many adventures, smuggled out of the country. They
were prohibited from entering France upon pain of death ;
but, with the English passport, they made for Paris, and threw
themselves on the forbearance of the King, to whom Prince
Louis wrote: —
*. . . I pray you, Sire, to open the gates of France to mo, and to
allow me to serve as a simple soldier. I could console myself for
absence from my country when, in an luifortunate land, liberty called
me under her standards ; but now that courage lias been compelled to
yield to numbers, I have found myself obliged to fly from Italy.
Nearly all the states of Europe are closed upon me. France is tlie
only one where it would not be reproached to me as a crime that I had
embraced the sacred cause of a people's independence ; but a cruel
law banishes me. Separated from my family, inconsolable for the loss
of my brother . . . life Avould be insupportable to me if I did not con-
tinue to hope that your Majesty will permit me to return as simple
citizen to the French ranks, happy if one day I may die fighting for my
country.'
It has been said that Louis Philippe was not averse to per-
mitting him to remain in France ; but his miuisters pronounced
it impossible. The Prince and his mother were ordered to
leave Paris. They replied, that the Prince was confined to
bed with a severe relapse. But his presence in Paris began
to be talked of. On May 5 there was rioting round the column
in the Place Vendome ; cries of'' Vive V Empereur ! ' were heard.
It was reported that Prince Louis had been seen in the crowd ;
and a peremptory order was sent, that ' unless the Prince's life
* was absolutely in danger, they must leave instantly.' They
accordingly passed over to England.
Mr. Jerrold, who takes his account entirely from the state-
ments of the Duchess of St. Leu, says that *not a single
* friend kncAV that they had been twelve days in Paris ; the
* Prince had been a prisoner in his room nearly all the time.'
If this was true, if the Prince was in bed in a high fever, and
with leeches on his throat, the story of his having been seen
amongst the rioters on the Place Vendome might be put on
one skIc, although M. Guizot, in his ' Memoires,' seems to
attach some weight to it. Unfortunately, however, for his
argument, Mr. Jerrold I'elies exclusively on Queen Hortense's
statement, and supports the story of Prince Louis' illness by
no corroborative evidence. But clearly if the illness was a
pretence, and Louis, instead of being in bed, was actively
engaged in fomenting disturbance, the Queen was a party to
the plot, and her evidence is worthless. And, on the other
hand, M. Claude, the Chief of the Police, whose ' Memoirs '
1882. The Bonapartes. 239
are now in course of publication, says positively that at this
time, while Prince Louis was supposed to be sick in bed, he
himself met him, in disguise, in one of the worst haunts of
thieves and murderers, over whom he had some mysterious
influence, and whom, in fact, he was preparing to take part
in a violent outbreak. He says also that, by a curious acci-
dent, the Prince, on leaving this den, was arrested by a party
of police, imprisoned in Sainte-Pelagie, and from there hurried
out of the country to join his mother in England ; that but for
this the riot of May 5 would have been merely the prologue
to a serious insurrection. He further adds his conviction that
some of these midnight adventures of Prince Louis were known
to Eugene Sue, and that they suggested to him the character
of Prince Rodolphe, and some of the incidents of the ' Mysteres
' de Paris.' We are not prepared to say that Claude's ' Me-
* moirs ' are to be accepted as rigidly historical ; we think
that much of the colouring may be romance, and that the
writer is often biassed by his political prejudices ; but we
believe that the principal facts are correctly stated, and that,
so far as relates to the visit of Prince Louis to Paris in 1831,
M. Claude's evidence is at least as good as that of Queen
Hortense.
The death of iS^apoleon Louis had opened a new vista to
Louis Napoleon. Next to the Duke of Reichstadt, he Avas
now the recognised head of the Bonapartes, for the older
generation had retired from the field. Lucien indeed was not
consulted ; it was admitted by the Bonapartists that he and
his family were barred from the succession. But an attempt
was made to rouse Joseph to action. Joseph, as Count de
Survilliers, was in America, and refused point-blank to put
himself forward in any way. Count Orsi gives an interesting-
account of a journey he made across the Atlantic, in order to
try and rouse him. Joseph was only anxious to be allowed
to spend his days in peace.
' Bear well in mind,' he said to Orsi, ' tliat if the French people
want any of our family to establish a provisional government in the
name of the son of Napoleon I., they know where we are ; but as to
our agitating the country by underhand proceedings or conspiracies,
or l:iy abetting military revolutions likely to create civil war, never
shall we lend ourselves to anything of the kind. United Europe has
vanquished my brother, the Emperor. His downfall has brought our
own. He gave up the throne rather than foster civil war, which he
bad a horror of. We must not act at variance with his principles.
We do not think much of power acquired by illegal means.'
Louis, Count de St. Leu, was morosely of the same opinion.
240 The Bonapartes. Jan.
He dreaded any act wliicli might give umbrage to the great
Powers, and had already expressed his displeasure at the part
his sons had taken in the Italian insurrection. And though
in name the undoubted head of the family, and the centre of
the hopes of the Bonapartists, the Duke of Reichstadt was
virtually a prisoner of state in Vienna. He was, too, in deli-
cate health, and he does not seem to have had either the tem-
per or the genius of a conspirator. Had he lived, he would
have acted rather as a drag on Bonapartist aspirations ; but
he died^ young, on July 22, 1832, and the day-dreams of
Louis Napoleon began to assume a more visible form. The
intimate friend of his youth, Madame Cornu, has said that
* from the day of his brother's death he Avas a different man.
* I can compare his feelings as to his mission only to those
* which urged our first apostles and martyrs ; ' and that by his
mission he understood ' a devotion, first to the Napoleonic
* dynasty, then to France ; ' 'his duty to his dynasty Avas to
'perpetuate it ; his duty to France was to give her influence
'abroad and prosperity at home.' His actual mission, mean-
time, was to write pamphlets and to bring his name continu-
ally before the public. For the next few years, during which
he resided with his mother at Arenenberg, he Avas occupied
principally with such work, setting forth under different pretexts
the merits of the Napoleonic government. Here is a sample as
rendered by Mr. Jerrold : —
' Let us be just, Frenchmen, and let us render thanks to the man
who, sprung Irora the ranks of the people, did everything for their
prosperity, who enlightened them, and secured the independence of
their country. If, some day, the people \_les j^euples] are free, they
will owe it to Napoleon. He accustomed the people [le pevple'] to
virtue, which is the only basis of a republic. His dictatorship should
not be cited against him ; it led us towards liberty, as the iron bar {Je
soc defer] which turns up the earth creates the fertility of the fields.
He spread [c'est lui qui iiorta'] civilisation from the Tagus to the
Vistula; he rooted \_qui envaciaa'] in France the principles of the
Ilepublic'
Or again : —
' It was not for the sake merely of giving crowns to his family that
he made his brothers kings, but that each might be, in his country',
the pillar of a new edifice. He made them kings that people should
believe in his security and not in his ambition. He put his brothers in
power because they alone could conciliate the idea of change with the
appearance of immutability, because they alone could, in spite of their
royalty, submit to his wishes, because they alone could be recompensed
for the loss of a kingdom by becoming once again French princes '
in fact, because they alone could or Avould be puppets in the
1882. The Bonapartes. 241
hands of Napoleon. And, strange as it may seem, Mr. Jer-
rold has not the faintest idea that Prince Louis was writing
nonsense ; his only comment on it all is : — * In these and other
* passages we perceive how thoroughly Prince Louis' mind
^ was saturated with the Napoleonic idea, and how he per-
' sisted in interpreting it as that which was to free and reo-ene-
^rate the nations of the earth.'
His first step towards freeing and regenerating them was
the attempt at Strasburg on October 30, 183G. The de-
tails of this are familiar enough. Dressed up to resemble
the First Napoleon, and introduced to the artillery of the
garrison by their commanding officer, he was recognised by
them as Napoleon II. ; but, passing on from the artillery to
the parade-ground of the infantry, he was there arrested, and
together with his immediate following was, ignominiously
enough, shoved into prison. Mr. Jerrold denies the dressing
up ; he says the Prince wore his Swiss military coat, but adds
that he wore also the star and riband of the Legion of Honour,
a cocked hat, and the epaulettes of a colonel. But in the Swiss
army he was a captain. * The colonel's epaulettes,' he says, ' were
* put on in obedience to the Napoleonic tradition. Napoleon I.
* was always dressed as a colonel of the chasseurs or grenadiers
^ of his guard.' We think, then, that we might almost leave
Mr. Jerrold to confute himself; but regardless of this, and
quite irrespective of the accounts published at the time, it was
sworn on the trial, by an old officer who knew Napoleon I.
well, that the Prince ' was dressed in a costume similar to
* that which the Emperor used to wear.'
But it is not only in such matter of detail that we differ
from Mr. Jerrold. We are distinctly at variance with him in
our estimate of the whole affair. His position is : —
' That the motives of the chief actor were neither base nor selfish ; that
lie had been a close student of the living history of his time, and had
formed a theory of government based on that of his imcle, in which he
believed with his Avhole heart and soul ; that he never intended to
seize upon the crown of France, but to submit her destinies to an
orderly expression of the national will ; and in fine, that the means to
the end had been prepared and adjusted with the greatest patience and
skill. The failure was an accident ; and after the failure the means
were hidden in order to screen scores of officers who had held them-
selves ready to support the Prince.'
There is scarcely one clause of this that we can accept. We
believe indeed in the patience, but not in the skill ; and we
know of no accident to cause the failure, unless the presence
or the loyalty of the infantry colonel is to be so considered.
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. R
242 The Bonapartes. Jan,
We have already seen that the Prince considered the re-esta-
blishment of the dynasty as the first object of his mission, the
advantage of France as but secondary ; and we are convinced
that the mark at which he aimed then and afterwards was the
crown of France. Base he may not have been ; selfish, as
preferring his dynastic claims to the welfare of tlie country,
he assuredly was.
Prince Louis being a prisoner, caught in the very act of
sedition, his guilt required no proof, and the Government, un-
willing, probably enough afraid, to make his name a centre of
excitement, determined simply to send him out of the country.
He Avas accordingly shipped off to America on board a man-
of-war, going in the first instance to Rio. It was thus not
till nearly five months after his departure that he landed at
Norfolk, in Virginia, and was able to communicate with his
friends in France. His accomplices had meantime been
brought to trial ; the main facts charged against them had
been proved or indeed admitted — for the defence found little
to urge beyond idle rhapsody and appeals to the magic of
Napoleon's name, Napoleon, the conqueror of Austerlitz ; and
the jury, almost without deliberation, had pronounced through
their foreman, ' Before God and before men, on my soul and
' on my conscience, on all the questions. No, the accused are
' not guilty.' We have had too often, even among ourselves,
proof that in political cases a jury will vote for popular ap-
plause rather than for truth; and in this case the jury would
seem to have been carried away by the claptrap appeals, the
impassioned oratory of the counsel for the defence.
But though deported to America, Prince Louis was not
under any obhgation to stay there ; and on receiving news
of his mother's ill-health, he determined at once to return
to Europe. He sailed from Ncav York on June 12, and
arrived in London on July 10, 1837. A good deal has
been said at different times of the intimate knowledge he had
of American character, acquired during his stay in America.
It is well, therefore, specially to notice that he was in the
States for exactly two months, neither more nor less ; and
though during that time he led a social and festive, not to
say dissipated life, frequented the public billiard rooms, and
was enrolled as a member of tlie ' Grand Order of Owls ' —
a convivial club ' Avhose esoteric sittings in select council Avere
' held in the spacious cupola of Holt's Hotel ' — the citizens of
Ncav York must be not only more representative of the
American people than they are commonly supposed to be, but
must Avear their hearts curiously on their sleeves, if two
1882. , The Bonapartes. 243
months thus spent among them permitted the Prince, with but
an imperfect knowledge of the language, to learn very much
of the peculiarities of American character.
Once in London, he was anxious to go on to join his mother
at Arenenberg; but the Continental Powers were by no
means anxious to have him wandering about in their terri-
tories. He affected to think it strange that he should be re-
fused passports. ' What have I done,' he wrote, ' to be the
' pariah of Europe ? I have raised for a moment in a French
* town the flag of Austerlitz, and 'I have offered myself as a
* holocaust to the memory of the prisoner of St. Helena.' He
did, however, get to Arenenberg with a false passport, and
for the last two months of her life was present by the bed-
side of his mother. She died on October 5, a Avoman of
whom much ill has been spoken, and not undeservedly, hut
who, with many faults, was an affectionate, perhaps too affec-
tionate mother, concentrating on her one remaining son that
wealth of love which, in youth, she had dispensed freely to all
comers. She left six or seven volumes of memoirs, which, we
are told, are never to be published in their entirety. Mr.
Jerrold, who has had access to them, says : —
' They are full of exaggerations and indiscretions, of high-flown sen-
timents and hasty verdicts on men and women. Throughout there is
evidence of a generous spirit, a warm heart, and of a penetrating mind.
The intimate descriptions of Napoleon are in many passages admirable,
and would be valuable to history as showing the warmer side of his
character. . . . She represents her husband as a domestic tyrant, with
whom it Avas impossible to live ; but it is easy to see by the context
that what she called tyranny was the endeavour of a serious man to
curb the wild exuberance of a frivolous woman, who found most of
her pleasure away from the fireside, and who had been spoiled by the
adoration of a brilliant court. . . . She knew that she had not been a
good wife to him, and in her will she acknowledged it. Her frailties
were beyond question, nor does she deny them in the final record of
her life. She explains, idealises, and moralises, seeking to bewitch
rather than to satisfy the judgment of the reader.'
As character sketches they may be interesting ; but as his-
tory there is no reason to suppose them other than utterly
w^orthless.
For some months after his mother's death, Prince Louis
remained in Switzerland, his presence known indeed, but con-
temptuously ignored, by the French Government. He deter-
mined to provoke recognition of some sort, and, in the summer
of 1838, published a violent pamphlet containing his account of
the attempt at Strasburg. This, though virtually by himself,
was nominally by one of his accomplices. Lieutenant Laity,
244 The Bunnpai-tea. Jan.
Avhom the jury had tleclared not guilty of what he gloried in.
He was now tried for the pamphlet before the Court of Peers,
who, being less emotional, more honest, or more loyal to the
existing Government, than the Strasburg jury, found him
guilty, condemned him to five years' imprisonment, to pay a
fine of 10,000 francs, and to be subject to police surveillance
for the remainder of his life. Mr. Jerrold is indignant at ' the
* shameless severity of the sentence.' We do not agree with
him. The trial may have been impolitic ; it might^ — accord-
ing to English ideas, it woidd — have been better to have merely
suppressed the pamphlet, or to have left it unnoticed; but
when a prosecution was resolved on, the Government Avas
bound to press for a sentence as severe as the law would give.
For it was known that the Bonapartists looked on the case as
a test of the public pulse, and that the condemnation of
M. Laity was virtually the condemnation of the Bonapartist
cause. The Government was quick to follow up the sentence
by a formal and peremptory demand that Louis Napoleon
should be compelled to quit the Swiss territory. He had,
they pointed out, made Arenenberg openly the centre of
intrigues ; and they were bound by duty to require the Diet
not to tolerate such within its borders, nor to permit Louis
Napoleon to call himself, at the same time, a citizen of Switzer-
land and a pretender to the throne of France. The Swiss
Diet thought it right, for the dignity of the country, to refuse,
although the French Government was prepared to use force, if
necessary ; but the Prince ended the matter by voluntarily
departing. He came over to England, where, mostly in
London, he resided for the next two years.
It was during that time that he wrote and published his
* Idces Napoleoniennes,' intended, no doubt, as a spirit-stirring
appeal to the French nation, but which, in fact, only showed
that he had brooded over the memory of his uncle, with, it
would really seem, a very imperfect or incorrect knowledge of
his history, until he had lost himself in a species of monomania.
How else can we explain, how else can Ave pardon, such a
paragraph as ' Great men have this in common with the
* Divinity, that they do not wholly die. Their spirit survives
* them ; and the Napoleonic idea has sprung from the tomb of
' St. Helena, as the moral of the Evangelist rose triumphant
* from the agony of Calvary.' If this is not madness, it is
blasphemy.
In England he would seem to have passed his time in gay
ahd dissipated society ; he hunted, he shot, he gambled, he
masqueraded at the Eglinton tournament ; he fought, or.
1882, The Bonapartes. 245
more strictly, did not fight, a duel with his illegitimate cousin,
Count Leon ; and with what seemed a natural talent for get-
ting into ridiculous situations, was, together with the Count,
taken before a Bow Street magistrate and bound over, in
500/., to keep the peace. Finally, as the summer of 1840
passed on, he planned and attempted a landing at Boulogne,
which resulted in a failure as complete and ridiculous as that
at Strasburg. On this expedition Count Orsi accompanied
him, or, to speak more strictly, managed the whole as the
Prince's man of business. He it was who chartered the
steamer as for a pleasure party, and carried out all the ar-
rangements ; and he it is Avho now exj)lains to us the details,
and shows that, had everything gone exactly as it was in-
tended, the result might have been different.
It appeared in all the papers of the day, and has often been
told since, how, early in the morning of August 6, Prince
Louis, with a small body of friends, landed near Boulogne,
disguised in the uniform of the 42nd Regiment of the line,
then in garrison there ; how he marched on Boulogne, ad-
dressed the soldiers, was turned out of the barracks by the com-
mandant, and endeavoured to get back on board the steamer ;
how the boat was upset; how the Prince, half-drowned, was
fished out of the water, taken on shore, and, together with
his companions, sent up to Paris, covered with ridicule, and
popularly described as les homines not du six aout, but de six
sous, or, as we might freely translate it, ' a twopenny-half-
* penny lot.' On all this there is nothing further to say ; but
it appears from Count Orsi's narrative that the landing was
planned not for the 6th, but for the 5th ; that for that day
the redoubted Commandant, Captain Col-Puygellier, had been
invited to a shooti,ng party, and would therefore be out of
the way ; and that the whole thing turned, or was believed
to turn, on that expected absence ; for it was well known that
the Commandant, besides being a man who could do his duty
unflinchingly, Avas also a staunch Kepublican, and that, as
such, nothing would induce him to join the Imperial pretender.
Without him, they might hope, they conceived they had
reason to hope, that the battalion would hail the Prince. But
there was little margin for delay ; and on the 4th, when the
Prince was preparing to leave London, he found himself
closely followed by spies of the French police. In endeavour-
ing to shake them off, time slipped away, so that it was night
before he could get on board the steamer at Gravesend. The
tide was then adverse ; it was impossible to get oiF Boulogne
in time, and the attempt Avas necessarily postponed till the
246 The Bonapartes. Jan.
6th ; the only question was whether it should not be put ofl
altogether. Orsi, the business man of the party, pointed out
that to return to London would be difficult, on account of the
' contraband " they had on board, in the shape of arms, uniforms,
and proclamations. It did not occur to them that these things
might be got rid of by the simple process of throwing them
overboard ; and the problem, ais Orsi stated it to the Prince,
took this form : —
' By going back to London we become the laughing-stock of every-
body — ridicule will kill us. If we cross the Channel, we run the risk
of being shot, or imprisoned, for a more or less length of time. Of
the two, I prefer the latter. As regards yourself, nothing v.'ould be
more disastrous to your future prospects than being shown up to the
public as a man who, at the eleventh hour, has been acted upon by
considerations of a purely personal character. Let us save at least our
honour, if we are doomed to lose everything else.'
On this it was unanimously agreed to make the attempt. It
was therefore made; but, as had been feared. Captain Col-
Puygellier came on the scene just as the soldiers Avere perhaps
wavering. The men who had begun to cry ' Vive le Prince ! '
now cried ^ Vive uotre Capitaine ! ' General Montholon, an
old Imperialist, said, ' Here is Prince Louis Napoleon I Follow
' us. Captain, and yoii will get anything you like.' To which,
the Captain made answer, ' Prince Louis or not, I do not
' know you. Napoleon, your predecessor, has overthrown
' legitimacy, and it is not the right thing for you to attempt
* vindicating it in this place. Evacuate the barracks at once.'
Count Orsi thinks now, as he thought then, that but for this
provoking delay, but for this appearance of Captain Col-
Puygellier, all would have been right ; that the battalion would
have declared for Louis Napoleon ; that they would have
marched on Paris, the army everywhere joining them, would
have at once turned out the King and the Government, and
taken possession. All this must be matter of opinion. It is
impossible in history to speculate on what might have hap-
pened had circumstances been different ; but, in any case, w^e
cannot ignore the statement of M. Guizot, then Ambassador
in London, that the French Government was quite Avell aware
of the intrigues that were going on, and that the garrisons in
the several towns had been tampered Avitli ; and also that due
precautions had been taken at all points of the coast and the
frontier. Louis Napoleon and his associates were tried before
the Court of Peers, and were sentenced to different terms of
imprisonment, the Prince himself for life. He was accord-
ingly shut up in the fortress of Ham, near St. Quentin, and
1882. The Bonapartes, 247
there he was kept for more than five years, closely guarded
indeed, in a room which Mr. Jerrold, guided by the prisoner's
pretensions rather than by his real position, considers dis-
graceful, but otherwise treated with much consideration,
allowed as many books or philosophical instruments as he
■chose to purchase, a rubber of -whist in the evening with his
two companions and his governor, and, by special permission,
to receive his friends.
The most serious part of the Boulogne affair threatened,
indeed, to be its effect on the relations between France and
England, already strained almost to breaking by the Treaty
■of July and the intervention of the Four Powers in Syria.
An English steamer had brought over the conspirators,
had served them as head-quarters and base of operations.
Undoubtedly, it Avas argued, this steamer was put at their
disposal, if not directly by the English Government, at
any rate by its connivance. The French Government was
at once undeceived, and expressed itself perfectly satisfied ;
but the popular excitement continued for some time to be very
great, and gave rise to much ill-feeling, which, by a curious
contrariness of disposition, the arrival at Brest of the remains of
Napoleon I. seemed rather to increase. These had been asked
for by M. Thiers, apparently with the intention of making
capital out of the anticipated refusal. They had been given by
the English Government in the hope of conciliating the French
people, not perhaps without a certain flavour of malice on the
part of Lord Palmerston, who might suspect they would prove
a, source of embarrassment to the French monarchy by rekind-
ling the Napoleonic tradition. At any rate they had been freely
given up as soon as asked for ; and now the French people were
indignant, having possibly a secret feeling that in the surrender
there was just a grain of contempt, but, to listen to the decla-
mations, it might have been supposed that they had been won
back by force or extorted by threats. M. Thiers, addressing
the Assembly on the subject of the Eastern treaty and the
•capture of Acre, said : —
'France has been grossly duped; a pretext has been sought and
found to break off her alliance ; a treaty was made without her know-
ledge and consent. I do not accuse the EngHsh people, I do not accuse
the English Cabinet, but I do accuse one man, and that man is Lord
Palmerston. Whenever Europe, the whole of Europe, should say to
US " If you do not choose such and such a thing, we will do it without
■"■ you and in spite of you," I would cry " War ! let us be what our
" fathers were, and let us never descend from the rank to which they
•^* raised us." '
248 The Bonapartes. Jan.
And M. Berryer followed in the same vein : —
* I hear the cannon of St. Jean d'Acre, T hear the cannon, the Englisli
cannon, beating down the walls of that town before which Napoleon
was checked ; but I also hear the cannon which announces the arrival
of the mortal remains which have so long been held captive by the
English. Will you allow these remains to descend into the tomb
without making a protest which shall fill with joy the manes of that
enemy of England ? '
Common sense, however, ultimately prevailed. M. Thiers
resigned, and a more pacific administration was formed under
the presidency of M. Guizot.
In his prison at Ham, Louis Napoleon devoted hiraself^
steadily to study. History, politics, mechanics, physics, che-
mistry, all had their turn. For a prisoner he was comfortable
enough, and in after years used to speak of having studied at
the University of Ham. It was a university that he, not un-
naturally, longed to quit ; and in May, 1846^ he took the
opportunity, when a number of workmen were busy about some
repairs, to dress himself up like a joiner, shave off his mous-
tache, shoulder a plank, and walk past the sentry out through
the gate. At a little distance a carriage was waiting for
him ; he flung the plank into a ditch, and was driven off
through St. Quentin to Cambrai, where he took the train, and
so got into Belgium, and thence to England. There he stayed,
and there he still was when the Revolution of 1848 broke out.
He immediately hastened over to Paris, where the Bonapartist
faction was secretly at work. The disturbed state of the
country, even if they had not contribvited to it, was their
opportunity. Within a few hours after the Prince's arrival
his portraits appeared in every shop-window on the Boulevards ;.
they bore no name, but the word Lui ! And though, in nar-
rating this incident. Count Orsi implies that it marked the
yearning of the people and the nation for the exiled family,
Ave may fairly believe that it shows rather the activity and
diligence of the family's agents. The Provisional Govern-
ment was not, however, in the mood to submit to the dictation-
of the Bonapartists, and desired ' Lui ' to leave Paris. His
friend and indefatigable agent, Fialin, Avho had some few year^
before created himself Viscount de Persigny, urged him to
refuse ; others recommended the same. He, however, judged
that his time was not yet come. He returned to England, and
served in the streets of London, actually as a special constable,,
on the occasion of the memorable Chartist gathering of April
10. But meantime his agents, Persigny, Laity, and others,
were untirintr. The decrees of the banishment of the Bona-
1882. The Bonapartes. 249
partes were annulled, and iu the April elections Louis
Napoleon was elected four times over. The agitation was
kept up.
' On June 10, two Bonapartist papers appeared — " L'Aigle repu-
" blicaine" and "La Constitution ; " on the following day the " Na-
" poleon republicain ; " on the 12th the " Napoleonien ; " and before
the 18th the " Petit Caporal" and the " Eedingote grise" had followed.
These journals were spread broadcast over the country, and created in
a few Aveeks a formidable Bonapartist party, with ramifications in every
class of society. The train of powder was laid upon dry ground.'
Mr. Jerrold acknowledges that all this was the work of
Persigny and his fellows, but appears to think that the cries
of ' Vive Louis Napoleon ! ' ' Vive I'Empereur ! ' heard every
now and again, Avere purely spontaneous ; there is, we be-
lieve, no real doubt about their being the voice of a gigantic
claque — a body of hired agents, known afterwards as allumeurs
— of which Persigny was the fugleman. The Prince's election
was, however, so violently opposed by the Assembly itself, that
he shrank from taking his seat, and placed his resignation in
the hands of the President. In September, when tranquillity
was restored, he again came forward, was elected for five dif-
ferent departments, and on the 25th made his first appearance
in the Assembly. It was somewhat of a failure, for he had
no oratorical skill, and neither in voice nor in mien was he formed
by nature as a leader of men. But he was astute, secret,
impressed with the grandeur of his destiny, and utterly un-
scrupulous. His very failures Avere now serviceable to him,
for in the eyes of many he was too ridiculous to be dangerous.
And he knew, his party kncAv all along exactly what they
wanted ; no one else did. A letter of Proudhon's, Avritten at
this time, may be accepted as a fair description of the confu-
sion. He says : —
' What causes all our political miscalculations and this year's mysti-
fications is that a lot of idiots who have been talking of the Kepublic
for eighteen years, Avithout ever for a minute having tried to form an
idea of what that Eepubhc ought to be, found themselves, in February,
masters of the government. There is a story of a ship engaged in the
slave trade, on board Avhich the negroes rose up and massacred the
crew, but then found themselves in a dilemma as to the conduct of the
vessel. This is the position of our seh-styled revolutionary statesmen,.
Avho are mere pothouse politicians.'
And thus, Avhen, in December, the nation Avas called on to
elect a President, Louis Napoleon's name came out with an
overwhelming majority; it had five and a half millions of
votes out of a total of seven and a half millions. Cavaignac,
250 The Bonapartes. Jan.
the second on the list, had barely fifteen hnndred thousand.
Everything had worked together to produce this result ; the
confusion of faction, the want of purpose so plainly spoken of
by Proudhon, the belief that Prince Louis was a safe man of
no ability — such considerations went far with many Avho were
by no means Bonapartists, but in addition to this, and to the
really large party who meant Bonapartism, the Bonapartist
missionaries were busy throughout the country. They secured
tlie clerical vote ; everywhere the clergy instructed their flock
to vote for Louis Napoleon ; in some parishes the cure mus-
tered his people and marched them to the poll, himself at their
head. In many places the ignorant peasants were led to be-
lieve that the Bonaparte, for whom their votes were asked,
was the great Emperor himself, escaped from the cruel hands
of the English. Of course : had they not heard only a few
years before of his return to France ? Dead or alive, what
difference to them ? The very name of Napoleon or of Bona-
parte had magic in the sound. Every vote they had should be
his. According to the method prescribed, if not practised, in
America, they would vote early ; if possible, they Avould vote
often.
It was on December 20, 1848, that the President of
the Assembly proclaimed the result of the elections, and that
Louis Napoleon, stepping forward and raising his hand, swore,
* in the presence of God and before the French people, to
^ remain faithful to the democratic Republic, and to defend the
* Constitution.' Political oaths are as cobwebs ; they catch
flies, but wasps go through them. In the present instance the
new President added to the oath a formal declaration prepared
beforehand, which he now drew from his pocket, unfolded, and
read : ' I shall regard as enemies to the country all who may
' endeavour by illegal means to change the form of government
* which you have established.' Are we to suppose that in
making this solemn declaration Louis Napoleon was wilfully
perjuringhimself, having already determined to seize on absolute
power ? We think not. We believe rather that he trusted
to the chapter of events, and hoped to be able to modify the
Constitution by constitutional means. We are quite Avilling
to accept Mr. Jerrold's view, that when he assumed power ' he
' was thoroughly sincere in his efforts to form a national party
* that would put an end to the republican and monarchic fac-
* tions, and establish a free government based on the popular
* will ; ' but we think that his idea of ' free government '
and * popular will ' included a considerable amount of de-
pendence on and deference to the Napoleonic tradition, and
1882. The Bonapartea. 251
that be thus endeavoured to subdue the several factions of
which the Assembly was made up, on the great principle of
* Divide and rule.' The moderate Republicans had already
crushed the Socialists, Terrorists, and Reds. He now used
the Monarchists to break the power of the Republicans, the
Legitimists to control the Orleanists, the Orleanists, again, to
curb the Legitimists ; with the general result, as stated by Mr.
Senior at the time in this Journal, that in October, 1849,
* the French are, at this instant, more the subjects of a single
" Avill than they have been under any king since the death of
' Louis XIY.'
'It is,' he wrote in his private journal, 'a marvellous instance of
the folly with Avhich great affairs are generally conducted that a people
which assumes to be the first, and certainly is among the first nations
in the most civilised period of the world's existence, should have turned
out the family under which it has been growing great for centuries,
and the king who has given to it prosperity such as it never enjoyed
in any previous period of its brilliant history, and thrown its fate
into the hands of an adventurer, unacquainted with the country,
inexperienced in politics, and even in ordinary business, whose only
achievements have been the two most unprincipled and senseless
enterprises of modern times.'*
But by degrees the several parties discovered the cause,
not so much of their own weakness as of the President's
strength. They prepared to use against him the tactics of
which they had been the victims, and during the course of 1851
it became sufficiently evident that a combination of parties
might attempt to overthrow the President, or that the Presi-
dent might violently break up the combination. How^ this
was finally done is, after thirty years, a still fresh and living
story.
f Admitting that in the relative position of the President and
the coalition, one or other was forced to resign or to strike, we
are compelled to accept the couj) d'etat as a political necessity ;
illegal, unconstitutional, but in a revolutionary time neither
criminal nor dishonourable ; and we therefore find no fault
witb the force and vigour of the blow. The secret and simul-
taneous arrest of all leaders of the opposition, the suppression
of all newspapers, the seizure of all printing presses, the dis-
solution of the Assembly, the dispersion of the Representatives
— all these measures, arbitrary of course, were, under the cir-
cumstances and from the Bonapartist point of view, just and
* Edinburgh Review, vol. xci. p. 271 ; Journals in France and
Italy, vol. i. p. 51.
252 The Bonapartes. Jan.
prudent : nor -vrere they more illegal than the converse measures
would have been ; such, for instance, as the driving the Prince
President and his partisans to Vincenncs in the police-van, as
Changarnier had, somewhat prematurely, expressed his readi-
ness to do. And thus, though we do not endorse the Napo-
leonic idea, though we think Bonapartism the worst possible
form of government, the most demoralising form of tyranny,
we do not agree with those enemies of Louis Napoleon wha
have said, as Victor Hugo has said, that the precautions taken
to forestall opposition, to prevent a conflict, to ensure success,
were so many marks of cowardice. On the contrary, we can-
not but approve of the care, the forethought, and the courage
which arranged and dictated the Avhole, without knowing and
without seeking to know whether the author of each detail
was Louis Napoleon himself, or was rather some one of his chosen
friends and, for the time being, fellow-conspirators. That
Morny, that Fleury, that St. Arnaud, that Maupas, each had
his share, and a very important share, in the design, as in the
execution, may be accepted ; but we see no reason to doubt
that the Prince President was himself the soul and origin of
the whole. The study of his character shows him to us as a
man in whom the forethought, the precision, the arrangement
of detail was almost constitutional, and by intellectual training,
by solitude, by brooding over the ' idea,' had become almost
instinctive. His companions, on the other hand, were men of
action, keen and ready wit, large and varied experience, ad-
venturers certainly, and not perhaps in the best sense of the
word, but devoted to the cause of the President, which they
had seen reason to believe was their own.
Of these, Morny was the undoubted chief. Mr. Jerrold,
who cannot recognise any scandal reflecting on the Bonapartes,
knows nothing of Count de Morny's parentage. It was,
however, a very open secret : in fact Morny rather prided
himself on his birth ; so much so, that, according to M.
Granier de Cassagnac, Avhen, in 1856, he went to Russia to
represent the French Emperor at the coronation of the Czar,
he took for armes parlantes a hortensia in flower, with the
device Tace, sed memento. But it was not merely his tacitly
admitted relationship that constituted him the Prince's chief
adviser. A man of wit, tact, quickness, courage, well ac-
quainted Avith Parisian society, experienced in business, and
entirely free from troublesome scruples, he was, alike by nature
and education, the complement of his half-brother, and entered
at once into his fullest confidence. We see no reason to
question the generally received fact that M. de Morny's share
1882. The Bonapartes. 253
in the coup cVetat was almost that of a principal. The story-
is told that on the evening of December 1 he ^yas at the
opera, when a lady said to hhn, ' M. de Morny, is it true that
they are going to make a clean sweep of the Chamber?'
' Madame,' replied Morny, ' I know nothing of it ; but if the
broom is to be used in that way, I'll try to be on the side of
the handle.' On the side of the handle he certainly was the
next morning, and continued so till his death in 1865.
All this, however, does not in the least remove the entire
responsibility of the coup d'etat from Louis Napoleon ; and
had it been a coup d'etat simply, we should have considered
that responsibility no greater than must be borne by any man
who, in troubled times, is called to a foremost position. But
the events which followed fall into a totally different category :
and we have no hesitation in saying that on the head of Louis
Napoleon rests the guilt of the murder of hundreds of unoffend-
ing citizens on December 4. We at once admit that the
number of the killed has been absurdly exaggerated ; but we
hold that, beyond any doubt whatever, it was extremely large.
In the absence of all exact data, it is impossible to form any
satisfactory estimate ; but the concurrence of reports leads us
to suppose that it might be reckoned by thousands rather than
by hundreds ; and certainly that the official return of 380 in
all is a downright misstatement of a fact that must have been
approximately known to the Prefect of Police. But Mr. Jer-
rold is easy of belief when the honour of a Bonaparte has to
be defended ; and he frankly accepts every contradiction or
allegation made by the murderer's chief agents. There was no
such slaughter, he says, for M. de Maupas says there was
not : there is not a word of truth in the story, for Colonel
rieury says it is altogether a lie. If Mr. Jerrold had not been
blinded by prejudice, he could not have attributed to the state-
ments of these men the weight that he has done ; nor could he
have penned such pages as those in which he comments on the
story of this blood-red 4th of December.
During the following year the will of the people, as expressed
in popular shouts, appeared to call on Louis Napoleon to re-
establish the Empire. Shouts of * Vive TEmpereur ! ' ' Vive Na-
poleon III! ' greeted him everywhere ; and at a public dinner
at Bordeaux on October 9 he announced his intention of
yielding.
' Never,' he said, ' did a people express in a more direct, spontaneous,
and unanimous manner their desire to be freed from anxiety in the
future, by consolidating in the same hands a power which has their
sympathies. . . , There exists, however, a fear which I should dissi-
254 The Bonajiartes. Jan.
pate. Mistrusting j^ersons say to themselves, the Empire means war.
I say the Empire means peace. It means peace, because France
desires it; and Avhen France is satisfied, the world is tranquil . . .
and woe to him who shall be the first to give to Europe the sif^nal
of a collision, the consequences of which are incalculable.'
Hence, i\\Qn, i\\Q plebiscite on November 21 and 22,1852.
The people as a body had been won, possibly cajoled : un-
doubtedly every effort was made to ensure success, to brino-
every possible supporter to the poll. Mr. Jcrrold has no
intention of magnifying these efforts ; indeed he ignores them ;
but his description of some incidents of the voting may speak
for itself.
' The weather on the two election days was bad tliroughout France.
In many parts so violent a storm raged that it was impossible for
voters to reach their polling places. In the country, hosts of pea-
sants, some headed by their cures, braved swollen torrents and floods
of rain, swept by the hurricane, in order to record their vote. ... In
Paris, the aged and the sick were carried to the polling places. A
general, ninety-one years of age, presented himself, but "had not the
strength to ascend the staircase, and the urn was borne to his carriao-e.
The chocolate manufacturer, M. Menier, suffering from an attack of
apoplexy, caused himself to be carried in an armchair to the poll. An
old soldier of ninety presented himself, with his voting paper, in the
arms of his son.'
About the result there was no doubt. The number of noes
was absolutely small ; the number of ayes swelled to close on
eight millions, and amounted to practical unanimity. The
leaders of opposing factions felt their impending defeat most
bitterly. The vote of the nation would seem to all Europe
to condemn them, to approve their enemy. And the means
by which they endeavoured to s^vay it were neither manly,
honest, nor patriotic. They took refuge in London or the
Channel Isles, and issued violent manifestoes ; they bespat-
tered Louis Xapoleon with foul epithets. Ledru Rollin
preached assassination ; Louis Blanc preached civil Avar; and
Victor Hugo, ' from his _ place of safety, told the people to
' load their guns and wait for the hour when the raalefectors
' would be in the hands of the executioner.' In this matter
Louis Napoleon acted admirably ; for violent measures he was,
in their case, powerless ; so he printed their manifestoes in
the ' Moniteur,' And on the evening of December 1 he pub-
licly assumed the crown, with the title of Napoleon III., not,
he said, as an effete dynastic pretension, an insult to reason
and to truth, but because he could not pass over the regular
though ephemeral title of Napoleon's son, which the Cham-
1882. The Bonapartes. 255
bers proclaimed in the last burst of vanquished patriotism.
Beyond contradiction, the Duke of Reichstadt, down to the
day of his death, was commonly referred to by the Bona-
partists as Napoleon II. ; and years before the Second Empire
Prince Louis had been, in the same way, spoken of as Napo-
leon III. There was thus no mistake, no accident about the
matter ; and any instructions sent into the provinces by the
Bonapartist wire-pullers would, as a thing of course, o-ive
their man the title.
Scarcely was the Emperor seated on his throne before he
announced his intended marriage. It is said that he made
up his mind as he did only after he had been coldly refused
by half the reigning houses in Europe, If there is any truth
in this, the proposals and refusals took an uncommonly short
time, or were made by and to the Prince President, not the
Emperor. During the Presidency, he had, as Mr. Jerrold
delicately puts it, ' lived conjugally with a lady who after-
' wards became Countess of Beauregard.' ' He had,' it seems,
' yearned for domestic affections.' We are no severe censor of
the private morality of men in the position of the Prince
President ; but it is impossible to see how this liaiso7i ' brings
' out t!ie chivalrous character and the sympathetic heart of the
' Prince.' His subsequent marriage to the daughter of Ma-
dame de Montijo was certainly one of the most fortunate cir-
cumstances of the Emperor's life.
We think that the story, which Mr. Bingham repeats, of
the Empress's birth and parentage is incorrect ; that it is, in
fact, one of the many spiteful stories that were circulated by
those who hated the Emperor or were jealous of her. And,
in any case, her conduct as Empress was above reproach. Of
the hundreds of personages who come under our notice in the
study of these volumes, the Empress Eugenie is the only one
on whose name there is no serious stain ; if we cannot speak
still more strongly, it is that she was too closely connected
with Louis Napoleon and Louis Napoleon's court altogether
to avoid scandal. Even she could not touch pitch without
being defiled ; and the numerous memoirs of society under
the Second Empire all describe it as rotten to the core, the
Emperor himself as the chief cause of the most debased im-
morality.
Here Ave must stop. We have already said that it is yet
too soon to write the history of the Second Empire, much of
which is veiled in mystery or clouded with passion. It would,
indeed, be easy to fill volumes of mere chronicle with the open
record of public events ; but to examine into their real mean-
256 TIic TAHid of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
ing, and, in the lifetime of most of the actors, to discuss their
origin and purport, Avould be a task of very great difficulty,
and, for an Englishman, of extreme delicacy. And so with
the wars which occupied so large a portion of the time, in spite
of the magniloquent phrase, ' The Empire means Peace,' which
heralded it. For naval, and still more for military officers, the
strategical or tactical results of these have already afforded,
and will long continue to'afFord, matter for earnest professional
study ; but to discuss the political causes and personal en-
tanglements which led to them is, as yet, impossible. We
believe, for instance, that the Italian war of 1859 sprang,
directly or indirectly, out of the Orsini conspiracy in 1858,
and the early connexion of the Emperor with the Carbonari;
but exact evidence is wanting ; even if such could be pub-
lished, it would, in the present turmoil of faction and party, be
properly looked on with suspicion and doubt. The financial
history of the period is subject to the same difficulty. Con-
cerning it, indeed, rumour has said much, and scandal a great
deal ; but proof, one way or the other, is entirely wanting,
and to weigh the rumour or the scandal in the balance of
truth is, to a Frenchman, an impossible task, to an English-
man it Avould be an invidious one. We would therefore leave
the whole, social economy and foreign policy alike, until, in the
fulness of time, a French writer may be found, who may
possess, at once, enlarged opportunities of information and the
capability of exercising a fair judgment. We may then pos-
sess something like a true history of the Second Empire.
Art. X. — The Land of the Midnight Sun. Summer and
Winter Journeys through Sweden, Norway, Lapland, and
Northern Finland. By Paul B. du Chaillu. 2 vols.
London: 1881.
Tn these bulky and beautifully illustrated volumes, which the
-^ publisher has put forth to the world in a most attractive
form, M. Paul du Chaillu, the discoverer, if not the inventor,
of the gorilla, has related his travels through the Scandi-
navian Peninsula and his experiences of Northern life. He
tells us that this series of journeys was made at different times
fi-om 1871 to 1878, embracing ' a sojourn in the country of
' nearly five years,' and we take him at his word, though he
skips about so, something after his fashion in his African
explorations, that it is very difficult to track him year by year
for that period of time. In fact, when we first glanced at
1882. Tlie Land of the Midnujht Sun. 257
these volumes, we laid them down in despair of ever beino-
able to iind our way in any satisfactory manner through the
900 and odd pages which they contain. One peculiarity it
had, an excellence beyond any work, whether of fiction or
reality, that we ever perused : each chapter seemed a begin-
ning, and yet the book seemed likely to go on for ever. It
was a colossal ' story without an end.' It was not until we
peeped at the very end, and saw that M. du Chaillu had
actually crossed the Sound and bid adieu to the ' Land of the
' Midnight Sun,' that Ave were convinced that he was not still
in Scandinavia evolving interminable chapters out of his inner
consciousness.
When we were assured that he was really gone, and that
there was nothing more to tell, we took heart again, and,
plunging manfully into this great wilderness of print, refusing
to be diverted either to the right or left by its numberless
illustrations and lengthy social, geological, ethnological, and
geographical disquisitions, at last discovered the plan and
purpose of the book. Of course with the inherent modesty
of all discoverers, in the possession of which virtue M. du
Chaillu himself is first and foremost, we advance our theory
with diffidence, and if he ventures to contradict us we shall
not follow the example set years ago by himself, when, un-
accustomed to the ferocity of the gorilla, some unhappy man,
to the cost of his countenance, doubted if there Avere any such
thing as a gorilla at all. But, AA'hatever may befall us, Ave pro-
pound our theory, and all at once the reader Avill see that
AAdiile ' the midnio;ht sun ' illumines the first volume throughout
its Avhole course, the second is almost entirely devoted to
Avinter travel. In fact Volume II. ought to have been called
* The Midnight Moon,' or ' The Aurora at Yule,' so full is it
of snow and stars and northern lights and Yule feasts, while
its elder brother, Volume I., blazes Avith sunbeams and suffo-
cating; heat and, though last not least, Avith the hum and sting
of the irrepressible mosquito.
Having thus bisected the work, let us folloAv M. du Chaillu
a little on his summer journeys, and, as Captain Cuttle ad-
vised his friends to make a note of every fact, so Ave advise
our readers Avhen they see a date in these volumes to take a
note of it, for dates are the dead reckoning Avhich will enable
them to sail merrily through this sea of knoAvledge ; otherAvise
they aa411 be lost and perhaps founder in a trackless ocean.
Chapter I. vol. i. This the reader need not read. It is poetry,
and like the American Avho, in reporting one of the lamented
Dean Stanley's lectures, threw doAvn his pencil AA'hen he quoted
VOL. CLY. NO. CCCXVII. S
258 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
poetry with the remark that poetry was never admitted into
the journal which he represented except in obituar}- notices,
we venture to say tliat, Avhatever opinion we may have of M. du
Chailhi's prose, we think nothing at all of his ])oetry, and when
we come to any of it we throw down the volume in disa;ust.
But to proceed. In the latter part of May 1871 America
saw, no doubt with feelings of despair, her i^reat traveller
and gorilla-hunter depart from her shores. Early in June
England Avas similarly afflicted, in all probability, to hear
that he had slipped through the fingers of the lion-huntino-
world, and had embarked for ' Goteborg,' which Englislv
men, though not, it appears^ Americans, call Gothenburo;.
There he arrived on the 12th of that month, and was re-
ceived in ' a quiet and unpretending w^ay ' by the members
of a leading firm, so that M. du Chaillu Avas struck by their
amiability and refinement, while ' the softness of their pro-
' nunciation modified the excellent English they spoke.'
We pass over the other excellences of this amiable firm, who
were a kind of Swedish Cheeryble Brothers, and follow our
traveller into the * cars ' of the Stockholm and Goteborg Rail-
way, ' built,' it appears, by the Government, where the train will
stop for a moment while we observe the peculiarly English use
of ' car ' and ' build,' the latter word being used by our author
for all kinds of construction, from a line of railway to the
laying of a fire.
But noAv Ave really must be off, for Ave have fsir to go. At
6 A.]M. on tlie morning of the 13th Mi du Chaillu started for
Stockholm, at Avhich capital he arriA^ed at 6 p.im. On the Avay,
in tAventy minutes, true American time, he did ample justice
to a most excellent dinner, at Avhich he noticed particularly
the moderation of the people; 'the portion of food eacli
' one took Avas not in excess of that Avhich Avould have been
* served at a private table.' The meal, including bottled beer,
cost about 1.9. 8f/., Avhich makes one Avish that Ave could dine
anyAvhere in these isles at the same rate ; hut then Sweden is
a;nd always has been the cheapest country in the AA^orld to
dAvell in. As soon as our traveller had taken up his abode in
Stockholm at the Hotel liydbcrg on the Gustaf Adolfs
Square, overlooking the lloyal Palace and the SAvift Miliar,
that delightful combination of lake and river, rushino- under
the Nordbro or North Bridge, he began to look about him,
and the result is a statistical chapter on that charming city
and its population, Avhich, Avith the leave of our readers, Ave
Avill take as read. All tliat avc say is that it is very like some
leaves out of INIr. Murray's invaluable series of Handbooks.
1882. The Land of the Midnight Sun. 259
Of course M. du Chaillu wished to see the King, Charles XV.
What American, and, for that matter, what Enghshman, does
not share that wish? On enquiry he found it was no easy-
task ; the Queen Consort had lately died, the King himself
was *just recovering from a serious illness,' and, besides, 'was
' not living at that time in Stockholm.' ' Nevertheless,' says
M. du Chaillu, ' I made a formal application for an audience,'
and the very next day he was informed that the King would
receive him in a private audience at the palace. He was
surprised at this, and so are we, for putting aside the Queen's
death and the King's illness, how were time and space at once
annihilated and the King brought back to Stockholm in the
twinkling of an eye, when we had just been told that he was
not living there at all ? However, there the King was, and
M. du Chaillu saw that genial, but strangely self-willed
monarch, avIio would have been Charles XII. had he lived a
century and a half sooner, who was ever burning to do great
things, and yet never did them, who wore himself down by
extravagances and wild freaks, and who yet died the darling
of his people. So pleased w^as the King with our traveller,
though astonished that such a traveller did not smoke, that he
asked him the next day to visit him at Ulriksdal — not tlte
Ulriksdal, as M. du Chaillu persists in calling it — a palace
delightfully situated on one of the many arms of the Malar,
about two hours' sail from the capital. There the King again
fascinated the traveller by Avhat he calls ' the magnetism of
' his bearing.' He was ' a child of nature,' and, we might add,
' a child of freedom,' and thought the next best thing to seeing
a gorilla was to see the man who had seen and killed that
other child of nature in African forests. So after a pleasant
day the King and the traveller parted, and M. du Chaillu wails
over his death in another piece of poetry, at the end of which
he adroitly brings in some praise for Oscar II., now King of
Sweden, to whom he heartily wishes long life and prosperity,
and • as great popularity as was enjoyed by his father, Oscar L,
* and by his brother Charles XV.' Let us add, not from M.
du Chaillu, what their own mother said of her two sons :
* My eldest son was self--willed and did everything to alienate
' the affections of his people, yet was so genial that he died
* universally beloved. My second son has done everything to
* win the affections of his people, but he has not succeeded in
* gaining them.' From what cause ? Is it from a want of that
* magnetic bearing' which so distinguished Charles XV., or is it
that the Swedish people are so dull as not to know when they
have been blessed Avith a really good king ?
260 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
But it was not to adore kin^s or princes that M. du
Chaillu visited Scandinavia. He is, if Ave may jvidge from the
title of his book, a modern fire-worshipper, and he was deter-
mined to prostrate himself before that great luminary at mid-
night, and so accomplish a feat which no Persian or Parsee
had ever dreamt of doing. For this purpose he embarked in
a steamer for Haparanda at the top of the Gulf of Bothnia,
a town Avhich the readers of our weather forecasts know well,
and at the mere sight of which in a geographical paper of
questions unhappy army candidates shiver and shake even in
the month of June. At the end of that month M. du Chaillu
reached Haparanda, though, Avith that innate modesty AA^hicli
refuses to let the vulgar pry into his private dcA'otions, he
does not tell us Avhether he did succeed in Avorshipping the sun
at midnight on midsummer night in 1871. Perhaps he did,
perhaps he did not : Avho can tell ? On his arrival at
Haparanda he found himself famous, and pei'haps this incense
of notoriety diverted him from his purpose. ' The ncAA'S
' of my arrival,' he says, ' soon spread over the toAvn. The
* judge, clergyman, custom-house officers, schoolmaster, post-
' master, banker, and others came to the hotel to see me, and
' they all Avelcomed me to Haparanda.' From Avhich Ave may
infer that business Avas as completely suspended on that festive
day at Haparanda as it was on the plains of Shinar Avhen
Nebuchadnezzar set up his golden image for the adoration of
all nations and languages. No doubt those innocent Hapa-
randers thought that the object of the great gorilla-hunter
and abolisher of the slave trade in Equatorial Africa Avas to
lecture them on the blessings of freedom and the ferocity of
the great Quadrumana, and that he meant to stay many
happy days Avith them. They Avere ' astonished,' therefore,
AA'hen he informed them that he Avas only passing through their
interesting toAvn, and that his desire Avas ' to cross to the
'Polar Sea.' M. du Chaillu does not tell us so, but it is clear
betAveen the lines of his narrative that all tliose trades and pro-
fessions thought him mad or a fool for wishing to leave them for
the Polar Sea. But they were polite, and only raised ' diffi-
' culties.' ' There are no roads and no people, and Avliere there
' are any they Avill not understand you. You Avill be starved,'
Avhich remark was very natural, for Avhere there is no food
there can be no people. Even a cannibal Fan must starve AA'here
he could not find a fellow-man to eat. But M. du Chailhi
Avas resolute. He Avould go on ; he would not stay among these
lotus-eaters of the North. He put doAvn his foot at once.
* The food,' he said, ' does not trouble me in the least. I can
1882. The Laud of the Midnight Sun. 261
' eat anything-,' including, of course, worms. So they let him
go to his diet, and sent him off with an excellent guide, a tall
Finlander, one Andreas Jacob Josefsson, Avho had lived in
California for a while, and therefore might have been as guile-
ful as that ' Heathen Chinee,' but Avho really was a thoroughly
honest fellow. Here we skip some very useful information
as to travelling in Sweden, Avhich we purposely omit, lest any
of our male readers should be tempted by the cheapness of
those postal arrangements to leave their wives and families
this winter, and, falling into the arms of some Finnish or
Lapp Dalilah, never, alas ! return to the domestic hearth.
And now they started, ' the judge, the custom-house officers,
' the banker,' and no doubt the clergyman, drinking Du
Chaillu's health, and, as we are privately informed, pointing, as
soon as he Avas out of sight, Avith the finger of scorn in the
direction of the nearest lunatic asylum. Then they all re-
turned to their business, and order once more ruled in
Haparanda.
Under the guidance of the excellent Josefsson, Du Chaillu
proceeded in a kdrra, or open cart without springs, in which
the bones even of a gorilla would have been dislocated unless
he had wit enough to provide himself with a spring seat. So
they went on northwards from post-house to post-house, some-
times severely tormented by fleas in beds, and sometimes stung
almost to death by gnats and midges out of doors, and now,
well within the Arctic circle, had ample opportunity for
adoring the midnight sun. In this way of travelling a driver
is necessary to take back the car and horse at the end of each
stage, and often in Scandinavia this driver is a ' driveress,'
sometimes an old woman, and sometimes a little girl. Now,
all through this book, besides the worship of the sun, the
worship of another luminary, Avhich may be called the sun of
the domestic system, is most apparent. M. du Chaillu has a
keen eye for female beauty, and it is wonderful how he dis-
covers pretty girls at every turn. Their light hair, deep blue
eyes, rosy complexions, and pearly skins constantly make deep
impressions on his heart, and we are convinced, had he de-
voted himself entirely to society, he would have been a lady-
instead of a gorilla-killer. Sometimes, however, this mutual
magnetic attraction, for it was ahvays reciprocated, nearly en-
tailed awkward consequences. Thus, when, at the very outset
of his transit to the Polar Sea, he asked the fair Kristina
of Sattajarvi, about sixteen years of age, ' who seemed to be
* attracted ' to him, * often holding my hand, and entering into
* animated conversation ' — we wonder in what language except
262 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
that of love — * Would you like to be my driver, and come
Avith me to America ? ' * Yes/ said the girl, and, what was
still worse, ' Yes,' said her mother, her father, her brothers,
her cousins, and her aunts. Before you could say ' Jack
* Robinson ' in Finnish, Kristina had packed up her clothes in
a modest parcel, and was ready to follow Du Chaillu to the
ends of the earth. * Good-bye, Kristina ! Write to us,'
cried the crowd of relations. Here, however, the honest
Josefsson, the Leporello of this new Don Juan, interfered.
* Are you goinii- to take that girl to America ? The road is
too hard for her.' ' Certainly not ; she is to drive us to
Pajala,' the next stage. ' No,' said he, ' they expect you to
' take her with you to America.' Then of coui'se came a scene.
Kristina cried, and her mother cried and abused Josefsson.
As for Du Chaillu, she said in a withering way, ' Man ! are you
going to listen to your guide ? I am sorry for you, that
had no will of your own. I pity you.' As for the father and
brothers, they swore as terribly as * our army ever did in
' Flanders,' and under that volley of execration the travellers
escaped. M. du Chaillu tells us that the people called out to
him to ' come back,' which Ave can Avell believe, though not in
the sense in AA'hich he means it. Had he been in Greece, or
in ' Ould Ireland,' the fathers and brothers Avould have pro-
duced all the cutlery or pistols of their race, and compelled
him to marry Kristina, or, Avorse still, her epileptic sister, as
happened in the case of M. About's friend, the Frenchman.
After this inflammatory episode Ave are glad to find our
traveller moralising, in a churchyard at Pajala, over the body
of La3Stadius, the Lapp missionary, Avho, years and years ago,
did so much good Avork, and Avhose most interesting travels
lie before us, together with those of Frjis, the Christiania
professor, Avho has more knowledge of the Lapps and their Avays
m his little finger than any other man in the Avorld in his
Avhole body. We read both of these to gain information as to
the Lapps, of Avhom M. du Chaillu tells us \'ery little. At
Pajala the perils of the hurra and its attendant young
Avomen Avere removed, for Du Chaillu and his companion now
ascended the Muonio liiver by boat for neai'ly three hundred
miles. It must have been hard Avork though, for avc are
told that 'the rush of Avater Avas very fierce, the angry
' billows filling the forest with their roar ' — where Ave are
tempted again to throw down our pen and call out ' poetry.'
It Avas on the last day of June that he stepped into the boat,
after having had an encounter Avith another lovely maiden, Avho
babbled to him in her native tongue, Avhich he could not
1882. Tlie Land of the Midnigltt Sun. 263
understand except by intuition, about ' the midnight sun,'
and then Avas eclipsed and lost to his sight. Fearing tlie
consequences, we are glad to get him out of the reach of
these sympathetic maidens, and safely launched in his boat,
where he stays sorely stung by mosquitoes till he comes to a
place called Aitijarvi, which is on the watershed of those
wild parts, for after it the waters flow south towards the
Alten and the Polar Sea. Fortunately at this farm or refuge
there were no maidens. It was kept by the old Adam, whom
we believe to be the original man of Lapland, and Kristina,
bis wife, who had lived there twenty-six years. They had
twelve children, but the girls had all died or been married,
so there was no temptation. Kristina was laconic, but
practical : she cooked fish, and poured out milk. ' Stranger,
' eat,' she said : ' eat as much as you can. You have a long
'journey before you.' For which good advice, including the
food, Du Chaillu slipped two dollars, about two shillings, into
her hand at parting.
Then they made their way by boat and portages to a place
called Autzi, where there was a police magistrate and a gaol,
at the sight of whom and of the lock-up they blessed them-
selves, for they knew they were now returning to civilisation.
Shortly afterwards they struck the Alten, and at Kaukoteino
on July 7, Da Chaillu sent the trusty Josefsson back, no
doubt slipping many dollars into his hand for his services.
Down the Alten our hero Avent Avith two Lapp boatmen,
suffering much from want of sleep, haA'ing had only seven hours
of that ' sweet balm' between 9 a.m. on Wednesday and 4 p.m.
on Saturday, Avhich is about the alloAvance that fashionable
young men and Avomen take in three nights during the
height of the London season. At last they came, roAving
and walking, to Bosekop, at the head of the Alten Fjord, and
then Du Chaillu discovered to his dismay that he had lost his
satchel, or bag, or Avallet, or scrip, AAdiich contained, as far as
AA^e can make out, not only all his money, but all his Avearing
apparel. But Avhat of that ? Was he not again in the region
of young women, Avho presently came to his rescue ? While
passing a farmhouse he Avas gesticulating to his Lapps in the
vain attempt to make them understand his loss, AAdien out came
three young ladies. ' My father Avill send a man on horse-
' back to fetch your satchel,' said one of them in very good
English. Covered Avith mud, he tried to excuse himself from
entering the house. ' JSTever mind, come in,' AA^as the instant
reply ; so he entered and found that the OAvner of the house
Avas a member of the Storthing, or NorAvegian Parliament,
264 Tlie Land of the Miduhjld San. Jan,
and that Bosekop thought quite as much of itself as Ilapa-
randa, and was the centre of civilisation for West Finmark.
Here Du Chaillu was fortunate enougli to meet the great
Norwegian geologist, Professor Kjerulf, or ' Wolf of the Wold,'
who 'was somewhat astonished at the " paucity" of his luggage,
' which consisted, he said, mostly of writing-paper and maps.'
Du Chaillu's thin shoes also surprised him ; but here we quite
a2:ree with our traveller, for of all curses in forced marches
on foot none are greater than heavy lumbering shoes.
AVe need not say that Du Chaillu was soon entirely master of
the position ; ' dozens of blooming girls ' and a few elderly
ladies and gentlemen gathered round him, and vied in showing
him every attention, and at last, having played till he Avas tired
at forfeits and blindman's buff with the girls, and drunk eo-o-nofc
and other temperance beverages with the elders, he felt bound
' to give an entertainment to the young ladies in the parlour
' of the hotel.' But here truth compels us to add that he
had reckoned without his hosts — that is, without the heads of
families. Suddenly there was a pause, the guests looked at
one another, and whispered, and some of the ladies, elderly of
course, headed by the crafty Professor Kjerulf, came up and
asked in the name of the company that our traveller would
tell them something ' about my travels in Africa and the
' gorillas.' * I felt sorry to have been recognised ; I had never
' uttered a Avord about my explorations. This is one of
' the disadvantages of bearing an unusual name.' It was,
however, impossible to refuse. No more forfeits or blind-
man's buff; it was now serious business, and our traveller in
their stead delivered a lecture on Equatorial Africa and the
gorilla before that select assembly, no doubt Avitli as much
satisfaction as when poor dear Sir Roderick explained the
Silurian system on a wet Sunday to the fashionable society
gathered in a great country house. But such is fame, and
who can escape its consequences and its disappointments?
Unfortunately, however, M. du Chaillu did not have all
Bosekop to himself. There w^re lions there besides gorillas.
' Even here,' he exclaims, ' Englishmen had come to fish.*
This lion was the Duke of Roxburgh, whom our traveller
pities for ' leaving his estates every year to enjoy the pleasure
' of sleeping in a log house, catching salmon, and being eaten
* up by mosquitos ; ' but he is good enough to add ' that the
people spoke of him with respect and love, and praised his
kind heart and genial manners. ' I know,' he kindly adds, ' of
* no other Englishman more esteemed in Norway,' though
this does not go for much, for Ave do not observe throughout
1882. The Land of the Midnight Sun. 265
these volumes that he is particularly willino; to praise our
countrymen, as we shall see when we come toDrontheim.
Down the Alten Fjord M. du Chaillu next sailed in a
steamer for the fishy town of Hammerfest, that little Bero-en
which, our traveller tells us, is said to be the most northern
town in the world. Here he was in his glory. ' There wa&
' an American vice-consul resident at the port.' ' Immedi-
' ately after my visit to him the stars and stripes were hoisted
* over his residence, and I found to my astonishment ' — (oh !
M. du Chaillu!) — 'that my name was known in this remote
' part of the world.' His ' Equatorial Africa ' had been trans-
lated into Norwegian, and, as a proof that his name was known,
a copy was shown to him, as also ' the original in Eno-lish.^
But does it follow if a book is translated that it will be read?
You may bring a horse to the water, but who can make him
drink ? However, let us not dash M. du Chaillu's self-satis-
faction by any such carping. No doubt this book is read, and
it may be believed, in Norway just as it is in England and
in every part of the lion-hunting Avorld. Fame, however, was
not enough for him ; an irresistible impulse drove him on to
adore the midnight sun from the top of the North Cape, on an
islet oiF the Island of Magero, which, we believe, means the
Isle of Gulls, and to the Isle of Gulls our traveller accord-
ingly steamed, and most appropriately landed at its capital,
which rejoices in the name of Gjoesver, or Goosenest (where
we stop to remark that in this part of the narrative the names
of places are thoroughly Rabelaisian). This was on July 21,
and there he saw five cows, which were fed twice a day on fish.
Yes ! there were five cows and as many goats and sheep
flocking round a tub and devouring boiled and raw fish ' in a
' most voracious manner.' Need we add that the butter made
from their milk is salt, and that it is largely exported because,
being a genuine article, it will keep salt for ever ? It is very
odd, but though he only sailed from Hammerfest on July 21,
it was on the 20th of that month that he ascended the North
Cape. This is a confusion of dates which reminds us of an
old book of travels in which there were two Junes in one
year; but that at the time was called a trifle, and so we sup-
pose is this inaccuracy. Partly by boat and partly on hi&
feet Du Chaillu at last, after trudging several miles, stood
upon the extreme point of the North Cape, 980 feet above
the sea-level. Here follows more poetry, which it took our
traveller ten hours to compose while he was waiting on the
top of that awful headland for the midnight sun. It was at
one of those sad intervals, when even Homer nods, that with.
266 Tlie Land of the MidniijJit San. Jan.
a spasmodic effort Du Chaillii 2:i'aspcd his mineralogist's
hammer, went to the extreme edge of the Cape, thrcAv himself
on his face, and Avhile one of his guides, who had ascended
with him to that holy mount, held him by the legs, actually
succeeded in breaking off a fragment of the solid mica-schist
rock, ' to be pi-eserved,' as he solemnly says, ' to be a memento
' of my journey.' Part, we are glad to learn, of this precious
relic, the reward of so much, audacity, rests Avith M. du
Chaillu's other treasures at New York, it may be in Barnum's
]\iuseum ; the other part Avas presented to Professor Kjerulf,
and is deposited in the Museum at Christiania.
After this feat our traveller walked a while and saAv a
spider, a humble-bee, and a small bird. All these he might
have caught and killed, but he spai-ed the spider, no doubt
because it reminded him of Kobert Bruce and his perseverance ;
the humble-bee was also granted its life, probably because it
is Charles Darwin's pet ; but as for the little bird, he brought
his gun to his shoulder intending to shoot it and carry it, too,
off as a memento of the North Cape, but as it flitted about,
evidently not at home, he said to himself, ' I will not kill thee,
' for thou, like me, art a wanderer in these fiir-off northern
' climes,' whei'eas we venture to assert, on the authority of that
little bird itself, not only that it Avas at home, but that its mate
Avas not far off. HoAve\'er that may be, it escaped, and is not now
in the Museum. But now the Aveird hour approached. LoAver
and lower sank the sun as the hour of midnight approached, and
our traveller Avas distracted Avith the thought that, after all,
clouds might arise and obscure it. But the midnight sun Avas
faithful to his votary ; at midnight it shone beautifully over
that lonely sea and dreary land. ' As it disappeared behind
* the clouds, I exclaimed from the A^ery brink of the precipice,
' " FarcAvell to thee, midnight sun I '" But Ave must extract
some lines of M. du Chaillu's poetry : —
* I liad now seen the midniglit sun from mountain tops and Aveird
plateai^x shining over a barren, desolate, and snow-clad country ; I had
Avutched it Avhen ascending or descending picturesque rivers or crossing
lonely lakes ; I liad beheld many a land^^cape — luxuriant fields, verdant
meadows, grand old forests — dyed by its drowsy light. I had fol-
loAved it from the Gulf of Bothnia to the Polar Sea as a boy would
chase a Avill-o'-the-wisp, and I could go no further.'
If the reader does not like this bit of tall Avriting, Ave can-
not help it ; Ave think it very fine, and have therefore, if he
will pardon the expression, given it to him ' in its entirety.'
What remains to be said but that our traveller returned to
Goosenest Avet and chilly, after twenty-tAvo hours' sleepless-
1882. The Land of the Midnifjht Sun. 267
ness, still hearing the ' sad murmur of the waves beating upon
* the lonely North Cape ' ? As the reader already knows, we
much prefer M. du Chaillu's prose to his poetry ; but the ques-
tion remains Avhether it was worth while to Avaste so much
prose in describing a journey from the Gulf of Bothnia to
the North Cape along a route traversed by many tourists every
year.
M. du Chaillu's second summer flight begins thus : — ' In
' the latter part of July ' — we conclude the July of 1871 — ' I
' found myself sailing along the wild and superb coast south
' of Tromso,' where the reader must look to the excellent
map which the publisher has provided, and then they will see
not only Tromso, but Bodo, a spot at the mouth of the Salt
Fjord, considerably below the Lofoden Islands, but still within
the Arctic Circle. Not content with his exploits on the Alten
and at the North Cape, M. du Chaillu was now bent on re-
crossing the Scandinavian Peninsula lower down, from Bodo
on the North Sea to LuleS on the Gulf of Bothnia, thus tra-
versing one of ' the wildest and most uninhabitable districts of
' Swed'en and Norway,' and skirting in his way the grand glacier
of Sulitelma, the Swedish Ben Nevis, which is between six
and seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. Our tra-
veller tells us that he Avas the first to attempt this journey,
' Avith the exception ' — and it is a very great one — of a com-
mission of Swedish and Norwegian officials who settled the
boundaries between the tAvo countries. All Ave can say at the
outset is that besides the commission others than M. du
Chaillu have crossed by this route, and that the glaciers of
Sulitelma, of which Ave shall see that he says very little, Avere
not reserved for him as virgin snoAV and ice. HoAvever, to
please him, Ave Avill let him have his Avay, and for this once
he first of men, except a royal commission, shall have tra-
velled betAveen Sulitelma, Qvickjock, and LuleS. His Avay
lay up the Saltdal to a place called Fagerli, at tlie top of ^ the
A^alley beloAV the Fjeld, and Avas only enlivened by the sight
of a family at dinner, Avhere the father Avas sharing out a large
piece of raAV salt fish, Avhich they all ate Avith a relish. When
asked Avhy the fish had not been cooked, the head of the
family ansAvered ' that then they Avould eat too much of it.'
It Avas noAv August 3, and Ave feel relieved Avhen Ave are
told that for that year at least we shall hear no more of that
midnight sun Avhich has got at last to be monotonous and a
bore. While he stayed a ie\Y days at Fagerli till the Lapps
Avho were to guide him came, Du Chaillu observed the country
and the character of the inhabitants. The last, he tells us, are
268 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
very primitive, but. this trait did not prevent the children from
running after him, shoutiiii^ out ' penc/ar,^ pence or money,-
just as our dear, unsophisticated little TafFys shout out
* halfpenny ' and ' waterfall ' to the enchanted tourist who
visits their most uncommonly cleanly and unmercenary
country. Grown-up girls, too, Avith the consent of their primi-
tive mothers, kissed our traveller with or Avithout provocation.
* I may add,' says our Lothario, ' that I Avas quite Avilling.'
But life, even in Norway, is not all kissing and coppers. On
August 9 two Lajjlanders and a Lapp Avoman arrived,
and on the 10th the four started for Sulitelma and Qvick-
jock. * The less a man carries on such a journey the better,'
says Du Chaillu. ' My baggage consisted only of an extra
' flannel shirt, pair of pantaloons and shoes, and a light over-
' coat. My provisions Avere hard flat bread ' (literal English
for ftadbrod), 'butter and cheese, a flask of brandy to be
* used only in case of need, a strong coffee-kettle, a pound of
' roasted and ground coffee, and some tea.' Besides, he had a
gun and tAVO revolvers for ' difficulties,' of Avhich he Avas quite
ashamed, and resolved to get rid of them at the first oppor-
tunity. Altogether an equipment of Avhich General Sir Charles
Napier Avould have approved, as it Avas quite in keeping Avith
his instructions to his officers campaigning in Scinde ; but for
our OAvn part Ave should have liked to have tAvo or three pairs
of socks and a pocket-handkerchief or two, though Ave knoAv
that the last article is looked on Avitli contempt by real hard
traA^ellers, Avho never have colds, and, if they sneeze at all, only
do so once in their lives, like the patriarchs before the Flood,
and then die, after the fashion of Baron Munchausen's bear,
' Avith a terrible explosion.'
After a fcAv hours' trudging they got Avell up on to the
Fjeld, and were in the midst of very Avild scenery, Avith Suli-
telma, 6,326 feet high, in the distance, a lake at its foot,
and its great glacier streaming down its sides. They Avere
Avet and cold, and anything but in a condition to enjoy the
vieAv. Avhen the Lapp Avoman, who Avas as ' wiry ' as any of
them, called out ' Same^ Lapps,' and lo ! there was an encamp-
ment (^katd) in the distance, in this very country which at the
outset Ave Avere told Avas ' uninhabitable.' It noAV came out
that these Avere some relations of their Lapp woman, but Du
Chaillu, disgusted, as no doubt he Avas, to find them in his
Avay, Avas still more so when he saw them all huddled, men,
women, children, and dogs, into a tent eight feet in diameter,
evidently uuAvashed, and continually, as he delicately puts it,
* putting their hands through the openings in their garments
1882. The Land of the Midahjht Sun. 269
* near the neck,' or, in other words, ' God-blessing the Duke
* of Argyll ' at a fearful rate. But these Lapps were very kind ;
they did their best to entertain them with meat and drink, and
even wanted them to sleep in their tent. This, though he
knew the penalty, unwilling to hurt their feelings, though at
the expense of his own, Du Chaillu did for one hour, and then
rose at four A.j>r., while creeping things crawled over him till
he was aAvakened by a Lapp Avho had come home in the night
M'ith a herd of 250 reindeer.
That was the first day, and the second was like unto it
— constant walking and Avading, more Lapp katas, and that
everlasting Sulitelma for ever looking down on them. But
these Lapps were of a better sort ; they were either aristocrats
of the Fjeld, or the day before had been their half-yearly
washing day. There they were, three young women and one
man, just the i^roportion between the sexes to please a gay
old gorilla-hunter. Our traveller, beholding their faces washed
and their hair combed, was surprised, on further inspection, at
the good looks of two of the girls. ' They had blue eyes,
* very small hands, and fair hair, of a somewhat reddish hue ;
* their complexions were rosy, and their skin remarkably white
* where it had been protected from the Avind.' As for the man
or men, they were as red as Red Indians, ' having been tanned
' by exposure.' There Avas no sort of shyness in those people,
and when Du Chaillu wanted a spoon Avashed he Avas much
' amused ' at the Avay in Avhich one of the girls did it= ' As
* there Avas no Avater at hand, she passed her little red tongue
* over it several times till it Avas quite clean and smooth, and
' then, as if it had been a matter of course, filled it Avith milk
* from a boAA'l, stirred up the coffee, and handed me the cup.'
' I did not,' he says, ' altogether admire this Avay of cleaning
* spoons. Happily her teeth Avere exquisitely Avhite, and her
' lips as red as a cherry.' We knoAV the colour of her tongue
already, and Ave are sure that M. du Chaillu, with his keen
eye for female beauty, is quite truthful Avhen he says, ' Though
' I have seen many Laplanders since, I think she Avas the
* prettiest one I ever saAv.' So it is, and so it AA'ill be : first love
is first love, even in an uninhabited AAdlderness. We have no
time to linger in the tents of these four Turanians ; the reader
must discover for himself hoAV they milk their reindeer and
make more cheese than butter. We must hasten on. On the
third day they plodded on in Avet and cold, now the victims of
mosquitos, Avhich up to that time had sj^ared them. This day,
however, Sulitelma showed its peak for fifteen minutes, and M.
du Chaillu AA-as comforted. On the fourth day, as far as Ave
270 The Land of the Midniglit Sun. Jan.
can make out, they caught sight of Qvickjock in the distance,
and on the fifth day they reached that famous i)lace, and were
again in the midst of civiHsation, having tramped about sixty
miles from Sulitelma. The perils of this terrible journey
of five days being over, it is all plain sailing or rowing down
the string of lakes which form the LuleS river. At that
still more famous to^^m Du Chaillu arrived on August 20, was
at once presented to the governor, and instantly invited two
young ladies and an old one to go out Avith him atid see the
lions." Of course they willingly accepted the invitation, only
remarking that they knew ' in America gentlemen invite
' young ladies to drive,' though we always thought it was the
other way, and that in that great country young ladies invited
gentlemen to drive.
That was the end of his second summer tour, and now come
several hasty statistical chapters on the climate and products
of the northern provinces of Sweden ; but when we get as far
down as Jemtland — dear reader, do look at a good map of
Sweden — our intrepid traveller rushes back towards IS^orway
by Ostersund on the Storsjon, and crossing the frontier dashes
down on Trondhjera, which we stupid English will call Di*ont-
heim, and so finds himself in the old capital of the country. If
we might hazard the remark, M. du Chaillu is like those ancient
freemen who loved more to hear the lark sing than the mouse
squeak. If he stays in a city, it is only to call on a king or a
governor, or to have his shoes mended, or for some vulgar pur-
pose. Drontheim he seems to loathe particularly. In summer
the town is filled with tourists, principally English. As they
are in the habit of putting on airs of superiority, the inhabitants
do not seem to care for foreigners who — of course the English
— have demoralised the lower classes, who have learned to be
exorbitant. For instance, one day M. du Chaillu crossed tlie
river Nid by the ferry with two Englishmen, and the partv
were charged the enormous sum of two marks. M. du Chaillu
thereupon refused to pay anything at all, but the Englishmen
yielded and paid. ' There is a regular tariff of only a few
' cents,' he adds, ' and the fellow would have been heavily fined
* had I made a complaint,' though we do not see how he could
have complained, seeing he was ferried over for nothing. Our
countrymen were wise men : they paid rather than take pro-
ceedings which would have detained them in Drontheim
several days while they waited the result of the enquiry and
the proverbial delays of the law.
It was now September, Ave take it of 1871, though we are
not sure, for this part of the book is rather hazy, as the weather
1882. The Land of the Midnif/ht Sun. 271
is apt to be iu Norway in that month. M. du Chaillu was
waiting for fine weather at one of the post stations on the post
road between Drontheim and Christiania, when, looking out
of the window, he saw a young lady alight from a carriole and
ask for a horse. She lived on the banks of the Mjosen Lake,
and was hastening home to one of her friends, who was ill.
Her boldness made our traveller ashamed of himself, and
he enquired within ' what had become of the blood that once
' made me encounter dangers ?' He offered at once to accom-
pany that young lady, and her answer was, as the young ladies
ahvays answer our traveller, ' I am very glad ; it will be
' much more pleasant for me, for I am all alone.' Now, if
any Aunt Tabitha or Mrs. Trimmer should screech out
against the impropriety of accompanying a young lady in a
carriage for two hundred miles or so, we declare that of all
carriages in the world a carriole is the last in which aiiy man
would attempt to make love. Love, like a quarrel, takes two
to make it, and as a carriole can only contain one person, and
perhaps a boy or girl hanging on behind, love-making is out
of the question. If Ursula and feer eleven thousand virgins
had set off on a tour round the world in as many carrioles,
she would have brought all her pet lambs safe home, if they
had only driven on steadily, and never once got out to go to
bed. Moreover, as this young lady was going post haste
day and night, there could be no impropriety in M. du Chaillu's
escorting her ; and we are still more convinced of this by the
fact that we never hear of her on the journey after her fellow-
tx'aveller lent her his coat, so that we are left in doubt
whether she ever reached the shores of Lake Mjosen, while
we hear of him at Molde and Bergen, quite out of the way to
the Mjosen, of both of which cities or towns we again advise
the reader to consult M. du Chaillu's valuable statistical
details for himself. Nor should he omit the geological, glacial,
and ethnological and other chapters which, for the most part,
make up the rest of this summer volume, which is like the Pars
JEstivalis of the Roman Breviary, and deals only with that
portion of the year. Of the Pars Hyemalis or winter history,
which fills this second volume, we have still to speak.
It was in December, 1872, as we gather, that M. du Chaillu
began his winter experiences in the North. He was then
slowly steaming for Christiania, bent on paying a visit to
some ' bonder ' (farmer) friends in Gudbrandsdal before making
his way via Stockholm to Haparanda, that he might see Lap-
land in winter, and enjoy the delights of sledging with rein-
deer. Chi'istmas Day was spent at the Norwegian capital
272 The Land of the Mldnujht Sun. Jan.
with his friend, Consul H., whose little tl.iiincliter Kristine
had worked her friend ' Paul ' a pair of slippers, and sent
them all the way to New York, Avhence, as we also gather,
he had just returned. There were Christmas trees and Christ-
mas gifts for youno- and old, but IM. du Chaillu iswrono; Avhen
he calls ' Claus ' or Nicholas, the Avell-known saint, ' Santa; '
for the patron saint of thieves was a man, if ever a saint Avas.
But we hasten on with our traveller to Gudbrandsdal,
for which he started on December 26 in that most un-
comfortable of all vehicles, a carriole. After three days he
reached the Dovrefjeld, and in due time Tofte, a farm well
known in Norwegian history, and now the abode of Du
Chaillu's friend Thord, who claims to be the lineal descendant
of Harold Fairhalr, on whom our traveller dilates with more or
less accuracy, as when he tells us that one of Harold's many
wives was ' Snefrid Snow-peace,' where the last syllable has
nothing to do with peace, but means ' fair ' in the sense of
beautiful, as in the old alliterative English bahad phrase,
' fair and free.' These, however, are small matters, like putting
St. Canute's Day on the twentieth daj- after Christmas,
whereas it falls on January 7, or the thirteenth day after
Christmas.
As for Du Chailhi's friend Thord, he lived in a very
patriarchal way at Tofte, with seven maids and five men.
We need hardly say that these maids were very independent ;
they all had light blue eyes and fair hair, and three were
really beautiful, though it was rather puzzling that four out
of the seven rejoiced in the name of Ragnhild. The girls
sang and played blindman's buff with Du Chaillu, or plain
' Paul ' as they called him, and ' many of the maidens had to
' redeem their forfeits by kissing me.' Some were bashful and
objected at first, but ' they had to do it.' So our traveller Avent
up and down the dale, from farm to farm, welcomed ever}--
where, drinking the foaming ale from liorns of fabulous age.
All good things and times have an end, however, and at the
very end, on the thirteenth day of Yule, Du Chaillu was
surprised in a farmhouse by a crowd of maskers, the female
part of which was instantly attracted to him as flies to honey.
* Paul, I love you,' said one fair mask. ' Take me with you
* to America when you go back,' cned another. ' Paul,'
■cried a third, ' I want to marry you ; say yes or no without
' seeing my face.' Then one of the young ladies took Paul
by the arm and hurried him off on a round of dancing and
sinfjinfic from house to house, like Herodias and her ' Mcnve '
in the IMiddle xVges. At last the girls and their brothers un-
1882, The Land of the Midnight Sun. 273
masked themselves, and said, ' Paul, come to our farm and
' sleep.' ' 1 accepted the invitation,' says Da Chaillu, ' and
' was warmly welcomed. We were all weary, and a crowd
' slept in the same room, the best way we could, in the old-
' fashioned style still practised in Wales, and among the Dutch
' of Long Island and New Jersey some thirty years ago, or
' in Pennsylvania and at Cape Cod, and in many primitive
* parts of Europe to this day.' Yes, very primitive, and the
name they give to this custom in Wales is ' bundling.'
This warm Christmas required to be cooled in snow,
and though there was little that year in the south of Scan-
dinavia, our traveller found more than enough of it on his
journey from Stockholm and Upsala to Haparanda. Nature
is good to all of us, but to M. du Chaillu her bounties are
excessive. Her manifestations to him are always superlative.
If the wind howls to him, no mortal ever heard it howl so
loud ; if the sea roars, not all the sea-lions in the world,
roaring at once, could roar so terribly ; and this very snow, it
vras ' the grandest and most continuous snoAvstorm that had
' fallen in Sweden for a hundred years.' In fact, the old
woman who plucks geese up aloft had kept all her feathers
back for a century, and then discharged them on his devoted
head. It was comforting by the way to fall in with a jovial
company of Swedes, one of whom propounded this thesis :
' Have you ever heard of any great man, either as a master
' intellect, a great writer, or a great soldier, Avho has drunk
' only water all his life ? ' In such weather Du Chaillu forgot
Gough and Matthew and a host of teetotal witnesses, and,
instead of renewing the pledge, accepted the bottle proffered
by these jolly companions.
At last, seeing by the way one or two beautiful maidens,
Du Chaillu reached Haparanda on February 17, 1873, having
been five weeks in compassing the 740 miles from Stockholm.
Now it is provoking that he does not say one word of his old
friends the banker, the custom-house officers, the sheriff, the
clergyman, and the rest of the Haparanders. Perhaps they go
to sleep in the winter like their own bears, perhaps our tra-
veller was so anxious to get still more frozen that he could not
stop. All he says is that he left Haparanda in a storm so
severe that the hoi'se could scarcely ' proceed.' Still they
plodded on, one of his drivers being ' a stout girl of twenty,
' strong enough to wrestle any man, but shy, modest, and
' gentle. I could not tell how she looked, for her face, like
' mine, was entirely wrapped up.' Just then Dame Nature
favoured our traveller with such awful exhibitions of her
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXYIT. T
274 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
mio-ht in the way of wind and snow that he Avas forced to halt
for'some days at the house of his old friend Grape, where he
learned something of Finnish, and a little how to go on snow-
shoes, though he confesses that he was never quite at his ease
in * coasting,' i.e. gliding down the hills, on those delight-
ful implements. This Grape, who lived at Ruskola, was,
as might be supposed from his name, no teetotaller. His
family was as old as Noah or the hills, and when Du Chaillu
left he opened a bottle of old wine and drank to the parting
guest.
On he went to Sattajarvi, where the news of his arrival had
preceded him. ' Here is Paulus again,' they said, ' all the Avay
' from Stockholm.' When they heard he was going on the North
Caue to live with the Laplanders, they exclaimed, ' Did you
' ever see such a man ? ' and would not believe it. With
a:reat effrontery Paulus asked ^ Where is my friend Kristina ? '
The reader of course remembers the young woman who
thought he had asked her to go with him to America, and
whose mother had reproached him. ' " She lives in Pirtiniemi,"
' they replied, two stations back on the way to Haparanda.
' "Why, have you not seen her ?" " No ! " said I, "it is too bad.' "
They tried to keep him with them, but it was all no good.
When they talked to him of the troubles that would beset him
on the journey, he answered ' Yes, I shall have trouble. It is
' hard to travel in a country if one cannot talk with the people,'
so that in February, 1873, he was still unable to converse in
that very difficult language, Finnish. Next morning, the
Sattajarvians brought him a guide : ' Paulus, we have brought
* you a girl to go to Norway Avith you ; she will be able to
'interpret for you.' This was Elsa Karolina, a young and
pretty girl of seventeen ; she lived in Norway with a married
sister, but had come back to be confirmed at Pajala. She
too would gladly have gone with Paul to America, Avhich
these simple people look upon as an Eldorado, but Paul
was faithful to his trust, and when he got to NorAvay handed
Elsa Karolina safely over to her sisters. But they had a
rough time of it. The}' sledged up the bank of the Muonio
river to the lake which feeds it, and then over the mountains till
they reached Lyngen Fjord, almost opposite to the Lofoden
Islands. At Muonionalusta, a little short of Muoniovara^
they slept in a house where Du Chaillu declares that ' the
' residents were not bashful ' — no, we should think not. When
bedtime came they all took off their shoes and stockings, and
hung them up on a cross pole near the ceiling. Elsa Karolina
and one of the daughters slept together, ' while the eldest
1882. The Land of the Midniyht Sun. 275
* daughter slept near me, bundling with her sweetheart, this
* being the lovers' day^
We cannot help thinking that this must have been very-
bad for Elsa Karolina, if not for such a hardened traveller
as Paul, and we are glad to hear that at Muoniovara they
were both consigned to the tender care of the Lapps, and
had to learn how to drive reindeer in boat-shaped Lapp
sledges. This mode of travelling, except for the honour of it,
is scarcely so pleasant as the vulgar vehicle called ' shanks's
mare,' for it consists in rushing down hills behind reindeer
more or less broken, with one's legs dangling out on either
side to steer by, in which process it occasionally happens
that one's legs are broken. It would be wrong to call
reindeer hard-mouthed, because they are not driven by bit,
the reins being attached to the base of their horns, but they
are very self-willed, and evidently hate being driven. We
have no time to dwell on the falls and rolls the pair had
bead over heels in the snow, and the charming way in which
they both showed their agility, but Elsa Karolina especially,
by jumping on her feet, and into the sledge again in a second.
In the course of these adventures M. du Chaillu had ample
opportunity for observing the Lapp women, and he came to
the conclusion that their skin is very white, and that those who
have described them as a dark-skinned race have made a
mistake, probably from not having had the opportunity, as our
traveller had, of seeing them Avhen they take their baths.
Ax last, after fearful tempests and dangerous descents, they
crossed the mountains, and came down on Skibotten at the
top of the Lyngfjord, just in time for the March fair. Elsa
Karolina was now near her friends, and was despatched to them
' with a little money,' and a gold ring on her finger. Pehr or
Peter, whose pardon we beg for not having mentioned him
before, the Lapp Avho had been his guide, was also sent home
well pleased, and Du Chaillu's journey across the mountains
beyond the Arctic circle was over.
Next he went to the Lofoden Islands, and saw the Avay
of catching cod and the manners and customs of the fishermen,
Avhom he describes as a pious God-fearing race, who would not
swear like the Swedes or some other Norwegians, not for any-
thing. There he stayed till after Easter, when he determined
to pay his old friend the North Cape a visit by sea in the
spring or late winter, and then doubling round across the
Tana Fjord, and into the Varanger Fjord, he found himself
at the very extremity of the Norwegian kingdom. Tie reached
Vadso, the last town on the Norwegian shore, on April 25,
276 The Land of the Midnight Sun. Jan.
and found Ins old friend the sun making such rapid strides
towards his monotonous midnight appearance as to enable Paul
even then to read a newspaper at midnight. His object in
going to the Varanger was to make his way up the Tana
river, just along the Russian and Norwegian border, and to
see what the La])ps in those parts were like. But he was
almost too late ; the Lapps had most of them left the seashore
for the Fjeld, there were no guides and no reindeer to be had,
and if any reindeer were found they were weak and out of
condition. At last two Lapps with three reindeer were found,
who agreed at a high price to carry him to Karasjok, a place
not far from Kaukoteino, on one of his former routes. Thence
another Lapp took him to Kaukoteino.
It is in this part of his book that Du Chaillu describes what
ma}' be called the installation of the Northern Order of the
Bath, in which it will be seen that, though there are many
Companions, there cannot be said to be any ' investiture,' as the
ceremony is conducted in puris naturalihiis. He draws a veil
over the exact locality, but it is to be inferred that the order
is Avidespread over all the northern provinces of the peninsula,
though we must confess that we never heard of its existence
before, and even now, 'like another Paul,' only partly believe it.
The way he became affiliated to the order was in this wise.
He expressed his wish to have a hot bath. Well, a large
cauldron is prepared, and he has just stepped into it when ' a
* stout girl of twenty summei'S jumps in, dress and all, and
* says " Paulus, I have come to help you." ' Then she
rubs the undraped Paul with soap and switches him Avith
birch twigs. This was when he was only a neophyte. Then
he had his bath alone or in company with a dressed young
woman ; but when the people began to regard him as one of
themselves, he was advanced in dignity and invited to bathe
enfamille, and the neighbours, or, as he Avill write it, ' neigh-
' bors,' would often come to bathe with Paul. On the first of
these occasions, Saturday being the day on which these rites take
place, the girls, who Avere just cleaning the bath-house, which
is a separate building, called out, ' Paulus, take a bath with
* us to-day,' as one would say, ' take a cup of tea.' The weather
was piercing cold, and the ground covered with snow. ' From
' my Avindow I saw several maidens Avending their Avay Avith
' rapid steps, in a costume that reminded me of Africa, minus
' the colour.' In a Avord, these young ladies had nothing on
but a necklace or a ring or so. Then came tAvo or three old
Avomen, who very properly had old skirts round their scraggy
Avaists. When the Avhole levee had assembled, Du Chaillu
1882. The Land of the Midn'ujht Sun. 277
followed tlieui in the same scantj costume, Avhich allowed the
manly proportions of the great gorilla-hunter to be plainly
visible to the undraped eye. A Swedish bath is own sister or
brother to a Turkish or a Russian one, plus the promiscuous
mingling of the sexes. They poured hot and cold water over
one another, and the young women switched Du Chaillu, and
he switched them again with birch rods, all to promote a healthy
circulation. After a final flagellation, the companions of the
bath ran out and rolled themselves in the snow, and then made for
the house, where we need only add that they wiped and dressed
themselves in the same intersexual manner, and then shook
hands, and no doubt kissed and parted in a state of great ex-
hilaration, promising to meet the next Saturday for further
bathing and birching. On June 16 Du Chaillu was once
anore in Haparanda, and his winter journey was over. ' We
* have wandered together, dear reader,' he says, ' in summer
* and winter in these high latitudes, and I have gained my
* object if I have been able to give you a correct idea of the
' land of the midnight sun.' If Mrs. Grundy should call the
description of Saturday bathing ' correct,' we shall be very
much surprised.
Out of these two journeys, one in the summer of 1871 and
the other in the winter and spring of 1872 and 1873, the
backbone of these volumes is formed. Besides, there is a mass
of statistical information, compiled out of books and aided by
observation, but which might almost as easily have been
w^ritten in New York as in Sweden. Interspersed among
these somewhat dry details, which are much enlivened by
beautiful illustrations, are Avhat Ave may call 'bouts ' of travel,
forming the most amusing portions of the book, in AA^hich M.
du Chaillu describes his A^sits to farmers both in NorAvay and
Sweden, and gives a lively picture of their hearty and homely
AA'ay of life and of their free and curious customs. Before
taking leave of M. du Chaillu aa'c must favour our readers
AA'ith a few AA^ild snatches from his account of a visit Avhich he
paid to Dalecarlia, Avhere, in the district Avatered by the tAA^o
Dalelfs or Dale rivers and round the lovely Lake Siljan, there
dAvell on their farms the most primitive race of yeomen in the
world. Our traveller had been invited to a Avedding on a
midsummer's day at Leksand, in this district, and did not fail
to put in an appearance. The night before the Avedding he
was just tucked up in a bedroom in a little house all to himself,
Avhen the bride and the bridegroom's sister came in and said,
^ Paul, are you asleep ? ' He answered no, and then, taking off
their shoes and partly dressed, they lay doAvn to rest on a bed
278 Tke Land of the Midnight Sun. Jau.
opposite to his. ' We come here to keep you company,' they
said ; ' we do not wish you to feel lonely.' Bub there was still, it
seems, a third bed in the room, and soon after a young farmer
and a handsome girl, to whom he was engaged, came in, and
both lay, fully dressed Ave are glad to hear, on the third couch
and *fell asleep in each other's arms.'
On this occasion, to do honour to the natives, Du Chaillu
had prepared a surprise. He had made, and wore, the costume
worn by the men of Leksand, and when he looked at himself
in the glass ' a glow of satisfaction overspread ' his face, ' and
* with a feeling of vanity, natural to men on such an occasion,
* I really thought I was not ill-looking.' How charming
a thing is conceit! Like sleep, as Cervantes says, it covers
some men all over as it were with a cloak. We need hardly say
that when our traveller appeared in Dalkarl garb, the popular
excitement was intense. ' Look at Paul ! He is not proud.
' He is now like one of us.' All through that wedding-day the
crowd exclaimed, ' Look at Paul, do look at Paul I ' After tlie
Avedding came the wedding feast, and our traveller soon learned
that popularity has its penalties as well as its pleasures.
He Avas made to eat and drink four times as much as Avas
good for him, and Avhen he left the table and Avent out into the
yard to take a little breath, he was seized by the bride's father
and dragged into his house to eat another meal. More than
this, the feast lasted seven days, and on the third day most of
the guests Avere groaning Avith pain, and the peculiar disease
known in England as ' hot coppers 'in a very aggraA'^ated form.
Du Chaillu resisted as long as he could, but he too fell a
victim to this malady, and sought relief by retiring to a
farm AAdiere he found a father and mother asleep in one bed,
and threAV himself on another Avhere the daughter of the
house was fast asleep. We only hope that he rose up early
in the morning and made his escape before the young lady and
her parents Averc aAvare of his presence.
On these occasions many presents are made, and amongst others
rings. Of the last Du Chaillu Avas very liberal, and once nearly
got into trouble. He had placed a gold ring on the engagement
finger of a young AA'oman, and Avent his Avay AA'ithout knowing
the significance of his act. But others knew it, for soon after
the father of tlie girl knocked him up early in the morning, to
know Avhat he meant by it. ' Paul,' said he, ' there is much
* talk in our villafije in regard to the rincr you Q;ave to niA'
' daughter. I come to ask Avhat is your meaning? Do you
' really think of marrying her ? ' To this plain question our
traveller ansAvered like a man and an American : ' We do not
1882. A Whig Retort. 279
' marry so hastily in America, and do not bind ourselves in
' such a way. Your daughter is a very fine girl, and I gave
' her that ring simply as a token of friendship.' ' Afterwards,'
he says, ' I was very particular when I gave a gold ring,' and
this particularity consisted ' in giving several in the same
' hamlet, to prevent gossiping,' which shows that with gold
rings in Sweden there is safety in cheerful giving.
And now we take leave of M. du Chaillu and his book,
which will well repay perusal. We have expressed our
opinion freely as we went along. He is a hard traveller and
a keen observer, though we do not think travelling in
Lapland is so hard as he represents it. The farming class,
the hempen homespuns of the peninsula, are by his own
account very fond of him, and we have no doubt it is the truth,
for in their eyes America, whither so many of their friends
and kinsmen have migrated, is a free land flowing with milk
and honey. In one city on the Great Salt Lake some of the
free and easy Scandinavian customs would not fall to receive
a ready welcome. As ' bundling ' seems to be common both
to Lapps and Welshmen, that perhaps is the reason why
Mormonism is so largely recruited from both those countries.
Be that as it may, we now shake hands with Paul, hoping
that he will visit many other lands, and leave them as
amusing and self-complacent as he has shown himself in the
Land of the Midnio-ht Sun.
Art. XL— 1 . The Position of the JVhigs. By Charles Milnes
GrASKELL. (' Nineteenth Century ' for December, 188 L)
2. Burke. By John Morlet. London: 1880.
Tt is a fashion of the day to treat the Whigs as an extinct
-*- political party, Avhose very existence can only be traced
in the remote annals of past history, as Professor Owen
brings to lio;ht the dragons and tortoises of the primaeval ages
from an ingenious analysis of their fossil remains. VV e are so
used to this language that we are tempted at times to doubt
our own existence. Mr. Milnes Gaskell, in the article we
have placed at the head of these pages, states as an ascertained
fact that ' the Whigs occupy the place of a blank leaf between
' the Old and New Testaments, to use Sheridan's simile, and
' would find it very hard to formulate their wishes, or to give
' honest expression to their opinions ; ' and he winds up his
indictment by affirming that ' the time will come when the
' student of politics will search in vain for " plain Whig prin-
280 A lVlu<j Retort Jan.
' " ciples " except hi tlie pages of the " Edinbiirgli Review." '
That is a conipliineiit to oiusclves Avhicli we should be proud to
accept, if it did not involve the extinction of an entire species
of most estimable human beings. It is true that we shall en-
deavour, as long as we exist at all, to keep the blue and yellow
flag flying on this old Tower of the INIarches, whatever hordes
and caterans may invade and harry the land, [)ecause we be-
lieve it to be an asylum of justice, freedom, and truth. IMuch
has happened, much may happen, in the course of events to
perplex and distract the staunchest members of the Liberal
party and of all political parties. But in the long run men
look to consistency of political principles for the guidance and
government of states. It is no part of a public journal to
direct or control the functions of executive or parliamentary
government on particular questions and occasions. It would
be presumptuous to attempt it. We are content to play a
much humbler part, which is simply to remind the country of
principles, Avhether of constitutional law or of public economy,
which are sometimes sacrificed to expediency, but are never
sacrificed with impunity. Still less do we presume to reflect
upon the conduct of those who, from far-sighted and patri-
otic motives which are partly known to us, have acquiesced in
a policy which would not have originated with themselves:
but if there be any members of the Administration who have
allowed their better judgment on great questions of social
order and the rights of property to yield to the exigencies of
party interest, we can only say that we should have pursued
a different course.
Mr. Milnes Gaskell himself bears, if we are not mistaken, a
good Whig name. Indeed, he bears the names of two highly
respectablc Presbyterian families, well known in Yorkshire
and Lancashire. We strongly suspect that he is a Whig
without knowing it ; he may even be a Whig who has not the
courage to avoAv that he inherits so unfashionable a creed ; lui-
less, indeed, he is himself a blank leaf between the past and the
future. But for ourselves, who are AVhigs and nothing else,
we claim the right to raise from the depths of oblivion a modest
plea for existence ; and we shall even venture to contend tliat
the great bulk of liberal intelligence in the country still holds
to our own principles and o[)inions. We shall say nothing of
the past. The testimony of great statesmen, from Burke to
Bismarck, is not needed to assure us that gratitude for past
services counts for nothing in politics.
' The evil that men do lives after tliem,
The u'ood is oft interred Avitli their bones.'
1882. A Whig Retort. 281
But as long as the pages of Burke, to which even Mr. Morley,
one of the chief scorners of the Wliig party, pays no unwilling
homage, Jiold their place in English literature, it cannot be
said that Whig principles are without a voice or influence in
the Avorld. We have placed the name of Burke at the head
of this article, because he is, and will ever remain, the most
eloquent and illustrious expositor of these principles ; and if
they have lost anything of their lustre in another age, it is
because the traditions of the party have devolved upon less
powerful men. But the question remains, and we propose
briefly to discuss it : Is it true or false that Whig principles
are alive or dead ? Are they still an active power in the
State ? or are they as defunct as those of the Jacobites, their
opponents in the last century ? They are called Whig prin-
ciples ; the name is of no importance ; we are attached to them,
not because they are Whig, but because they are the principles
of the British Constitution — nay, more, because they are the
everlasting principles of freedom, justice, and humanity.
It is another fashion of the present day to deal with political
subjects as if they were governed by no principles at all, but
must obey every gust of the popular will, impelled by the
passions or interests of the hour. Indeed the late Mr. Buckle,
though much given to historical generalisation, maintained
that no general principles existed in politics ; that the art of
government Avas purely empirical, and ruled by the circum-
stances of each case, which amounts to saying that there is no
scientific government at all, and no obligation on the guides
and rulers of mankind but to drift with the tide. That Avas
not the language or the spirit of the orators and statesmen of
the last century. It was their constant aim and endeavour to
shoAv that the measures they proposed and the course they
adopted in particular cases were in strict conformity with the
rules of conduct which wisdom, experience, and morality pre-
scribed. They reverenced that restraint of equal laws which
they regarded as the essential condition of true liberty ; and
as Mr. Morley says of Burke, in a very noble passage, ' They
* valued the deep-seated order of systems that worked by the
' accepted uses, opinions, beliefs, and prejudices of a com-
* munity.' * If there are those who hold that such restraints
can be thrown aside for the attainment of momentary power, we
are not of that opinion. The government of States cannot be
carried on by rash experiments, such as are tried in the
paroxysms of revolution, when the convictions of men are
* Morley's Burke, p. 150.
282 A Wld(j Retort. Jan.
shaken, and tliey snatch up the first weapon that comes to
hand, but by settled rules and traditions of policy, which are
gradually improved by a more profound and accurate know-
ledge of the laws of public economy. These are what we call
princi[)les — it matters not by what party nickname they are
called — and we say it is impossible they should perish, because
they are founded on generous and liberal views of the duty of
government, on a manly confidence in the progress of tolerance
and freedom, and on strict and sound theorems of political
economy, some of w^hich are capable of mathematical demon-
stration. It is by the truth and stability of such jn'inciples
that a political party can alone be judged ; and the clami of
the Whigs to the confidence of the nation is in exact propor-
tion to the fidelity with which that party has adhered to such
principles, and defended them against the encroachments of
arbitrary power springing either from above or fronr below.
And the defence of these principles rests not mth a small band
of intelligent politicians, but with the great mass of the free,
law-abiding, and enlightened people of this country.
What is the position falsely assigned to us? AVe are told
that the nation is divided into two great parties — Tories and
Democrats, Conservatives and Revolutionists — and that between
these two all-devouring forces there is no escape and no alter-
native. He who is not with us is against us ; and the leading
organ of the Tory party assures us that the friends of law,
order, and national liberty, must fall into the Tory ranks or
perish miserably. We deny the fact. The Whigs are sepa-
rated from the Tories by the great gulf of tradition and by
the fact that the Tories have been the steady opponents of
every measure of toleration, reform, and free trade, ultimately
carried by Whig influence. The Tories have no rational
remedy to offer for the difficulties and discontents which now
afflict a portion of the United Kingdom. Their sole reliance
is on resistance, and on a resistance Avliich they are not strong
enough to maintain, and which woiild cause incalculable evils
if it could be maintained and enforced. They know themselves
that they would break down in the effort, and that the reaction
Avould be more formidable than the disorder they seek to re]n-ess.
Indeed we niight go much furtlier and draw a darker line of
distinction if it Avere worth while to discuss the doctrines of
Toryism as they have recently been propounded to the world
by high a,uthority speaking in the name of the Conservative
party. For these high prerogative doctrines, Avitii their ex-
travagant assumptions and preposterous consequences, are
more Avorthy of 8ir Kobert Filmer, Dr. Sacheverell, and Lord
1882. A Whig Retort 283
Bolingbroke, than of the Conservatives of the present day.
It is the fate of that party at this time to be led in one House
of Parliament by a statesman more remarkable for courage
than for prudence, and in the other House by a statesman
more remarkable i'or prudence than for courage ; but neither
courage nor prudence would induce or allow them to adopt
and avow principles which are far more obsolete than those of
their Whig opponents.
The Whigs are separated from the Radicals by the fact that
the advanced sections of that party look to large organic
changes in the political and social institutions of Great Britain,
They would disestablish the Church ; they Avould. destroy the
power of the House of Lords as an estate of the realm; they
are but feebly attached to the monarchy itself — some of them
prefer a republican form of government. The Birmingham
patriots demand a large increase of executive power — a strange
l^erversion of Liberal principles — in order to enable them to
enforce with unlimited authority what they call the ' will of
' the people.' Writers like Mr. Frederic Harrison and Mr.
Goldwin Smith are good enough to propose an entirely new
form of government to the EngHsh people, the old one being
entirely Avorn out. The Whigs are not in favour of any of
these changes. They stand by the Constitution.
The present state of Ireland is an apt and striking illustra-
tion of the distinction which may be drawn between Whig
principles and Radical practice. We do not remember in our
history so complete an example of the application of Radical
principles, originating with the Land League and sanctioned
by the Legislature, but wholly opposed to Whig traditions.
No other part of Europe has witnessed so correct an example
of Radical legislation, applied by Radical agents. The ex-
periment is interesting, and we hope to learn something from
it. We have no intention to offer any critical remarks
on the cause of these disturbances, for which all parties are
somewhat to blame, since all parties have, consciously or un-
consciously, contributed to them : the Tories from their Aveak-
ness at the outset of the agitation ; the Whigs from a too
generous confidence in the effects of Liberal government Avhich
led them to relax the grasp of authority ; the Radicals because
they have applied remedies Avhich have aggravated the evils
they hoped to cure, and are even supposed to be leading to the
ruin and spoliation of the classes possessing property, and to
the utter demoralisation of the classes j^ossessing none. All
we are here concerned to say is, that these results are not to be
laid to the charge of Whig principles ; they are the consequence
284 A ff'.hir/ Retort. Jan.
of a denial and abandonment of tliose principles which Wliio;
statesmen profess, and have till now invariably practised.*
Whig statesmen carried the Westmeath Act, when Lord
Hartington was Chief Secretary for Ireland ; and framed the
late Lord Grey's powerful Act of 18.38. Both these mensures
were effectual, and Lord Grey broke up the Ministry that
had carried the Reform Bill, and retired from office, rather
tlian surrender even a portion of the law which he considered
to be necessary to preserve the peace of Ireland. That Act
crushed the Repeal movement begun by O'Connell, and sa^ed
the Empire. Lord Clarendon, as Lord-Lieutenant of Ire-
laiid, succeeded in 1848 in quelling a far more formidable
agitation, backed by the revolutions of continental Europe,
and he could boast that, in Dublin at least, not a head nor a
pane of glass had been broken. Lord Kimberley, in the same
position, subdued a violent party conflict in Belfast by a firm
and timely exercise of power. These were the acts of emineut
Whig statesmen, and though they were denounced by O'Con-
Dell and his successors, they were acts of mercy to the many,
acts of severity to the few. The Duke of Argyll, the Marquis
of Lansdowne, and Earl Grey, all staunch Liberals, stated in
their speeches last Session what Whig principles applicable
to Ireland really are, based on the truths of political economy
and the rules of law. We recognise in those measures and
those speeches, Avhether they are popular or not, the tra-
ditions of the great party to which those statesmen belong.
A different policy has been followed. We wish that it had
been more successful in checking the destruction of property
and the effusion of blood by crime. A Radical politician and
minister has said in public that 'there way he times when it
' is the highest duty of a Liberal Government to support and
' to assert the law.' Those words disclose the whole difference
between us. We maintain that the support of law and order,
the protection of life and property, and the maintenance of the
integrity of the United Kingdom, are now and ulicays the first
* It is scarcely necessary to point out that by far the most searching
criticisms of the economical and Ifigal effects of the Irish Land Act
have proceeded from Liberal statesmen and writerf>, animated hy no
party hostihty to the present Administration. The most thorough" and
effective of these criticisms, which we have met with, is the xVddress on
the Irish Land Act delivered in the Hall of ]\Ierton College, Oxford, on
the 5th December last, by the Honourable Gecrge Brodrick, Warden of
that college, and published in 'Eraser's IMagazine ' for January 1882.
Mr. Brodrick's Liberal principles are beyond dispute, and we strongly
recommend his paper to our readers.
1882. A Whig Retort, 285
and chief duty of Government, and that there is none beside
it or like unto it. But these are Whig not Eadical opinions.
Are we singular in entertaining them ? *
We pass on, however, to the consideration of larger topics.
The fundamental condition of the British Constitution, as we
understand it, is simply this, that no uncontrolled, undivided,
and immediate authority is entrusted to, or vested in, any man
or any single body or class of men. The power of the
Sovereign is exercised through others, under the system of
ministerial responsibility established in 1688. The power of
the First Minister of the Crown is shared and limited by his
colleagues, by his supporters in Parliament, and by various
departments of State. The House of Lords has but little in-
itiative, and is powerless to raise or expend the public money.
Its chief function is to review the measures of the other House
of Parliament. Priests and synods are controlled by the tem-
poral power, because the Sovereign is the head of the Church,
and the Church is established by statute and governed by the
law. The House of Commons enjoys all the powers that can be
conferred by the electoral body, but it has to confront powers
which are not elective, and it would be an evil day for the
liberties of England if the House of Commons or any other
institution in the State succeeded in establishing an authority
paramount to all the rest. England abhors a dictatorial
power, which is another word for tyranny ; and every power
becomes tyrannical when it prevails without control over its
co-ordinates. The success of free government depends on
the harmonious working of this complicated machinery ; if it
is out of gear, or if any part of it obtains an excessive pre-
dominance, the consequence is that the machinery ceases to
* In justice to Mr. Chamberlain it should be added that since these
lines were written he has declared that
' at this moment I am convinced that the great majority of the people
would gladly settle down to the enjoyment of their new rights if they were
relieved from the fear of secret violence, and it is the duty and will be the
object of the Government to give them all the protection which the resources
of the State can supply. In doing this I confidently rely on the support of
every Liberal, as I know nothing which would be more fatal to democratic
progress than an opinion, justified by facts, that Liberalism cannot defend
the freedom which it is its object to establish, and is powerless to protect the
majority against the anarchy and disorder which are fostered by an irrecon-
cilable minority.'
This declaration brings its author much nearer to our own view
of sound Liberal principles, and we take it to represent the deUberate
purpose of the Government, though it is not viewed with unmixed
satisfaction by their Kadical supporters.
286 A Whig Retort. Jan.
work, legislation is temporarily suspended, the Executive is
weakened. But these evils are incomparably less fatal than a
violation of the freedom and of the rights of each member of
the State.
It is in the nature of man that different i)owers thus exer-
cised should perpetually contend for more influence than they
actually possess. At one time it has been the Crown, at an-
other the aristocracy, at another the Church, and at the present
time it is the popular element in the Constitution. This contest
is the life of our political structure. It is this movement that
adapts the machine to the exigencies of the times. We neither
fear it nor deprecate it. On the contrary, we hope that the
progress of education and experience will qualify the masses
of the people to take a larger share of political power. But
if the spirit and the frame of the Constitution is to be pre-
served, no such share of power ought to be allowed to become
exorbitant, in the literal sense of that word. The political
views of those who aim at the establishment of an absolute
ascendency in the popular branch of the Legislature, and even
of popular clubs and caucuses supreme over the House of
Commons itself, are simply subversive of the constitutional
fabric, and, If they coidd be successful, they would establish a
tyranny not widely differing from that of the Jacobin Club
or the French Convention.
In the memorable chapter on the tyranny of the majorltv
which occurs In M. de Tocqueville's ' Democracy in America,'
he exclaims, 'I hold it to be an Impious and execrable maxim
' that, politically speaking, a people has a right to do whatso-
* ever it pleases.' All political actions are subject to the eternal
laws of justice.
' It has been asserted,' he continues, 'that a people can never en-
tirely outstep the boundaries of justice and of reason in those affairs
Avhich are more peculiarly its own, and that consequently full power
may be given to the majority by which it is represented. But this
language is that of a slave. . . . Unlimited power is in itself a bad and
dangerous thing. Human beings are not competent to exercise it with
discretion, and God alone can be omnipotent, because His wisdom and
His justice are equal to His power. But no power upon earth is so wortliy
of honour for itself, or of reverential obedience to the rights it repre-
sents, that I would consent to admit its uncontrolled and all-predominant
authority. When I see that the right and the means of absolute com-
mand are conferred upon a people or iipon a king, upon an aristocracy
or a democracy, a monarchy or a republic, I recognise the germ of
tyranny, and I journey onwards to a land of more hopeful institutions.' *
* De Tocqueville, ' Democracy,' vol. i. p. 264.
1882. A Whig Retort. 287
If Mr. Milnes Gaskell is still in search of Wliig principles,
these are of them.
All publicists are agreed that the controlling influence of a
second Chamber or Senate is an essential part of constitutional
government. The founders of the American Union created it
with great success, and made their Senate the most powerful
and respected body in the Commonwealth. The French Re-
public has adopted it, and possesses a Senate of far better
composition than its Lower Chamber. England has her
House of Lords, hereditary as the Crown is hereditary, but
perpetually recruited by the promotion of the ablest men in
the law, in the Church, in the army, and in civil affairs. It
such a Senate is to exist, it is absurd to complain that it some-
times exercises the very powers and functions that belong to
it. If such powers are never to be exercised at all, no such
body should remain ; it were better that its leading members
should be merged in the sole Chamber, where their personal
authority and talents would be more felt. Nothing can be
more idle than to raise a cry against a check to an impulsive
policy, which must be cautiously exercised, and which will
ultimately yield, if it be fit, to the pressure of trutli and
public opinion.
The history of antiquity and modern experience alike prove
that the tendency of democratic institutions is to place power
in a single hand. That made Pericles the master of Athens.
That was the origin of Roman Cajsarism. That is the theory
on Avhich the Bonapartes established their supremacy. The
French Republic drifts to a vulgar C^esarism without a
Ca3sar. Even the Constitution of the United States places
in the hands of the President a greater executive power than
is possessed by any sovereign or minister in Europe, limited
chiefly by the duration of his office. This one-man power, as
it has been termed, is the result of the confidence which the
multitude, unable to decide political questions for themselves,
place in a demagogue, or a military chief, or a democratic
leader. This is the chief danger of extreme popular institu-
tions, and the most fatal to constitutional government, in which
no authority is undivided and no portion of sovereignty uncon-
trolled. To any such theory of popular absolutism true con-
stitutional principles are radically opposed. The strength of
an opposition is as essential to the preservation of liberty as
the strength of the government is to the maintenance of order
and authority.
These are truths so elementary that it would not be worth
while to submit them to the judgment of our readers, were it
288 A nlivj Retort Jan.
not that since Whig principles are sunk deeper than ever
plummet sounded, it may be of use to the generation to which
such writers as Mr. Mihies Gaskell belong to remind them
of their existence. AVe may inform them that it is on this
basis that the British Constitution, as it has existed for nearly
two centuries, rests. It has procured for the people of this
country during the whole of that period a degree of freedom,
order, and security from revolution which no other nation
has enjoyed. Imperfections there have been and still are,
but the machinery of the Constitution contains witliin itself a
power of self-adjustment by the wise process of Keform ; and
although the country has passed through many contests and
some perils, none of them have shaken the stability of the
realm.
The Whig party has never been numerically strong.
Throughout the reigns of George III. and George IV. its
principles were defended by eloquent and intelligent minorities,
excluded from office for about seventy years. The Whig
members, who met at Lord Althorp's house in the autumn
of 1830, are said to have numbered scarcely forty votes. Yet
these men carried the Reform Bill of 1832, abolished slavery
in the colonies, passed the New Poor Law, and, when the ne-
cessity arose, put down by strong legislation disturbances in
Ireland not less formidable than those of the present time.
They originated these great measures ; they inaugurated the
era of Reform ; but it Avill be said they had the ])eople of
England behind them. No doubt, they Avere the leaders, and
the wise leaders, of the popular cause, able to direct a great
popular movement to wise ends, and to control it. How is it
with them now ?
HoAv stands the country between these two contending
forces of Tories and Democrats, Conservatives and Revolu-
tionists? Is there no medium between the two extremes?
Is the future government of England to be arrested by the
retrograde prejudices of one party, or imperilled by the rash
innovations of the other ? We believe nothing of the kind.
The political centre of gravity, as we have more than once
said in this Journal, lies between the two. The great bulk of
the intelligence of the nation and all its greatest interests ai'e
neither Tory nor Radical. They occupy that central posi-
tion Avhich is precisely the one which we have it at heart to
defend. In France parties are conveniently described from
the position they occupy in their semicircular hall of assembly :
the extremes are called the Right and the Left, between them
sit the Rii^ht Centre and the Left Centre. INI. Thiers used
1882. A Whig Retort. 289
to say in more tranquil times, ' La France est Centre Gauche,'
the Left Centre represents the country. That is the inevi-
table result when a nation is not torn by factions or wearied
by revolutions. The people wish for progress, and they wish
for security. They are jealous of their rights, utterly opposed
to the slightest excess of authority, desirous of advance-
ment and improvement ; but they do not desire and will not
tolerate that the institutions of the realm should be attacked,
that the guarantees of constitutional liberty should be over-
thrown or undermined by factions, or that authority should
fail to give an adequate support to law and order, and ade-
quate protection to the rights and property of every citizen
and the common interests of society. These are the prin-
ciples of common sense and common justice. We shall not
affect to restrict their influence by any party designation, for
they are the principles Avhich patriotism and reason suggest
to men of all parties, and we shall content ourselves with
saying that they are held by none more firmly than by our-
selves.
It is to be regretted that principles of such general appli-
cation should be mixed up with personal considerations or even
with party interests. The statesman who adheres to them
most closely and applies them most firmly is, in our eyes, the
best Minister of the Crown and Constitution of England.
With them he is all-powerful ; without them no minister will
retain the confidence and respect of the country. In the
present state of political feeling in England, Avith large con-
stituencies moved by continual agitation and a powerful press,
and sheltered by the ballot from the charge of inconsistency,
no permanent reliance can be placed on personal influence or
even on party organisation. We saw Lord Beaconsfield carried
in triumph in the autumn of 1878, and hurled from power in the
spring of 1880. A similar fate had overtaken Mr. Gladstone
in 1874, though he has since retrieved it by the astonishing
resources of his energy and his eloquence. These fluctuations
of public opinion had too much of a personal character. They
Avere in fact the enthusiastic choice or rejection of a popular
leader, the natural results of excitement and agitation. But
Ave must be pardoned for saying that those Avho Avatch the
course of public afl^airs with less of passion than of reason Avill
judge of the conduct of their rulers, not by this or that speech
or this or that measure, but by their steadfast adherence to the
old rules of constitutional government. It is not enthusiasm
but confidence Avhich is the true basis of a permanent adminis-
tration ; and confidence will be yvon by a consistent application
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVII. U
290 A Whig Retort. Jan. 1882.
of those principles which the leaders of the Whig party profess
in common with the most sober and enlightened classes of the
nation.
We have no desire to prolong this discussion. Our inten-
tion in these remarks, which we have purposely confined to a
few pages, is not to reflect upon the opinions or the conduct of
those who happen to differ from ourselves, but simply to assert
the permanence and the force of the principles this Journal
has invariably maintained. Administrations are not perma-
nent; the persons who compose them change; the measures
they pi'opose, whether for good or evil, pass away. Party
combinations and organisation fluctuate and are exposed to all
the vicissitudes of fortune. But, if there be any truth in poli-
tical science, if there be any stability in law, if there be any
security to the institutions of society, these essential conditions
of civilisation and progress must be supported by principles
above the reach of circumstances and the caprices and igno-
rances of men. These are the traditions which it is the highest
privilege of a writer on public affairs to defend, and he may
perhaps defend them the better if he has no personal ambition
to gratify, and no personal interest in the contest. If lie
ceases to be an advocate, he may aspire in some degree to the
impartial functions of a judge, which are simply to interpret
and apply those rules of law and equity which are written in
the Constitution of the country.
No. CCCX VIII. will be published in Aj)ril.
THE
EDINBUKGH KEYIEW,
APRIL, 1882.
JVo- CCCXYIII.
Art. I. — 1. Lettres et Memoires de Marie (VAngleterre, epouae
de Guillaume III. Collection de Documents Authentiques
inedits. Par Mechteld, Comtesse Bentinck (nee
Waldeck). La Haye, Paris, and London : 1880.
2, Der Fall des Hauses Stuart. (1660-1714.) Von Onno
Klopp. Wien: 1876.
3. Les dernier s Stuarts a Saint- Germain-en-Laye. Par la
Marquise Campana di Cavelli. Deux tomes folio. Paris,
London, and Edinburgh : 1871.
A hundred years have passed since Sir John Dalrymple
finished his 'Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland.' In
dedicating that work to Lord North, he said that his own
recent discoveries among diplomatic papers, both at home and
abroad, ' should lead men to reflect that the day of reckoning
' will sooner or later come, when on the historic page their
* true characters and motives of action will appear.' During
the century that has elapsed since those words were written,
the actions alike of the Stuart princes and of their opponents
have not remained unchallenged. They have, on the contrary,
been handled by the most distinguished of English statesmen
and writers. The Revolution of 1688, being the most signal
triumph of the cause to which the genius of Mr. Fox Avas devoted,
could not fail to attract his attention. In the last years of his
life he visited Paris, and examined the papers which were then
known to exist in the collections of the State, as well as in the
Scots College. He said that ' his studies there had been useful
' beyond description,' but a history of James II., in one quarto
volume, is the only record left of them. It is an incomplete
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVIII. X
292 Tlie Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
as it is also a posthumous work, and it goes no further than the
collapse of Monmouth's rebellion. . r .
To the sympathies of Sir James Mackintosh the same sub-
ject warmly a]jpealed. It was his intention to write a con-
tinuation of Hume's ' History of England,' and sorely is it to
be regretted that this was never given to us to replace the
dreary pages of Smollett. But Mackintosh was a desultory
writer, and at his death all that was found ready for the press
Avas that charming fragment which follows the fortunes, or
misfortunes, of King James down to the fatal autumn of 1688.
He left, however, an amazing collection of documents illustrative
of a period of Avhich Lingard and Miss Strickland were pre-
sently to treat in a spirit entirely opposite to that of the two
liberal historians. To them William of Orange a])peared as
monstrous as he had appeared heroic in the eyes of Fox and
Mackintosh. Yet of the latter even Miss Strickland must
have allowed that no author had ever better opportunities for
studying his hero in all his most private relations. In Mackin-
tosh's hands had been placed copies of the Welbeck papers,
and from these private letters he would certainly, had he
lived, have added to the portrait of William many touches of the
most lifelike interest. The whole of the Mackintosh collections
ultimately came under the eyes of Lord Macaulay, and upon
him then devolved the task, say rather the joyful opportunity,
of compiling a History of England from the accession of
James II. In his hands this seemingly well-worn theme be-
came a wondrous tale. Details were kneaded or welded by
him into a whole, and the figures of men and women moved
again, all palpitating, on the historic stage. He was ever able
to extract from the rudest ore what was of value for his work ;
but it must also be said that he knew how to drive at an in -
petuous pace through the episodes and facts that either did
not suit his artistic purpose, or that clashed with his settled
prejudices. But he left English history very different from
what he found it, and such as he has made it any future his-
torian will find it very difficult to remake it. The dust has
gathered now over his desk, and the grave Avith its silence has
closed above the head in which that marvellous memory dwelt ;
yet Englishmen still feel the influence of his work. The inte-
rest it excited thirty years ago has never gone to sleep, and
because men's minds were so stirred by his History of the
Revolution of 1688, they welcome any additional information
about tlie dramatis persona of that the eventful year which
saw the fall of the House of Stuart.
When it dawned the succession to the crown of England was
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 293
still unsettled, but felt to be what Dr. Klopp calls it, a ' Schick-
' sals Frage fiir Europa.' On the one side stood the King of
France, the head of the monarchical party in Europe, unde-
pressed by the blow which Nimeguen once gave to his pre-
tensions, and master of the entrances into Germany, Italy,
and Spain. On the other side was William, Prince of Orange,
great, not by the servitude of his country, but through its
service, and by a deliverance, in 1672, which can only be com-
pared to that of Greece from the armies of Xerxes. Such
was William in Holland : abroad he represented the Protestant
cause, while for England he embodied the hope of release from
systematic oppression. Between these two leaders the enmity
was of long standing. The interest of both sides was evident,
and victory, it Avas felt in 1688, must remain with the player
who should make the best use of such opportunities as fate
might place in his hands. The game of the Dutch prince
promised fairly at one time. By his marriage with the English
heiress he scored a point, and such an alliance added to his
importance at home. But again in 1688, when Queen Mary
Beatrice expected her confinement, the Catholic appeared to be
the winning side, and every effort, loyal and. disloyal, had then
to be made, lest the appearance of an heir male to the crown
of England should ruin both the constitutional g-overnment
and the Anglican Church, and along with them the balance of
power in Europe.
While the scenes of this drama evolved themselves in England
all the Continental sovereigns had their agents there, and
never pei'haps had ambassadors or envoys more weighty mat-
ters to convey to their respective masters. Pens were kept
busy in London, and the writers who wielded them had agents
and correspondents abroad as clever and keen-sighted as them-
selves. Thus the documents relating; to the English Eevolution
which exist in Continental archives can be numbered by thou-
sands. The letters of Barillon were the first to be generally
quoted: and very condemnatory of his master they are. Sir
James Mackintosh published in the appendix to his first edition
many of the papers of D' Adda, that Papal nuncio who came to
England in secular dress and guise, and who did not betray his
true character till the king and queen had ceased to think so
much discretion necessary. Lord Macaulay gained credit by his
use of D'Avaux's despatches (printed by the Foreign Office),
and Banke contributed those documents from the Brandenburg
collection which Klopp, from some professional jealousy, makes
a point of knowing nothing about. It is really no matter for
jealousy, because, since Lord Macaulay and Ranke wrote their
294 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
histories of the English troubles in the seventeenth century,
Italian and Austrian archives have been made to give up their
treasures, and the papers of Terriesi and of Hoffmann unavoid-
ably render their readers wiser than their predecessors could
have been. We use the word ' treasures ' advisedly, for the
despatches of Terriesi and of Hoffmann are of extraordinary
value. There is a homely, living charm about Terriesi's Tuscan
idioms, and while he sent to Florence the most able accounts
of the men and measures that must bring about a change of
rulers in England, he let no trifle escape his notice. He reports
intervicAvs with ' my lord privy Seale ' and ' my lord canceliere,^
but he does not omit to mention the thirty physic bottles that
he saw in the nursery of the Prince of Wales, or his wonder
at ' the quantity of stuffs that could be poured into one poor
* bodikin ' (corpicciuolo). His name was well known in Eng-
land as that ' Count Therese ' Avho lent his carriage to assist
the royal fugitive, and to whom the king handed over his
strong box and papers. His letters and despatches in the
Medicean archives fill many large Jilze. The first letter is
dated January 24, 1675, and the last, from London, is written
on March 23, 1690, when the 'Giacomisti ' and the ' Guglie-
misti,' as he terms them, were fighting in Ireland. This
wonderful correspondence, with a minute account of the
queen's flight, and Avith a vast number of proclamations,
squibs, pamphlets, and reports of debates in both Houses,
makes up a possession of great value. The Avhole has been
copied at the expense of the trustees of the British Museum,
and Avas by their order added to the collection of additional
manuscripts, Avhere it now forms tAventy-four quarto volumes.
Terriesi did not entirely trust to his own excellent ears and
eyes ; he had correspondents Avho let him into some of the
secrets at the Hague. For example, Lente, the Danish Mi-
nister at the Court of William, Avas on intimate terms AAdth him.
Thus the Tuscan agent had early information that Avhen D' Albe-
ville gave a fete in honour of the ncAA^born Prince of Wales,
every official person, from the Hanoverian Minister doAvn to the
underlings of tlie establishment of Mary, absented himself or
herself. A hint had been dropped at head-quarters that the
birth of this child Avas to be discredited, and thus the envoy's
fete Avas passed over in contemptuous neglect.* As Stefano
Terriesi was the partisan of the Court and of the Romanising
party in England, his e\ddence is of the greater value. He
was clever and popular as Avell as vigilant, and he had some
* Medici Archives, F, No. 4240.
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 295
literary skill. His letters are, therefore, more skilfully written
than those of Salvetti, whose papers are, however, deservino- of
much attention. They form, when combined with the Ricasoli,
Del Bene, and Melani collections, such a weight of documen-
tary evidence that a very fair history of the fall of James II.
might be compiled by an author who had not looked for his
authorities beyond the libraries of Florence.
When we begin to consider the private history of Queen
Mary Beatrice, we find, as might have been expected, that
Modena is richer than any other place in letters illustrative
of her youth, her reign, and her family affections. Marie
Beatrice of England, Archduchess of Innspruck, Duchess of
Modena, the daughter of Laura Mancini, and therefore the
grand-niece of Cardinal Mazarin, is the only Italian who ever
sat on the throne of Great Britain. Of noble Guelphic ori-
gin, of remarkable beauty, and of unassuming virtues, hers
is one of the most touching figures in history. Her original
vocation was for the cloister ; yet it must be said that she was
very ignorant of the world which she wished to renounce, for she
was then only fourteen years of age, and her geographical re-
searches had not carried her so far as the isles of Britain.
When her hand was first solicited for the Duke of York, some
presentiment led her to request with tears that she might not
be married to him. But Louis 2^IV., who had arranged this
alliance, was not to be overruled by a few tears, and the bride
had to leave Modena with her mother for Paris. She wrote to
a friend, the abbess of a convent of Visitandines, a long and
na'ive account of this journey, and of the splendours of Ver-
sailles, where Louis himself did the honours to the bride elect.
When she landed at Dover she was met by the Duke of York,
and overcome by fears, fatigue, and girlish timidity, she burst
into tears at the first sight of the middle-aged, dark-visaged
husband to whom she was ultimately to give all the aflPection
of a gentle and not unheroic spirit. She was very delicate,
she had often to suffer a great deal from the Duke's infatua-
tion for Catharine Sedley, and perhaps m those early days, when
writhing under her coarse rival's power, she sighed for the
gloomy palace courts of Modena, for Sassuolo's green retreat,
or even for the cloisters of her friends, the Visitandines. Then
she unfortunately bequeathed her delicacy of constitution to
her offspring, and she had already buried four infants ere, in
June 1688, she gave birth to the son who was fated to be at once
the great sorrow and the great consolation of her life. The
family archives of Modena contain her letters, and those of her
relations and sympathisers, and from these ' Archivi Estensi '
296 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
the Marquise Campana di Cavelli has succeeded in putting to-
gether a very complete biography of the queen. To begin
with, Ave have the letters of Laura Mancini and of her son, the
reigning duke ; and there is an amusing description of Marie's
entrance into London from the pen of her brother, Rinaldo.
He describes the river and the crowds, and he adds, not without
a touch of humour, ' that it will be as well if none of them are
' long seen about the place.' Then there come the Cattaneo,
Nigretti, and Ricciardi papers, of which the first gives evidence
as to Louis's constant interference at Modena, and these are
followed by the very private letters of the Montecuccoli lady,
who was with her royal mistress at St. James's during the
alarming illness of the little Prince of Wales, and who shared
her flight. Next come the Ronchi manuscripts, of which the
value may be guessed when we say that Ronchi was chaplain
to Mary Beatrice, both as Duchess of York and as queen.
He knew of her visits to miraculous wells, and shared all her
hopes that the birth of a royal prince ' would be the most
' fitting antidote for extinguishing the heat which the Prince
' of Orange doth foment in the country, and humbling the
' pride of the many whom the hope of a Protestant succession
' hath stirred up to oj^pose openly the royal transactions.'
Interesting as are Ronchi's papers, they find an admirable
continuation in those of the Abbe Rizzini. He was the
resident in Paris for the house of Modena, and, as such,
privy to the French plan by which the hand of the Duke of
York was first offered to its young prinisess, and by which the
marriage of the Duke of Modena was now assisted, now
delayed, and a cardinal's hat procured for Rinaldo. After
the arrival of the English king and queen at St. Germains,
Rizzini, who had always urged them to flight, became their
constant visitor ; and it is through him, as well as through the
pathetic papers of the nuns of Chaillot, that we learn to
know the daily lives of the exiles as well as the wild hopes of
their followers.
It is now time to speak of the archives of Spain and of
Austria, two countries of divided symjiathies. Their Catho-
licism ought naturally to have enlisted them on the side of
James and of Father Petre ; but their fear of Versailles gave
them a much stronger bias in favour of the Prince of Orange.
Even in religious matters, by Spain, Portugal, part of Italy,
and by Austria, the claim of Louis to head the Catholic party
was denied, and they refused his lead ; while Spain, as his
nearest neighbour, had the most to fear from the universal
monarchy which he endeavoured to establish. How Ronquillo,
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 297
the Spanish ambassador, took stock of the French sympathies
of James and of the Jesuits, is evident from his despatches —
papers from Avhich Lord Macaulay drew very largely. But
another correspondence of Ronquillo's has appeared lately, far
more interesting and more private in its nature — viz. that which
passed between Ronquillo and Hoffmann, the Austrian agent
in London.* These letters do justice to the moderate wishes
of such respectable Catholics as PoAvis and Bellasis, while
they specify the aims of the two great European powers who
were then agreed to curb the influence of France. They tell
a very plain tale, though, from their date, they cannot touch
upon that later contradiction by which the Spanish king (in a
complete change of policy) finally handed over his empire to
Loviis. As for the emperor, fatigued and Aveakened by his
wars with Turks and Hungarians, he looked upon the Prince
of Orange with grateful admiration. He .remembered that
Louis had once offered to rid the young ruler of Holland of all
his enemies at home, and to make him a European sovereign,
protected by France and England. William, who saw all the
danger and all the indignity of such a position, one which
would never have been offered to him had not all the ad-
vantages been palpably on the side of France, replied that
if foiled in Holland he could retire to his German estates and
hunt, or, if need be, he could die in the last ditch in defence
of his country's independence. The emperor recognised all
the courage of this reply, but he perceived on the other hand
in the King of England nothing but corrupt subservience to
French dictation, and he never tired of pointing out to James
the danger of such a thraldom. In 1685, he had so far suc-
ceeded in impressing him, that Louis saw some symptoms of
a defection. The lettei'S in which Louis informed his agent
Barillon of this possible danger, and therefore desired him to
work on the fanaticism of the king, Avould of themselves suffice
to justify the Bevolution of 1688.
Of Hoffmann's admirable letters to his emperor, the Mar-
quise Campana di Cavelli has printed sixty, all absolutely new
to English readers ; Avhile Dr. Klopp has largely illustrated
his ' Fall of the House of Stuart ' by the papers of Thun and
of Kaunitz. The latter of these ministers remained in London
till the hour of the crisis, but Hoffmann continued there even
after the arrival of WiUiam and Mary, and he gives a most
detailed account of those events. His letters, which are Avritten
with frankness, yet in the most impassioned style, remind
* Now in the possession of the Duke of Medina-Coeli.
298 Tlie Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
one of the utterances of the chorus in a Greek tragedy. We
shall have occasion to quote from them presently — we will
only say here that these Austrian state papers fully explain
the complaints of King James as expressed in his Memoirs^
and his dying allusion to the Emperor Leopold.
The whole evidence of the records, from Tuscan, Modenese,
French, Spanish, and Austrian archives, to which may be
added those of Dresden, Berlin, and even of Venice (since there
is a curious correspondence between James and the Doges
Giustiniani and INIorosini), is in the highest degree condem-
natory of the king. They show his determination to carry
out a high-handed policy to the bitter end, and we do not
find, in them, what later sources afford, ])roofs of courage and
of that single-minded tenacity of feeling which it is not too
much to speak of as unworldly in a monarch who believed in
the divine right of kings to govern by themselves and for them-
selves alone. It is true that in the most faulty hours of his
life James had a minister as base as Sunderland, and a queen
who was, and remained, a foreigner to the English — a woman
of infinite merits, but who Avas ignorance personified. And if
the nation was jealous of her influence and advice, with what
eyes must it have regarded Father Petre, the agent of a Com-
pany which for every thousand of its members can always
reckon on ten thousand enemies? It was by strangers that
the Avires were really pulled ; and as Courtin, Barillon, Bon-
repos, Pointis, D'Avaux, and Lauzun succeeded each other in
London, so they vied with each other in bullying, bribing,
and flattering the king they were deputed to mislead. The
seed they sowed fell into good ground ; and though James had.
begun his life in banishment, it is certain, as Beranger sings,
that 'jamais I'exil n'a corrige les rois,' and having in three
years and a half forfeited the love of his subjects, he was
driven forth again, and to the fields of eternal exile. How
his over-busy prompters, home and foreign, lay and spiritual,
led him to his ruin, has long been Avell known ; but recent
research has demonstrated that these advisers Avere all, to use
a French phrase, ' more Catholic than the Pope.' King
Charles, though he received the last sacraments from Father
Huddlestone, warned his successor not ' to think of intro-
' ducing Popery into England, it being a thing dangerous
' and impracticable.' The best English Roman Catholics had
little sympathy Avith the encroachments of the Crown, and felt
that an excess of zeal might easily bring them again under
those penal restrictions Avith which they had already made-
a painful acquaintance. The Pope, who had his OAvn reasons
1 882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 299
for disliking the home policy of Versailles, was by no means
very favourable to King James. He remarked that his
Majesty was very unlikely to reconcile the kingdom of Great
Britain with the Holy See, and he firmly refused to give a red
hat to Father Petre. When James was in exile at St.
Germain, and almost ready, after the collapse of his plans in
Ireland, to retire into La Trappe, we notice in Mme. de
Sevigne's letters that French society felt little or no enthu-
siasm about him, and Bossuet, the most national of Gallican
prelates, said, with a shrug, that a Catholic sovereign, blest
with a little common sense, need not have clashed with his
Protestant subjects. The zeal of James, so intemperate and
so ruinous, was, had he but known it, the reflection both of
Louis' lifelong hatred for William of Orange, and of the
vaulting ambition of a priest, who saw in the strong will of
the king the way to satisfy his own conceptions, and to take
a splendid revenge for long years of repression in England.
The ' Priest's Hole ' and the sliding panels of English country
houses still bear witness to an era of persecution Avhen apothe-
caries made the wafer in secret, and when the mass was only
said in the chilliest hours of the early dawn, ere eavesdroppers
were stirring who were likely to denounce at once the celebrant
and the worshippers. In such thraldom Edward Petre had
grown up, and he was determined that when the last should
be first, his foot should be on the necks of his Church's enemies.
But about Petre, Terriesi, who Avas himself a devout son of the
Church, could write as follows : —
* Never was the king in such a mess as at present. . . . The whole
kingdom is alarmed by the strides he makes towards a spiritual and
temporal despotism, and even the Dissenters, who should be their
greatest enemies, are taking the side of the bishops. . . . The people
are enraged (arrahbiato), as they believe the conduct of the king to be
caused by the influence of the queen over his mind, and by the direc-
tion of the Jesuits and friars. The Pope never Avould consent to
clearing Father Petre of that characteristic, which is so odious in this
countrj', of Jesuitnj. The king being obliged to use him for im-
portant aiFairs, it follows from this, either that he must not so make
use of him, or that, by employing him, he will make him the instrument
of his own ruin.'
There can be no question but that the king, Barillon, and
Father Petre formed a triumvirate ; no question but that a
Catholic conspiracy existed against English liberties, and against
the Church of England; and nothing can justify James for his
corrupt communications with the French king. The chain of
evidence here is complete ; but Lord Macaulay was right
300 The Fall of the House of Stuart April,
when he complained that the Dutch archives have been too
little explored. There arc the contemporary papers of Citters
and Van Lewven, and in Wagenaar's History, as in Van
Kampen's ' Karacterkunden,' Lord Macaulay found pictures
of the events of 1688, and a likeness of its hero. Burnet,
and his nephew Johnstone, saw a great deal of what ultimately
passed at the Hague, and to the bishop's vivid memory we
owe the transcript of those polemical letters which passed
between Kiug James and a daughter whose Protestant prin-
ciples he attacked. The bishop's own behaviour, and his share
in the Revolution, are well known, and the letters of Dykevelt
and of Zulestein were all accessible to Dalrymple ; but what
we still Avant from Holland is a complete chain of the agents
and agencies at work there. We need to be better acquainted
with those home difficulties of William which made it so
desirable for him to steady a Dutch crown by putting an
English one on the top of it. The republican party there was
by no means so averse to French influence as this far-sighted
Dutch prince ; and his struggle for national independence, at
a time when the calamitous situation of the United Provinces
laid them open to all the blows of fortune, as well as his success
in rescuing Protestantism in Europe from an apparently
desperate situation, are truly heroic themes. They form, as
Fox remarked, delightful reading. But for us it would be
even more interesting to be able to trace in him the rising of
that passion of personal ambition which, as Burnet warned his
wife, would accept of no consort's crown, and which was only
truly gratified when he took his seat on the throne of England.
Above all, we should like to recover evidence of the first steps
taken by what we must in their turn call the Protestant con-
spirators against the reality of the birth of the Prince of
Wales. A party did arise whose object was to discredit and,
if possible, disown the birth of an heir male. To this con-
spiracy were privy, earlier or later, the Princess Anne of
Denmark, the Prince aad Princess of Orange, Bentinck and
his wife Anne Villiers, Churchill and his wife Sarah Jennings,
Burnet and his nephew. Sir Patrick Hume and his family (all
refugees at the Hague), with Dykevelt, and Zulestein, an
illegitimate offshoot of the house of Orange-Nassau. Gra-
dually there were drawn into it all those English politicians,
like Middleton, in Avhose breasts the love of hereditary
monarchy and the love of the Established Church had suffered
a divorce through the continued misrule of the king. The
letters of Anne, who was the most outspoken enemy of the
Prince of Wales, have been preserved ; the letters of Mary
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 301
have, in many instances, and in tbeir autograph form, perished.
Her husband destroyed them from a wish, on the part of the
writer, that posterity should believe that Loudon, and not the
Hague, had been the source of this feeling against the heir
male.*
It is just because we know so little of Mary's personal
feelings, and of her secret motives during the crisis, that we so
greatly value Countess Bentinck's collection. Among the
family papers at Middacliten she has found a series of letters and
meditations by Queen Mary, the latter of which were penned
when William had put to sea, prepared to dispossess her infant
brother of an inheritance, and the king her father of his throne.
Till their appearance no one suspected Mary of any of the
literary talent of her father, grandfather, and great-grand-
father; but we see no reason to doubt the authenticity of
documents which came into the possession of a personal friend
of their royal author — viz. of Sophia Aldenbourg, the heiress of
Middacliten, and the Avife of a son of the Earl of Portland by his
second marriage. Some of these pieces are identical with papers
already cited by Burnet and Dalrymple, and this circumstance
would seem to vouch for the authenticity of the rest of a
collection which is, alike from the psychological and from the
historical point of view, eminently valuable.f In his ' Curiosities
* of Literature ' Isaac Disraeli devoted several pages to the
personality of Mary. Her double nature and her circum-
stances fascinated him, and we can only regret that a man so
fitted to enjoy the niceties of historic research should not have
lived to recognise this Janus-faced princess as painted by her-
self — now smiling, and apparently at ease, now breathing out
in her closet the uneasiness of a ' heart that is ready to break.'
Countess Bentinck has edited on Grimblot's plan : she simply
* ' I beg the king to burn this, and my other papers : ' Meditations
of Queen Mary. Kensington : August 1691.
t On November 4, 1687, just one year before the landing o£
"William at Torbay, James II. addressed to his daughter Mary a very
curious paper containing his reasons for changing his religion. On
December 26 the princess answered this communication by a fervent
and well-reasoned statement of the reasons of her own adherence to
the Protestant faith. She showed this letter to Burnet, who records
it, as he alleges from memory, in his ' History of his own Times.'
Countess Bentinck now publishes copies of both these letters. That
of the princess is almost identical with the record of it in Burnet,
which proves either that he had extraordinary powers of memory, or
that he had made a note of its contents. But the fact is curious,
because it attests the authenticity of the documents now published.
302 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
copies the letters, and so leaves the reader to draw his own
conclusions. There is an austere and yet passionate tone about
these meditations which cannot fail to communicate itself to
those who peruse them. We here gauge the depth of Mary's
love for her husband, of her 2:rief at beino- a childless wife, and
of her zeal for her Church and faith. She shows herself often as
diffident and anxious, but no trace appears of any misgiving as
to the rightfulness of her cause. AVe have no such coarse or
cruel words from her as we possess from the Princess Anne's
pen; yet she felt that the conjuncture Avas awful, and that
if they failed now, her own and her adopted country must
be alike obliterated from the map of European politics. With
regard to the Church of England, she loved it, and the king,
her father, had recently boasted to her husband that ' in two
' years' time the body called the Church of England would not
'have a being.' That the Prince and Princess of Orange had
in their minds ' a mixed consideration for the public and for
' themselves ' no one denies, but Mary certainly was ambitious
rather for her husband than for herself. For him she hoped,
for him she prayed, and through her assistance she did hope
to buy an increased measure of his affection, of that love
which was to be her recompense and crown. She was able
to overlook all other considerations in the interests of her
creed and her husband, and it only remains to be wished that
those interests had been less glaringly and intimately her own.
No event in human life, hoAvever, stands alone ; it is rather
as the harvest of seeds long since planted, as the fruit of a tree
long and carefully trained in a given direction. History is,
when rightly read, the story of human passions, and this, which
is especially the history of a woman's heart, becomes, when clearly
understood, one of no common subtlety. When the crisis of 1688
came upon Mary, it found her duly prepared to meet it, and
to look at it only through the prince's eyes.
The child of James, Duke of York, and of Anne Hyde,
she was born in England, and before her parents had forgotten
how, in spite of family remonstrances, they had met, loved,
and wedded. She had a pleasing person, gentle manners, a
tolerable education, and a docile if not a sensitive nature.
Her sister Anne, her junior only by two years, was every way
her inferior ; but the two girls grew up together at Richmond,
where their playfellows were Anne Trelawney, Sarah Jen-
nings, and those daughters of their governess. Lady Frances
Villiers, of whom in later years Mary was fated to see so
much. Anne Hyde died, and we have it on her husband's
authority that she did so in the communion of the Church of
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 303
Rome, but the childless King Charles II., who looked upon
these girls as his heirs, did not remove them from, their father's
care till a year later, when he had contracted a second mar-
riage with a bride who was a Roman Catholic and an Italian,
chosen by Louis XIV. from among the grand-nieces of Cardinal
Mazarin. Princess Mary of England was confirmed at fifteen
years of age, and then made her first appearance in public at
a great dinner at the Guildhall, Avhen she sat beside the king,
her uncle. She was now a toast and an heiress, and suitors
began to appear. Her father, again acted upon by French
prompters, wished to marry her to the dauphin, but here
Charles was firm, and he betrothed her to her cousin, than
which no match could well have been less acceptable at Ver-
sailles.
William of Orange-Nassau, the son of William the Second
and of Mary Stuart, though not yet the hero of the Treaty
of Nimeguen, was, however, no ordinary suitor. Born only
a few hours after his father's murder, his hold of life had
seemed to be then most precarious, and at the Palace in the
Wood his mother reared with difficulty this delicate, asthmatic,
and prematurely thouglitful child. When herself compara-
tively a young woman, she was carried off by the smallpox :
the same disease which some years later must have proved
fatal to her son had he not had the devoted care of his friend
and comrade, Hans Willem, Sieur de Bentinck. If the death
of William had occurred then, it would have left the coast
clear for the republican party ; but he recovered, and re-
covered to realise how doubtful it was whether the son of Wil-
liam the Second would ever be allowed to wear a European
crown. The nobles of Holland were powerful; the memory
of De Witt was fresh, and French intrigues were at work : but
William had loyal supporters, and Charles II. was staunch to
his nephew's interests. When Sir W. Temple first came to
speak of a marriage with the king's eldest niece, Bentinck
at once saw the value of such an alliance. William, though
alive to its importance, was of an obstinate nature, a man
to take no step that was pointed out to him unless he might
at least appear to have chosen it for himself. He said that,
though he had often thought of her, he must go to England,
and both see and love his cousin before he affianced him-
self to her. The cousins met, and Mary was married on her
birthday, November 4, 1677. The English public was en-
chanted, and it is certain that in the whole course of his reign
Charles never did anything so thoroughly popular as his promo-
tion of this marriage.
304 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
That the French king should be furious at it surprised no
one, least of all the bridegroom, with whom he had already,
so to speak, measured swords. But the Duke of York was
equally ill pleased. Princess Anne nicknamed her brother-
in-law ' Caliban,' and only the Duchess of York was propi-
tious, and called the newly married pair, ' Orange and Lemon.'
Hardly had the ring been placed on Mary's finger when an
event occurred which might account for all the gloom and
taciturnity of her young husband. The Duchess of York was
delivered of a son, and thus when the bride landed at the
Hague she had virtually ceased to be the presumptive heiress
to the English crown. Here was a lesson on the vanity of
human Avishes. The little Duke of Cambridge only lived, it
is true, for ten days, but still he breathed long enough to over-
cloud the honeymoon, and to spoil the prestige of Mary's
landing in Holland. Three of the Villiers young ladies ac-
companied her : Mary, who was afterwards Lady Inchiquin ;
Anne, who bestowed herself on Bentinck, but did not live to be
Countess of Portland ; and Elizabeth, the one who, as their
years of childless matrimony rolled on, contrived in some
measure to separate the prince from her royal mistress. The
spiritual guides of the princess's youth. Dr. Lake and Dr.
Doughty, remained in England, but at the Hague Dr. Lloyd
acted as her chaplain till he was replaced by Ken and Hooper,
men well fitted to do honour to the Church of England in a
foreign land, while they fostered a love for her in the breast of
a princess who was born an Englishwoman.
The death of King Charles did not occur till after Marv
had received visits in her watery dominions from her sister,
and from the Duke and Duchess of York. James did not
at that time make any attempt to convert his daughter to the
Romish faith, but as it was said in Holland that he had
only been sent over there to keep him out of mischief in
England, his accession to the throne in 1685 naturally ex-
cited much attention at the Hague. There Monmouth was
already popular among the Dutch. To the credit of William
and Mary, it must be said that in thematter of Monmouth's re-
bellion they were consistently loyal to King James. How far
William was selfishly determined to acknowledge no marriage
between Lucy Waters and the late king does not appear.
This consideration may have weighed with him, but the Dutch
as a nation knew and liked Monmouth, who had lived a o-ood
deal among them, and who was at least a good Protestant, if
but a weak and a foolhardy young man. It would, on the
other hand, have been very awkward for King James if by
1882. Tlie Fall of the House of Stuart. 305
any misadventure these two Protestant aspirants to his throne
had met to coalesce, and so when William offered to recon-
duct in person the three Scottish regiments quartered at
the Hague which the king had summoned home, James re-
fused the polite offer. It was impossible for the sovereign not
to connect it in his own mind with a recent visit of Ben-
tinck's to this country, when the chief friends of the Pro-
testant succession whom he consulted had ' hoped that the
* Prince of Orange would come over and show himself.'
At the close of Monmouth's rebellion James found himself
restored to much of his original popularity. But he did not
know how to keep the goodwill of his people, and daily ex-
hibitions of his selfwill soon came to rouse the fears and
irritations of the national party. Men began to draw off into
two camps, according as they looked for preferment from the
courts of Versailles and St. James, or as they deprecated for
their country that policy of ' Popery and wooden shoes,' which
has become a byword in England. Count Kaunitz reported
to the emperor :—
* The split grows wider and wider. The statutes really exclude
Catholics from offices of State, and yet King James confers office by
preference on Catholics. The king, who has not kept his word with
his people, will not keep it. He chooses to act on the principle
hceretico nan est habenda fides. His Majesty has great confidence in
Father Petre of the Company of Jesus ; and both Catholics and Pro-
testants complain of this man. The succession to the throne, like
everything else here, remains in uncertainty. . . . There are troubles
in' Ireland. ... In all these things the French King has plainly a
hand.'
The hand of Louis XIV. was at this moment, "so to speak, a
red one. He had revoked the Edict of Nantes, and declared
a determination to make an end of heresy within fair France.
He told James that his new edicts * would meet with the less
' opposition as conversions were general, and as few, in the
' face of his royal proclamation, would be so stiff-necked as
* to continue in error.' Those who did so had his dragoons
quartered on them, and Louis took a vindictive pleasure
in desiring that a special example should be made of the
principality of Orange. The title of Prince of Orange came
first into the family of Nassau by the marriage of one of the
descendants of Adolf of Nassau with Claude of Orange-
Chalons, the heiress of a family which, in the palmy days of
the Princes of Baux and Orange, had been among the
greatest of those who ruled in the valley of the Rhone. It
was still a goodly heritage, and Mary wrote to her father to
306 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
beg of him to intercede with the King of France in behalf of
their sorely persecuted subjects in Orange. This was, she
said, the only favour that she had ever asked from the king
her father ; but James either would not adopt her cause, or else
Louis tacitly disregarded a piece of feeble interference with
his policy. In truth the King of England had matter enough
to occupy him at home without making himself the champion
of the woes of Orange. ' The king,' wrote Kaunitz, ' post-
' pones the summoning together of his parliament.' What the
king really meditated was the repeal of those penal statutes
which kept Catholics at a disadvantage, and reserved office
and its emoluments for members of the Church of England
only. Before altering these laws, or tampering with their
administration, arbitrary dealings with the judges would be
necessary, and it is startling to remember that in three and a
half years James made thirteen judges feel their dependence
on ' the king's pleasure.' Then came the question of the Dis-
senters. If the gate -was to be set wide enough to allow
Catholics to enter, Quakers and Anabaptists could not be left
outside ; thus James in coquetting with the Dissenters exhi-
bited the curious spectacle of a ruler who had for his two
advisers William Penn and Edward Petre. He even sent
Penn to the Hague to coax Mary into taking a favourable
view of his proposed measure of toleration ; but the embassy
only bore this fruit, that the Quaker returned charged with
a request from the Prince that his Majesty * would con-
* sider the propriety of making a more suitable allowance to
* his eldest daughter,' 5,000Z. a year being the sum which her
husband named as not excessive for the heiress of England. To
this James replied, that before making such an allowance he
should require to be perfectly sure that the money w^ould not
be used against himself — a reply which shows that confidence
no longer marked the relations between these royal persons. A
Dutch emissary was even now in London, and could James
have glanced into Dykevelt's despatches, he would have been
still more determined to keep his 45,000/. on his own side of
the German Ocean. Dykevelt wrote to the prince that
* the English were disaffected, but that though disaffected, it
* did not follow that they were prepared to welcome a foreign
* ruler.' A republic, such as Algernon Sidney and William
Russell had dreamed of, was even now possible, and this was
much to be deprecated, both for its effect on the prince's own
position in Holland, where republican sympathies were by no
means dead, and for its general effect in Europe.
While Dykevelt's mission in England cheered the spirits of
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 307
the national party, It also happened that some of the victims of
their fanaticism had become as whips to scourge the two kings
who tortured Covenanters in Scotland with boot and screws,
or quartered upon the Huguenots of Languedoc De Baville's
terrible dragoons. In 1684, Sir Patrick Hume and his family
fled to Rotterdam, where the Prince of Orange welcomed them
cordially, and gave the men of this persecuted house commissions
in his guard. At the Hague too might be found the pasteurs
Claude and Chambrun, along with Bayle, Jurien, Dubosc, and
De Bostaquet, and many more who by their talents, their
sufferings, and indeed by their very presence, inflamed the na-
tional fear of France and of Popery. In England Huguenot
refugees without number pointed the same moral, and adorned
the same tale. Colonies of such exiles were already formed in
Canterbury^ in Peterborough, in Axholme, and in Spitalfields.
London Avas full of them. There were the Dupuis from Nor-
mandy, the Venables from Dieppe, and the Portals from Tou-
louse, all living exponents of the policy which King James
supported, and under which, as Sarah Jennings bluntly re-
marked, 'everybody would be ruined who was not a Papist.'
But there was another adversary, of whose tactics James and
Louis w^ere both cognisant, an enemy whom they had never been
able to silence or cajole, and whose animosity they returned in
full. This was Grilbert Burnet. Writing about him to
Barillon the Grand Monarque did not hesitate to say : —
* As to Dr. Burnet, I am already advised that lie has left nothing to
add to the insolence with which he writes against the king his master,
and I have ordered the Sieur de Corissy to assure Skelton from me
that whoever shall undertake his abduction in Holland will find not
only a safe retreat in my kingdom, but my entire protection, and also all
the help he can desire for having the rascal safely conducted into Eng-
land. — Versailles, January 1688.'
In this way it will be seen that when the year 1688 opened,
every national and every personal passion had been stirred.
On New Year's Day, Queen Mary Beatrice announced a
pregnancy. This was all that was required to set a light to
the very combustible materials already collected in England
and at the Hague.
NoAv, in the nineteenth century, and when the lapse of two
hundred years has calmed the tempers of men. Englishmen have
no doubt whatever of the genuine birth of the Prince of Wales.
It is necessary, however, as the late Mr, Hill Burton so judi-
ciously remarked, 'for the right understanding of the spirit
* of the Revolution, to realise that the bulk of the English
* and Scots population, high and low, believed the child to be
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVIII. Y
308 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
* spurious.' His birth was so conspicuously a boon to the
Bomanising party that it instantly awoke the suspicion that it
had not been honestly gained. The four children Avhom the
queen had already brought into the world and buried, were by
this time forgotten dust ; still, as she had not been a childless
wife, there was no reason why after ten years she should not
again become a mother. The whole history of her hopes, fears,
dangers, and delivery is to be found in Terriesi's despatches.
Had * the population high and low ' had access to those written
in the summer and autumn of 1687, they would have been still
more jealously persuaded that ' an unnatural conspiracy ' was
on foot. The queen was advised not only to go to Bath for
the waters, but the royal pair were to drink of St. Winifred's
wonder-working Avell ; and a miracle was hinted at by their
spiritual guides. They did carry out this programme, and then
they returned ; the queen to hope and pray, the king to hunt
and revicAv his troops. Inspired by dreams of a Catholic suc-
cession he proceeded also to draw up that Act of Indulgence
which should remove Catholic disabilities, and break down bar-
riers which the foresight of our ancestors had erected against
the influence in this realm of any foreign priest, prince, or
potentate.
Stefano Terriesi, more in the secret than anyone, wrote
home that the king and queen were beseeching God ' to give
' through the birth of a Prince of Waills a root to the Catholic
* religion as planted in this realm ; without which the Catholic
* religion remains exposed to being crushed by a Protestant
' succession.' In November 1687, he was able to report that
the health of the queen was vigorous, and that a pregnancy had
really commenced. On New Year's Day we know that the fact
was publicly announced; and by January 10th, Terriesi says
that prayers were made in the London churches for the queen's
safety : but he hints that ' tanta malizia vi si oppose.' Neither,
he adds, can he ' express the passion into which the Princess
' of Denmark has put herself, which she cannot hide ; while
* seeing that the Catholic rehgion is by this advanced, she affects
' more than ever, both in public and in private, to be the most
' zealous of Protestants.' Anne's letters to her sister as re-
corded by Dairy mple, and as copied from the MSS. in the Ben-
tinck-Aldenbourg archives at Middachten, fully bear out Ter-
riesi's description of her ' passion.' In fact, they are so coarse
and so cruel that the Countess Bentinck has gracefully sup-
pressed some of the most unwomanly of the expressions and
innuendoes of a writer who was determined to calumniate
(even before its appearance) any male heir to the crown.
1882. The lb all of the House of Stuart. 309
Anne frankly wrote to her sister that * no one will believe in
* the queen's state, or in the birth being anythino; but a feint
* unless it turns out to be a girl.' This remark was not
logical ; all the less so as the last child born to Mary Beatrice
had been a boy, that little Duke of Cambridge who lived for
ten inopportune days. However, in Anne's case the wish was
father to the thought, and therefore to the reasonino-, and it
says something for the forbearance of her royal father that he
did not, during all these months of suspense, show any dis-
pleasure or disfavour to a daughter so intent on calumniatino-
him. Anne was herself near the crisis of bearing that son who
alone of her prodigious family lived beyond infancy. She
had, therefore, cause for hope that after the lives of her elder
sister and of herself the succession might devolve upon her
offspring. But how to adjust this critical affair was the
question ; and it is certain that but for the blind self-will of
the king and of his fanatical advisers, his two daughters mio-ht
have found the task of altering the succession a much more
difficult one than it proved. Their antagonists scorned all
those dictates of common prudence which might have been of
use to their cause. By April the king, as Terriesi reports,
complained of the pasquinades circulated at his expense, but
all the arrangements were made by the queen for her lyino--ia
at Windsor.
If any evidence about her state were required, it might be
found in Terriesi's letter of May 21, 1688 : —
' Her Majesty the Queen had a great fright on Wednesday niglit.
It was caused by that ill-bred or malicious waiting-woman {viaV accorta
maliziosa) named Mistress Bromley, who, the day before, had been
present when the courier from Italy arrived, and who gives her as a
piece of news the death of her brother the Duke of Modena. . . .
The complaint from which he suffered was well knoAvn to her Majesty,
as the same from which their father had died at the age of twenty-
eight, and therefore, though she had advices to the contrary, this could
not but give her a great shock. It happened also that Konchi, the
chaplain of her Majesty, sent for her perusal a letter Avhich described,
it is true, the duke's recovery, yet did open by describing all the fear
which the illness occasioned ; so much so that her Majesty, reading only
its first lines, with a mind all preoccupied by the sad intelligence reported
to her, let the letter fall out of her hand, and fainted away. The
Nunzio was summoned, restoratives were applied, and the next day
was got through pretty well ; but on the following there was every
appearance of a premature delivery, "We dispatched a messenger to
the king, who was at Chatham, and sent a carriage to Gravesend, so as
to bring his Majesty with the utmost haste. About eleven at night
the queen, by the help of remedies, was so much better that we dis-
patched another messenger : but neither the one nor the other reached
310 The Fall of the House of Stuart. Aprils,
the king. The carriage, however, reached Gravesend, and there learn-t
the whereabouts of the king. One of the coachmen unharnessed «
horse, and rode off to give the tidings to liis Majesty. He then jumped
into the carriage of a gentleman which was there, and so, with one
footman, came up to town by nine o'clock of yesterday morning. He
found the queen in fairly good case.' *
Of this fright Princess Aune can hardly have been ignorant,
yet she is not candid enough to note its details or to let then^
■weigh with her. They suffice, however, to explain Terriesi's
next report about the invalid. The Court had fixed to go to the
' soggiorno di Windsor ' on June 25, and the household for the-
child had been gazetted. But on June 4 the queen got a chilly
was feverish, and was bled, and having had already one serious-
alarm, she now lost her courage about the journey down to^
Windsor, and hastily caused all needful preparations to be
made at St. James's. The poor lady, so worried and so slan-
dered, was now, Terriesi remarks, ' massimamente e estrema-
' mente grossa,' and on June 10, and after a labour of two^
hours, she brought to light ' un vigoroso Principe di Wales.'
The Tuscan envoy closes his despatch by sending to his master
a copy of the royal proclamation, which, in announcing the
birth of an heir to the throne, ordered a public thanksgiving
to be made in all the churches. The appropriate form was to
be drawn up by the Bishop of Rochester.
Never was the bench of bishops less attuned to a strain of
thanksgiving. Only two days before the prince was born did
the gates of the To-wer close upon the seven bishops who had
refused to read the Declaration of Indulgence. All the efforts
of King James in that direction had long been distasteful to the
clergy of the Established Church, and the great Nonconformists
had nobly supported the Church in defending the fundamental
laAvs of the realm. In Scotland the bait of indulgence was
also refused. The Covenanters were too shrewd to believe in
a permanent charter of liberty coming under the auspices of"
the Jesuits, or as a mere act of despotic authority. Liberty
so bestowed might vanish as it had come. By the whole
Protestant body therefore was the conduct of those prelates
who had declined to read the Declaration rapturously extolled,
Baxter from his pulpit pronounced their eulogium, and Citter&
wrote that day to the Prince and Princess of Orange that the
Nonconformists preferred to live under the old persecuting
statutes rather than play into the hands of Father Petre by
separating their cause from the prelates. To Archbishop
• Medici Archives, F, 4245.
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. . 311
Sancroffc the princess wrote, saying that * she took a deeper
■* interest in the Church of England than in herself.' Whether
this was true or not, it is certain that the stupid tyranny of
the king towards the Church could not but increase the value
•of herself and her husband in the eyes of the English clergy
and laity, just as it had newly brought about a good under-
standing between the Church and the bodies of Dissenters,
whom Terriesi classifies under one head as ' fanatici.'
The crisis had now been reached; both north and south
of the Tweed the government of the king was hated, and this
outrage on a Church which had adhered to the monarchy
■during the Rebellion, roused the nation so effectually that, as a
vast and compact mass, it reared itself against James and
liis advisers. At such a moment his extraordinary want of
prudence was fatal to him. It was through his heir that he
could be attacked, and yet this was the very point Avhich he
left open to every hostile critic. Angry tongues made busy
with the details of the little prince's birth, in the management
of which more blunders were certainly made than are incident
(and that is not admitting little) in all human affairs. The
queen, it was averred by some, had never really been preg-
nant; it was to serve her private ends that she had been
-confined at St, James's, and not at Windsor ; she had, even
at St. James's, occupied another bed than the one prepared
for her ; the Princess Anne had not been present ; the Dutch
ambassador was absent ; the Archbishop of Canterbury and
the Hydes had not been summoned ; the child was really that
of a Miss Grrey ; he was a bastard foisted upon the English
by Louis XIV., whose own parentage was doubtful; the Pope
was his godfather ; the king had recently been visiting his
arsenals, with the intention of attacking the Dutch in the
spring ; and Lord Thomas Howard was now to be sent on an
extraordinary mission to Rome, to convey to his Holiness fresh
assurances of devotion, and to thank him for those prayers
which had helped to give a Catholic heir to the throne.
The child in the meantime was healthy. The Venetian
resident wrote home to the Doge Morosini that he had seen
the little prince, * di colore vivo, voce gagliarda, ed occhio
* allegro.' Barillon, of course, saw it frequently, and did not
forget either to report to Louis the bonfires with which its
birth had been celebrated in London. Such rejoicings must
have been of a strictly official character, and were therefore
about as sincere as those congratulations which Zulestein duly
.arrived to deliver in the name of the Prince and Princess of
Orange. The Austrian minister was in the meantime one of
312 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
those outsiders who proverbially see so much of the game.
The despatch of Hoffmann of July 9, 1688, deserves to be
quoted : —
' Most Gracious Emperor, King and Master, on Friday last, •when
the Dutch araljassador remitted to his ]\Iajesty the answer of the States-
General to tlie English note which relates to the birth of a royal prince,
he, in his compliment, dwelt upon the difficulties actually existing be-
tween England and Holland, and he said that although his Majesty had
received some painful impressions from the acts attributed to his supe-
riors, yet he covild assure him that they had never really given cause lor
this, having at all times a particular respect for the person of his Majesty.
That they could net prevent some brouillons having given to his
Majesty an incorrect report of their conduct, and they were not
ignorant that some one [meaning the Marquis d'Albeville] had assured
his Majesty that they meant with their fleet to effect a descent upon
England. But his Majesty might see for himself that this was false, and
that it was much removed from probability that they should, with
the insignificant number of equipped vessels which they had, attempt
such a difficult enterprise.'
This reasoning, though specious, was not exactly reassuring,
and the Dutchman soon passed adroitly from self- vindication
to accusation : —
'His Majesty, it was said, had allowed himself to be persuaded, and
had, so rumour ran, accepted French succours. , . . The king, in
reply, among other things, said that it was true that France had offered
him succour, but that he hoped not to be obliged to have recourse to
it. On this the ambassador replied that an offer of help there was
more ostentatious than friendly on the part of France, who did it
to show how far they were at one, and so make his Majesty sus-
pected by his own people. In this way it must do him more harm
than good. The king answered that he could not say what might have
been the motive of France, but he took the offer as one meant in good
fellowship, and that, having no reason to act otherwise, he sought to
live in good intelligence with France as with other countries. Here,
Most Gracious Lord, is what the Dutch ambassador has communicated
to me, and he thinks that the dark clouds of misunderstanding are
beginning to clear away, and that there is nothing fco fear from the
threatened junction of the French and English fleets. Last Sunday
Milord Sunderland, President of the Council and Secretary of State,
declared himself a Catholic before the whole Privy Council, admitting
that he had been one for the last two years. This declaiation has, no
doubt, been kept back on purpose till now, so as to be an example to
others, and to show that as there is now a Catholic heir to the throne
the time is come Avlien men may declare themselves without fear. . . .
The day before yesterday the usual camp was formed between London
and Windsor. It will be composed of from 7,000 to 8,000 men. . , .
De Zulestein has arrived, sent by the Duke of Orange to offer his
congratulations on the birth of the prince, and the Comte de Gram-
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 313
mont is expected to arrive from France, on the same errand. . . , As
to-day is the term assigned for the trial of the bishops, they appeared
before the tribunaL The pleading lasted four hours ; but as the busi-
ness could not be finished, it has been deferred till to-morro^v^.' *
Terriesi's narrative, as he takes it up at this point, is posi-
tively humorous. He did not Avrite till July 12. By that
time the verdict was known. He says one of the spectators
of the trial told the populace to be glad indeed, since here was
a cordial against that great affliction which they lay under in
the birth of a Prince of Wales. ' The noise of bells, the firing
' of guns, and the like public demonstrations of pleasure have
' for surpassed anything that was ever done for his birth ;
* among other stravaganze one saAv soldiers throwing down
' their arms, drinking to the health of the bishops, and con-
' fusion to the Pope,' But he goes on slyly to hope ' that by
* one means or another these bishops may not escape the
* punishments of justice.'
Punishment was indeed close at hand, but it was not for
Sancroft and his fellow-sufferers. It was for a king beset
with false counsellors and faithless friends, who ruled with an
Ecclesiastical Commission and without a free and regular Par-
liament, who removed the judges at his pleasure, and now
threatened the very existence of an Established Church, * pure
' in its doctrines, irreproachable in its order, and beautiful in
' its forms ' f — a constituent and most wholesome part of that
English Constitution which he was doing his utmost to sub-
vert. While James thus prepared his own destruction, and
his infant son struggled through a variety of infantile maladies,
the shipwrights of Holland hurried to their tasks. There, under
the anxious bidding of William, who, after years of feeling that
the game of politics is a game of waiting, was now determined
to strike, they added daily to that ' insignificant number of
' vessels ' of which their ambassador had spoken so sooth-
ingly, but Avhich was none the less able to convey a Protestant
army to the English shore. Midsummer there was passed
in parleys Avith Sancroft, and in appeals to a national party
which long descried in Petre 'the evil spirit that walketh
' between a good master and a loyal people.' % Petre was dis-
missed, but it was too late. James, blind and deaf to advice
or remonstrance while he was still powerful, was astonished
when the natural results of his policy arrived in their due
course, and when his promises failed to stir either belief or hope
* K. K. Archives. f Southey's ' Book of the Church.'
% Letter of the Duke of Buckingham. Sloane MSS.
314 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
in the heart of the nation. The Church of Avhich James was
the agent recedes, men averred, only in order to make a surer
spring. She may appear to give way, but she never really yields
(because she feels that she ought not to yield) anything of her
pride or of her intolerance. The English clergy were equally
prepared, on their part, not to surrender. It was a critical
moment in the history of their Church, for they realised that
to fall now was never to rise again, to forfeit the most dearly
bought privileges, and to overthrow for ever the goodly fabric
of Church government as established in England. At the same
time nothing could be more steady, respectful, and peaceful
than their opposition, and, firm as was their attitude, it is just
possible that they might not have been able unassisted to stop
the growth of encroachments on the part of the Crown. The axe
that was to cut down that overgrown tree owed its sharp edge to
the ambition of William, and to his fear of a possible co-opera-
tion between the French and the English fleets. Louis had
been made, in the League of Augsburg, to feel all the power
and all the statecraft of William of Orange. He still smarted
under the recollection of it, and as he was certain, sooner or
later, to revenge himself, it was a question whether the Prince
of Orange would not do Avell to anticipate a visit from such
.combined fleets, and to make an immediate descent upon Eng-
land. From Shrewsbury and from Churchill he learnt how
ripe their country was for revolution, and how inconsistent was
the Romanising element with the liberties of England. For
many weeks William contrived to keep his own secret, but
though Segnelay could write from Versailles ' that there was
' no appearance that the Prince of Orange Avill attemyjt any-
' thing against England this year,' others were better informed.
Hoftmann Avrites from London, September 3, 1688 : —
* Since my last letter the fears on account of a Dutch fleet not only
<5ontinue but have augmented. It has got wind that nearly 1,000
saddles have been embarked. The king is in council, so to speak,
daily. . , . Yesterday the Marquis d'Albeville, who arrived here from
Holland about ten days ago, was hastily dispatched to the Hague : no
doubt to obtain an explanation. . . . What causes a certain surprise
is that, when people here show so much alarm, nothing more is heard
of those sixteen ships which France once offered to send as help, and
upon which apparently such hopes were built.'
LTp to October 1 1 HoiFmann was still in doujbt : —
' Since my last letter there are no news from Holland. Persuaded,
however, of the hostile invasion intended, all possible preparations for
defence are made here. In a new proclamation to-day the king
announced to his people a threatening invasion, and implored them
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 315
to lay aside all jealousies and animosities in the face of a common
danger, as he had refused all foreign succour, and leant solely on the
courage and tried fidelity of his people. . . . The king has replaced the
Bishop of London, till now suspended from his functions. While on
the part of the Prince of Orange it is argued that the sole aim of this
prince is the preservation of the Protestant religion, and the establish-
ment of a free Parliament, people are none the less persuaded that his
ambition Avill not stop there, but that he will seek to gratify his longing
to reign by attacking the birth of the Prince of "Wales, or by having
him educated in the Protestant religion. If this were to happen there
can be no doubt but that in the face of his enemies a large part of the
nation would side with the king, and it follows that a long and bloody
war would be the result. . , . Within the last few days, Avhether the
Prince of Orange comes or does not come, the whole constitution, from
the religious alike as from the pohtical point of view, has been changed.
One sees better e\ery day, and when it is too late, how France has
deceived us, and how all her protestations of friendship were but a
lure.'
Pass we now to the Hague. The position of Mary there
was hardly to be envied. Her sister, to work upon her most
intimate feelings, wrote to her of plots against the life of the
Prince of Orange, and plied her with reports against the heir,
of whom she alternately wrote that * it may be that it is our
*l3rother,' and that 'it is a comfort that all the people in
' England asserted that it was an impostor.' Mary at first
refused to act upon this idea, and prayers were duly made at
the Hague for the son of the King of England. Presently,
however, it became known at St. James's that these prayers had
ceased, and then, as Hoffmann writes, ' great exasperation was
' felt about this attempt to prove the birth doubtful, Avhich
* must have the most pernicious consequences.' The king
wrote to his eldest daughter and complained of the omission.
Whatever at that moment may have been Mary's personal
feelings, she had either not made up her mind, or she had not
tTie courage of her opinions. Taking an evasive course, she
weakly excused herself by saying that the prayers * had only
'■ sometimes bin forgot ; ' but the mother of the little child was
determined to clear up the situation. She wrote herself: —
' September 28, 1688.
' I am much troubled what to say at a time when nothing is talked about
but the Prince of Orange coming over with an army. This has been
said for a long time, and believed by a great many ; but I do protest to
you that I never did believe it till now very lately, and that I have
no more possibility left for doubting it. The second part of the news
I never will believe — that you are to come over with him — for I know
you to be too good. I do not believe you would have such a thought
against the worst of fathers, much less to perform it against the best,
316 The Fall of the House of Stuart. ' April,
■who has always been good to you, and I believe has loved you the
best of any of his children.'
This must have been a painful letter to receive ; but
even more cutting were the words of the king, Avhen he
in his turn wrote to her about ' the concern she must have
* for a husband and a father.' Concerned Mary truly was ;
in fact, Burnet noticed ' that she had a great Aveight on her
* spirits,' but he adds that she had * no scruple as to the
' lawfulness of the design.' If she was ever visited by any
misgivings, or dropped any natural tears for the father who so
entreated her, Ave may be sure that Burnet Aviped them aAvay.
He could at any time have made the worse appear the better
cause, had that been necessary, and as for this cause he had it
so entirely at heart that many filial tears Avould not have
softened his heart tOAvards the bigoted king. He worked in-
cessantly upon Mary's feelings, and not by mere threats of an
assassination Avhich Avould repeat the fate of William the
Silent, but by an argument AA'hich appealed to her more
directly. He told, her that if, through her generosity, the
prince acquired the croAvn of a reigning sovereign, he Avould
certahily award to her in return a double share of the affec-
tion for Avhich she yearned. Mary, in her private con-
fessions, admits that she was in consequence ^ perplexed how
' to Avrite to her father, or hoAv to allude to the Prince of
* Yf ales.' Her nature had been rendered undemonstrative by
the taciturn and unyielding nature of a husband Avhose domi-
nant passion Avas ambition, and Avhose chilling gravity Burnet
now assured her arose solely from his uncertainty as to his
possible position in England. To gratify him then Avas really
to gratify herself; but none the less she exclaims, ' What I
* sutfer is not^o be expressed.' At length came the decisive
hour. The late October days had settled doAvn in all their
chilly gloom, and her hero, though suffering heavily from his
asthma, must sail. William came to take leave of her.
* He told me that in any difficulty I Avas to ask advice from the
Prince of Waldeck, the Pensionary Fagel, and M. Dyckvelt, upon
Avhom I might rely in everything. He further said to me that in case
it pleased God that he should never see me again (a Avord that pierced
my heart and gave me a shudder Avhich, at this hour of Avriting, has
hardly passed off) — if, he said, that were to happen, it Avould be neces-
sary for me to marry again. If the first Avord struck me cruelly, this one
struck me more, and made me feel as if my heart Avere cleft in tAvain.
** I do not require," he continued, " to tell you that it must not be
*' with a Papist." He himself could not pronounce this Avord Avithout
emotion, and shoAved me as much tenderness as I could desire : so that
for my life long I shall not forget it. But I Avas so amazed at the
1882. Tlte Fall of the House of Stuart. 317
proposition that I remained long without being able to reply. He
protested that only the concern he had for religion made him so
speak. I cannot recall what I said. The grief in which I was made
me answer confusedly, but I assured him that I had never loved and
never could love any one but him ; furthermore, that having been
married so many years without having been blest by God with a child,
I considered that enough to prevent my ever thinking of what he pro-
posed. I told him that I begged of God not to let me outlive him. . . .
Oh, my God ! if in this passion I have sinned, as I dread to have done,
pardon me, I pray. . . . We spoke of other matters ; I begged him to
forgive all my faults, and he answered me with a tenderness which, if
possible, must have made my love for him greater. On the 26th he
took me to dine with him at Honslardyck. After dinner I went to
the river with him. He had to cross it to go down to Briel. It was
there that I saw him for the last time : and God knows if we shall
ever meet. This thought is terrible. It deprived me for a time of my
senses. I remained immovable in my coach, and had no power to
tell them where to drive for as long as I could see the prince. I re-
turned that evening to the Hague, troubled, and in a grief un-
speakable, and without the support of God I should have been done
for. But praised, oh, my God ! be Thy great name, that I have still
not murmured against the economy of Thy providence, and I beg of
Thee, for the time to come, to preserve me Irom this, as from all wilful
sins. The day after the prince's departure (27th) a general fast was
observed in the land, and this so zealously that the Jews observed
it, and that the Spanish envoy had masses said for the happy
issue of this enterprise. Only the ambassador of France and M.
d'Albeville did not wish the same ! . . . Here in my house and family
I observe every Wednesday as a festival, a sermon is given, and every
morning suitable prayers are said. M. Chambrun says them in French
in the family. . . . The 19th, I learnt by letters from London that the
prince had landed in Torbay. . . . During the prince's absence every
one showed me an extraordinary friendship, particularly the States-
General, to whom the prince had recommended me. They begged me
to take care of my person, for fear of the malice of the Romish party.
Thank God I have got over the terror this awoke in me, and to which
I am naturally only too prone. I pass my time in public and private
devotions. Every morning I am present at the prayers (in French)
which are said in the house. At midday there is Common Prayers,
■ and at five I go to church for prayers, and to hear a sermon. At half-
past seven there is Common Prayers again. . . . But my enemy the
devil raises scruples and fears in my mind, apprehensions lest by all
these public devotions I draw to myself the praise of men, and that
this should raise my vanity. . . . For an entire month after the
prince's departure I saw no one. . . . Though I was long without
having letters from him, I had, however, God be praised, the consola-
tion of hearing from all the world, friends and foes, the success of the
enterprise ; and although I ought to have been terribly uneasy,
according to all human reason, yet was I, by the help of God, kept in
a sort of tranquillity that surprised myself, and made me fear it was a
318 The lull of the House of Stuart. April,
mark of stupidity. But the more I examine myself, the more reason
i have to bless my Creator for His infinite goodness to me, that I was
thus made to bear a burden far too heavy for Hesh and blood. ... I
admit, Iiowever, that the prince's last words, touching my marriage
and his death, had such a hold of my mind that I fancied they must
be in some measure prophetic, and this made me suffer more than I
can express. . . . On the 20th Madame Bentinck died, after a long
illness, and though she suffered much pain of body, yet the Lord had
great mercy on her soul, in that she had much time to prepare for
another world. . . . For more than a week previous to her death I
never came near her, but she told me how she felt, having offended
God by lack of resignation, since she could not be so with regard to
leaving so good a husband and five poor children, of whom the eldest
was not more than nine years old. She recommended them to me the
day before her death, and I promised all I could. I was with her
when she expired, and though she suffered for some space, yet she died
as softly as if she had only fallen on sleep. . . . When I heard that
the king had first sent off the queen with his supposed son, and had
then followed in person, I heard at the same time that an apothecary
of Paris had formed a plot on the life of the prince. . . . On De-
cember 30 came the news that the king's flight had been stopped. At
the same time the prince let me know that I ought to prepare for
going over to England. I cannot think without grief of leaving this
dear country where I have had much spiritual, as well as earthly,
happiness. I fear to sin in attaching my heart to it, and therefore
pray to God to give me all the resignation of mind and will that I
ought to possess. And thus, while waiting to learn what the king is
doing, and fearing to be sent for ever out of this country (though I
am languishing to meet the prince again), I close amid these diverse
expectancies the year 1G88, which, for tliis Avorld, has been a year of
•many strange events, and one also of special mercies and blessings from
God to my soul,- for the which I will magnify His name as long as I
have my being.'
While Mary, wife of William of Orange, penned these
grave lines, which strike us as not quite innocent of self-
satisfaction, another Avoinan, newly landed at Calais, sat in the
governor's house with her infant on her knee, and wrote this
letter to Louis XIV. : —
' Tuesday, December 11, 1689.
' Sire, — A poor fugitive queen, bathed in tears, has exposed herself
to the utmost perils of the sea in her distress, to seek for consolation
and an asylum from the greatest monarch in the world. Her evil
fortune procures her a happiness of which the greatest nations of the
world are ambitious. Her need of it diminishes not that feeling, since
she makes it her choice, and it is a mark of the greatness of her
esteem that she wishes to confide to him that which is most precious to
her in the person of the Prince of Wales, her son. He is as yet too
joung to unite with her in the grateful acknowledgments that fill my
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 319
heart, I feel with peculiar pleasure, in the midst of my griefs, that I
am now under your protection. In great affliction, I am, Sire,
* Your very obedient servant and sister,
' The Queen of England.'
The two lines of policy pursued by William and by James
have here reached their logical goals. The obstinacy of the
one has sent his Avife and child to seek the cover of a French
monarch's robe ; the ambition and prudence of the other have
placed in liis hand the sceptre of England. It is true that
till the offer of immediate and unquestioned monarchy had
been made to liim, the Dutch prince preserved a gloomy and
guarded silence. * Access to him,' said Sheffield, Duke of
Buckingham, ' was not very easy. He listened to all that
* was said, but seldom answered.' Not till the national con-
vention of Lords and Commons had settled the precedence
to his satisfaction was the princess summoned, and she was
then warned that as the Jacobite party represented her as
dissatisfied with the arrangements made, it rested with her to
give the lie to their Avords, and to prove her contentment of
mind. This warning led her to adopt a cheerfulness which she-
did not feel. The prince, she replied, must understand her
very little if he supposed that her personal ambition was greater
than her tenderness for him ; but, even Avith this key to her
conduct, her warmest admirers must admit that she gi'ossly
overdid her part. It is impossible to forget the account of her
conduct by a woman who was a warm sympathiser in the
Revolution, and a friend since childhood of the daughters of
James II. The Duchess of Marlborough published this nar-
rative : —
* I was one of those who had the honour to wait on her in her own.,
apartment. She ran about it, looking into every closet, and turning,
up the quilts upon the bed, as people do when they come to an inn,
Avith no other sort of concern in her appearance but such as they ex-
press; a behaviour Avhich, though at that time I was extremely
caressed by her, I thought ^vas strange and unbecoming. For what-
ever necessity there was for deposing King James, he Avas still her-
father, who had been so lately driven from that chamber and bed ;;
and if she felt no tenderness I thought she ought at least to have-
looked grave, and even pensively sad, at so melancholy a reverse of his-
fortune.'
In truth Mary did not dare to seem to play the critic on the
actions of a man Avho told her he ' would not hold on to the
' throne by her apron-strings ; ' but she Avas often sick at heart.
Perplexed by the double dealing of political partisans, nervous
for her husband's safety, and pardonably grieved at the un-
320 The Fall of the House of Stuart. April,
natural appearance of lier own conduct, she yet looked on
herself as an elect instrument in the hand of Providence. She
was also clever enough to understand, apart from all personal
considerations of loss or gain, of praise or of blame, that an
extraordinary event in the'history of Europe, of Protestantism,
and we might say of mankind, had just taken place at White-
hall. There was a conflict between absolute monarchy and the
liberty of nations, between superstition and freedom of thought,
between the bondage of the media; val system, and the manly,
regulated freedom of modern society. The one side as repre-
sented by Louis had just been defeated in the person of his too
subservient ally, King James ; the other side was represented
by the husband whom she admired as he deserved, and whom
she loved Avith no common devotion.
But if there ever was a picture of royal misery it is this : —
' 1 must see company on set days ; I must play once a week, nay,
I must laugh and talk, though never so much against my will. I be-
lieve I dissemble very ill to those who know me; at least it is a great
constraint to me, but I must endui'e it. All my motions are so
watched, and all I do so observed, that if I eat less, or speak less, or
look more grave, all is lost in the opinion o£ the world. ... I go to
Kensington as often as I can for air ; but there I never can be quite
alone : neither can I complain — that would be some ease ; but I have
nobody whose humour and circumstances agree with mine enough to
speak my mind freely to. . . .
' Luke ii. 13, " Thy prayer is heard, and thy wife Elizabeth shall
"bear a son." Those Avere the Avords of the angel to Zacharias;
Avords joyful in themselves, and of Avhich the fulfilment Avas still more
glad. Why, then, art thou cast doAvn, oh, my soul? knoAvest thou not
that the Lord doeth as He pleases in heaven and earth ? Not con-
sidering that the Lord is just, and as it is not His Avill to bless thee
Avith a child, thou must submit. He knoAvs Avhy He has so long Avith-
held this blessing, and knoAvs Avhy He contimies to deny it ; and I have
often thanked Him for this, that had the good Lord given me children, I
never could have borne, as I have borne, all that the Lord laid upon
me Avhen my husband crossed to England. ... I knoAV that the inten-
tions of my husband are all for the glory of God. . . . Hear me, oh
Lord ! hear Thy unAvorthy servant Avho prays for nothing but resigna-
tion and patience, courage and strength to bear all Thou sendest Avith
that submission Avhich is due to Thy Avill. ... I Avill never forego the
hope that of Thee Thy Church Avill be governed and preserved
(happen to me Avhat may), and I hope that my husband Avill continue
to serve as an instrument for doing Avell to Thy people. . . . God has
prepared me for Avhat I could not foresee, and by this means has
strengthened me, and made me more able to behave myself than, Avith-
out His grace preventing me, I could have been.'
All other considerations apart, it must have required strong
1882. The Fall of the House of Stuart. 321
nerves in a princess of that house, bearing the name of Mary-
Queen of Scots, to dare to occupy the throne of the Stuarts.
* If ever,' cried Voltaire, ' anything could justify belief in a
* fatality from which there is no escape, it ought to be that
' continued series of misfortunes which pursued the House of
' Stuart during three hundred years.' When James II. ab-
dicated they had not even then completed, "it is true, the full
tale of the reverses to which the French historian referred, but
the period of eighty-five years, a period not longer than the
lifetime of one aged Englishman, had already sufficed to show
a wonderful succession of merited and unmerited misfortunes,
during which they had shared a like succession of capable and
watchful foes, of evil counsellors, and of devoted, self-forgetting
friends. And if the critics of a later day pause ere they con-
demn the kings of the House of Stuart, it is less because of the
retributive punishments which overtook them in their head-
strong career than because of the many generous men and women
who feared not to prop a falling cause, and to follow a stricken
family into the bitterness of exile. Did our space allow us to
pursue, as Dr. Klopp has done, the whole story of their exclu-
sion from the succession, or to recount the adventures of the
two Pretenders, we should follow a long line of their parti-
sans in England and in Scotland. That their attempts all
failed, and that one by one both the princes and their followers
dropped into ruin and extinction, does not detract from the
interest of their lives or of their deaths. A strange fascination
still belongs to them, and Burns, the most advanced of Scotch
Liberals, in speaking of the Stuart kings, did not hesitate to
say, ' that to love them was the mark of a true heart.' But it
is deplorable that so much loyalty and so many sacrifices were
lavished on the woi'st princes who ever sate upon the British
throne.
322
Bosscttis Poems. April,
Art. II.— 1. Poems. By Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
London: 1870.
2. Ballads and Sonnets. By Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
London: 188L
I DO not know what poetical is,' says Audrey^ to Touch-
stone; 'is it honest in deed and word? is it a true
' thino- ? ' and herein Audrey, like her fantastic lover in an-
other^'scene of the play, spoke more wisely than she was aware
of, for the question is significant in regard to the permanent
interest and value of any contribution to the poetical literature
of a nation. For all poetry which retains a permanent hold
over succeeding generations of readers, and is by common con-
sent enshrined among the precious possessions of a national
Hterature, has been nourished upon the spontaneous feelings
and aspirations of its own age, and speaks without affectation,
though with more than common force and finish, the common
speech of its own time. It is only in the free and bracing
atmosphere of natural and healthy life that a strong and
healthful poetry can grow and spread her wings. Under such
conditions were the works of our great dramatist produced :
under such conditions the poetry of Chaucer remains as full of
life and interest at this moment as ever it was, in spite of the
draAvback of obsolete spelling and etymology. Not under such
conditions (if a negative example be wanted) was matured
the poetry of Spenser, who, as far as poetry was concerned,
shut up wathin an artificial world, has lost his hold on general
readers and become the property of students alone ; his stately
palace of verse being, like his own cave of Mammon, so clogged
and cobwebbed with affected archaisms and artificial fancies,
that it is only here and there that the gleam of the pure gold
of poetry can be discerned beneath them. Perhaps an illus-
tration more apposite to our present purpose may be found in
Sidney's ' Arcadia,' a work of imagination,^ though not in
verse, which appealed to the shortlived affectations and conceits
of a coterie, and died a natural death with the decease of
euphuism. An apposite illustration, because within the last
few years we have been witnessing a somewhat similar
development of artificial taste in art and in poetry alike — a
kind of modern euphuism ; like the original one, the adopted
fashion of a coterie. In picture galleries strange lank-haired
women writhe and twine, who are neither of this nor of any
world, but represent a nondescript ideal evolved from the inner
consciousness of those who produce them, acted upon more or
1882. Rossetti's Poems. 323
less by an affectation of archaism. In poetry we meet with
the counterpart of this affected art, displayed in the use of an
artificial diction in which language is twisted into the expres-
sion of far-fetched images and similes with a curiosa infelicitas
which suggests a repetition of the caution given to Pistol :
' If thou hast tidings, I pray thee deliver them like a man of
' this world.' In both the poetry and the painting of these
aesthetic separatists we trace some of the same mental
tendencies and characteristics. In the figures drawn, whether
with the pencil or the pen, we find a morbid preference for
forms that ' err from honest nature's rule,' forms destitute of
definite or typical human character, and which belong to a
world of dream-shadows, existing only in the painter's or the
poet's morbid imagination ; in both we find a languid sensuous
beauty taking the place of intellectual force of expression or
moral beauty of character. These visions belong to no world
of which healthy human nature has any experience ; they
are the artificial creations of an intellectual forcing-house, from
which fresh air and daylight are carefully excluded.
The causes which have produced this peculiar tendency in
recent art and literature we cannot here pause to consider too
curiously ; the consideration at least Avould lead us too far
afield from the immediate purpose of this article ; some certain
conclusions which are unavoidably suggested by the nature of
the movement referred to, and in part illustrated by some of
the poems immediately before us, may be touched upon as we
proceed. But one feature in connexion with the subject, one
of the secondary causes which have contributed to give to this
morbid growth in artistic fancy and expression an apparent
importance which it might not otherwise have attained, cannot
be passed over here. It is impossible for those who from an
independent station take note of the tone of contemporary
literature not to perceive that, along with this artificial
development in art and literature, there has sprung up an
equally artificial development in what is called contemporary
criticism. Like the manufacturer who boasted that he kept a
poet, the poets and painters of this esoteric sect keep a ring of
critics, the existence of a tacit understanding with whom has
become too palpable to be ignored, and is, in fact, displayed at
times with a frankness which it might have been supposed
would have defeated its own end, did we not know how careless
and ill-informed are the public of general readers in regard to
what is behind the scenes in so-called criticism, how indolentl}'-
prone to accept as truth what is repeatedly forced upon them
in journals which are supposed to be the accredited organs
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVIII. Z
324 RossettVs Poems, April,
of icsthetic taste. Hence there has arisen a state of things
in which a great proportion of the criticism of the clay has
entirely ceased to be the thoughtful expression of independent
opinion, and degenerated into the expression of the indis-
criminate adulation of a clique ' which moveth altogether if it
' move at all,' and which no more represents the balance of
educated public opinion than the productions which it recom-
mends represent the ideal of a genuine and healthful national
art or literature.
We may at once disclaim any intention to imply that the
two volumes of poems, the titles of which stand at the head
of this article, represent no higher element in poetry than the
artificial sensuousness of which we have spoken, or that they
would have failed to command attention apart from the rho-
domontade of over-officious zealots of the press. "Were it so,
serious consideration of their merits would be superfluous. It
is because they do contain higher elements of poetic power,
because, even when they are clogged with the morbid sensuous-
ness against which we have protested, they at least show that
their author is conspicuous among poets of this school for
picturesque choice of language, that it is worth while to
consider what matter of real value as poetic literature is to
be extracted from the somewhat chequered contents of these
two volumes ; and the unquestionable fact that the repute of
the first volume was largely forced by the advocacy of the
poet's too friendly critics seems to place us under a kind of
moral obligation to deliver Mr. Kossetti, if possible, from his
friends.
The publication of the first volume of poems in 1870 at
once justified the conclusion that their author was at least «o
mere versifier. To those who knew nothing of his other pro-
ductions, the sense of having met with something new in style
and expression was probably predominant on first reading
them. To those who knew anything of the author's paintings
(still carefully guarded from the public eye under the custody
of sworn admirers), it was easy to recognise in the poems,
under another form, some of the prominent intellectual and
artistic characteristics of the paintings. The languid sensuous
expression, the aifectation of archaism, the strong sense of
beauty of colour, combined with the sometimes almost ludicrous
stiffness and weakness of form and draughtsmanship, which cha-
racterised many of the paintings, seemed to be all reflected in
this collection of poems, with their singular mixture of rich
imagery, flashes of brilliant word-painting suggesting no defi-
nite logical connexion of ideas, weakness of construction, and
1882. Rossettis Poems. 325
often entire absence of the sense of literaiy proportion or of
the subordination of details to the total impression. One or
two other more direct analogies between the poems and the
paintings may occur to us further on. The latter having
been, as Ave have said, carefully hidden away, except from the
elect, as things too precious to be submitted to the gross ordeal
of public criticism, nothing is even known of them publicly,
save when one of the painter's journalistic satellites indulges
his readers Avith a glowing description of the last new work.
What would be the actual position now held by Mr. Rossetti's
paintings in general esthnation, had they been placed in the
light of public criticism instead of being nursed in private all
these years, we will not here undertake to say, but Ave shrcAvdly
conjecture that it Avould not be that Avhich the painter and his
friends appear to claim for them. Fortunately books cannot
be nursed in this way ; an author must, nolens volens, come to
the light of day, and be judged by ordinary standards. The
recent publication of a second volume of poems (including,
however, some Avhich had previously appeared), furnishes a
better basis for coming to a conclusion as to the place Avhich
these Avorks can take in recent poetical literature.
We have referred to Avhat we termed the very chequered
character of the contents of these volumes, Avhich, in fact, is so
mai'ked as to suggest in the first instance the question AA'^hether
a good deal of the poetry here included is not the result of
self-conscious elaboration rather than of genuine poetic fervour.
We can recognise three different styles in Mr. Rossetti's
poetry : one of them deliberately archaic, in Avhich the style
and turn of thought of the medijBval ballad is reproduced; a
second style in which Avhat may be called erotic fancies
(mainly) are expressed in fantastically elaborated and often
very obscure metaphor, and in verse much of Avhich may be
said to haA'c more sound than sense ; and we have a third group,
unfortunately much the smallest portion of the poems, in Avhich
the author shoAvs himself able to deal with subjects arising out
of genuine human passion and human action, in natural and
forcible language, differing from, that of ordinary speech only
in so far as the language of elevated feeling in poetry differs
from the language of ordinary idiomatic prose writing. In
regard to the tAvo first-named groups it may be observed that
the tendency to pose in an artificially induced phase of feeling
and of language, so often met Avith at present, is in itself an
indication of the existence of insincerity and affectation, of the
absence of a spontaneous poetic impulse. The attempt to
reproduce the effect of an archaic form of art or literature is
326 Ilossetti\s Poems. April,
not, however, -without its interest, if not carried too far, as it
lias been, for example, in the fashionable reproduction in
modern music of gavottes and other antique forms. Somewhat
analogous to these experiments in music is the experiment in
poetry of reproducing the directness, naivete, and simplicity
of the old ballad form, sometimes accompanied by a feigned
revival of the superstitious beliefs which furnished a lurid
background to so many of the old ballads. In one experiment
of this kind JNIr. llossetti has been signally successful — the
ballad of ' Sister Helen,' in the first volume of poems, Avhere a
betrayed and forsaken girl revenges herself on her now hated
lover by the old witchcraft of melting away his vraxen effigy,
at the cost of the perdition of her own soul as well as his. The
poem has every quality that a ballad of this class should have —
forcible and picturesque narration, and unaffected terseness
and simplicity of language, in which not a superfluous word is
admitted. Let the reader be in the mood to deliver himself
over to the weird fancy of the poem, and its effectiveness is
unquestionable. But it is very questionable whether such
imitative experiments (there are others not equal to this) ever
survive in literature. Even to the reader at the moment there
may come the turn of mood in which the whole thing will seem
too absurd to be read seriously. Supernatural terrors soon lose
their hold in modern poetry. Even so tremendous a ' bogey '
ballad as ' Lenore ' is now only read with a smile ; the ' Erl-
' kouig ' survives more for the sake of Schubert's music than
of Goethe's words ; the ' Lyrical Ballads ' of Southey (good
enough in their way) have gone into limbo ; and the ' Ancient
' Mariner ' retains its hold on us in virtue of its human pathos
and the exquisite touches of scenery in it, quite apart from its
supernatural machinery.
These considerations have some bearing on our estimate of
one of the two much longer and more important poems in
ballad form which occupy a large portion of the new volume.
The first of these, ' Rose Mary,' is certainly the most com-
plete and finished in form of the author's longer poems. The
scene is laid in some vague ])eriod of medieval life. Rose
Mary's lover, James of Heronhaye, is to ride on the morrow
to a shrift at Holycleugh, to which he will needs go alone.
Her mother has word of an ambush laid to take his "life, and
calls on Rose Mary to look in the magic beryl stone, wherein
to a pure maiden is shoAvn the vision of wdiatever she would
know^ to see on which of two routes the ambush is laid, that
the lover may be warned. The beryl stone, ' shaped like a
* shadowy sphere,' was once the abode of accursed spirits, who
Avere driven out by better angels- -
1882. Rossefti's Paems. 327
* Never again such home to win,
Save only by a Christian's sin.'
The girl kneels at her mother's knee to look in this tateful
mirror, through which
' As 'twere the turning leaves of a book
The road runs past me as I look ;
Or it is even as though mine eye
Should watch calm waters filled with sky,
While lights and clouds and wings went by ' —
a touch of that picturesque vividness of description in which
Mr. Rossetti excels — and we follow the incidents of the visionary-
road till, with a suppressed shriek, the girl tells how she sees
the spears by a ruined weir, and the blazon of the Warden of
Holycleugh, her lover's mortal foe. But, alas ! poor Rose Mary
has already been too kind to her lover, and her sin has given
entrance to the former evil inhabitants of the beryl, to blind
her with false shows. In the second part of the poem the
mother has guessed the daughter's secret, and has to tell her
that the lover has been murdered on the supposed safe road.
But worse is behind, for in the dead man's bosom is found a
letter and a lock of hair from the Warden's sister of Holy-
cleugh, and it is but too apparent why he must needs go alone
to his shrift. Rose Mary swoons away in agony, and on re-
covering finds open the secret panel giving access to a stair-
case, up which she blindly stumbles, to find herself in a kind
of mystic chapel dedicated to the four elements, in the midst
of which on an altar lies her enemy, the beryl stone, on
which she revenges herself in a suflficiently materialistic manner
by splitting it with her father's sword, thereby putting an end
to the charm. But this supreme effort brings to her side the
good angel whom her sin had driven out, and she dies with
the assurance of forgiveness and admission ' to Blessed Mary's
' rose-bower.'
W^e have read this highly-wrought poem very carefully
several times, in the endeavour to form a distinct conclusion
as to the cause of its failure to impress us in any degree com-
mensurate with the labour evidently bestowed on it, and the
very fine and even grand character of some of the versification.
We make no further quotations from it, for it is one merit of
the poem that it must be judged as a whole, having more con-
tinuity and process to a climax than any other of the author's
longer poems. But the feeling ib gives us is precisely that
which we have gathered from the contemplation of some of
Mr. Rossetti's paintings. We seem to have been in a land
328 Eossetti's Poems. April,
of dreams, peopled by figures wliich have no more flesh-and-
blood reality than the figures in a stained glass window ; and
even such human pathos as there is, is overshadowed by the pre-
dominance of the magic machinery, which constantly suggests
to us the sense of an absurd disproportion between cause and
effect, particularly when we find that all the devilry can be
taken out of the beryl stone by the simple mechanical means
of splitting it with a sword. Why not a mallet and ' cold '
chisel ? we are tempted to ask, which would have done the
work still better. It is impossible to repress a smile, too, at
the tremendous similes, drawn from all things in heaven and
earth, which are crammed into four verses, to give an adequate
notion of the stupendous results of the splitting of the stone.
Just as Carlyle, in his trenchant way, said of Scott that he
had spoiled the future of his novels by ' going in for the buff-
' jerkin business,' so we may say that in a poem like this
the poet has 'gone in for the conjuring business;' and con-
juring tricks, however effectively displayed, are after all only
an amusement for children.
* The King's Tragedy,' a narrative told in the first person
by that Catherine Douglass who earned the name of ' Kate
' Barlass ' from having thrust her arm through the door-staples
in an heroic effort to bar out the men who murdered James I.
of Scotland, is a poem of very different stamp. Here the in-
terest is real and human ; the language has for the most part
the unaffected simplicity proper to a ballad narrative ; and the
supernatural element, the vision of the king's ' wraith ' with
a shroud clinging round it, is in a poetic sense more probable
than in the other poem, and not disproportionately emphasised.
The defect in the poem lies in its want of brevity and reti-
cence in parts. Nearly one-third of it might be cut out with
great benefit to the force and effect of the whole ; but the
author seems to want the critical perception that whatever does
not directly add to the force and effectiveness of a poem (a
narrative poem especially) necessarily weakens it : parentheses
and reflections are inserted Avhich interfere with the unity and
movement of the poem, and the idea of tagging it with long
extracts from King James's own poem, ' The King's Quhair '
(altered, moreover, to suit the author's own metre), Avas a sin-
gularly imfortunate one. But in spite of these drawbacks
there arc genuine force and pathos in the poem, and the story is
told Avith constantly increasing vividness and reality. From
the first description of the night Avhen the king and court Avere
met in the Charterhouse of Perth, the ominous feeling of some
impending calamity overshadoAvs the scene: —
1882. RossettVs Poems. 329
* 'Twas a wind-wild eve in February,
And against the casement pane
The branches smote like summoning hands,
And muttered the driving rain.
* And when the wind swooped over the lift
And made the whole heaven frown,
It seemed a grij) was laid on the walls
To tug the housetop down.'
The contrast between the storm outside and the loving scene
between the king and queen within is finely imagined, but the
latter portion would bear much compression. The climax of
contrast arrives when the guests have departed, and the
king and queen are in affectionate talk while ' he doffed his
* goodly attire.'
' And now that all was still through the hall,
More clearly we heard the rain
That clamoured ever against the glass,
And the boughs that beat on the pane.
' But the fire Avas bright in the ingle nook,
And through empty space around
The shadows cast on the arras'd wall
'Mid the pictured kings stood sudden and tall.
Like spectres sprung from the ground.
' And now beneath the window arose
A wild voice suddenly :
And the king reared straight, but the queen fell back
As for bitter dule to dree ;
And all of us knew the woman's voice
Who spoke by the Scottish sea.
' " O king," she cried, *' in an evil hour
They drove me from thy gate ;
And yet my voice must rise to thine ears ;
But, alas ! it comes too late !
' " Last night at mid-watch, by Aberdour,
When the moon was dead in the skies,
O king, in a death-light of thine own
I saw thy shape arise.
' " And in full season, as erst T said.
The doom had gained its growth ;
And the shroud had risen above thy neck,
And covered thine ej'es and mouth.
• " And no moon woke, but the pale dawn broke.
And still thy soul stood there ;
And I thought its silence cried to my soul
As the first rays crowned its hair.
330 Rossettis Poems. April,
* " Since then have I journeyed fast and fain
In very despite of Fate,
Lest Hope might still be found in God's will:
But they drove me from thy gate,
* " For every man on God's ground, O king,
His death grows up from his birth
In a shadow-plant perpetually ;
And thine towers high, a black yew-tree
O'er the Charterhouse of Perth ! " '
Immediately on these last lines, wliich seem to rise in a
shriek above the storm, comes the clano^ of armed men and
' the tramp of the coming doom,' the confusion in the chamber
of which the locks ' have all been riven and brast,' the despe-
rate forcing up of a plank from the floor, through which the
king escapes to the vault below : —
' And louder ever the voices grew,
And the tramp of men in mail ;
Until to my brain it seemed to be
As though I tossed on a ship at sea
In the teeth of a crashing gale.'
And the narrator thrusts her arm through the door staples,
only to fall back maimed on the floor, and watch the crowd of
wrathful men ' ramping' through the chamber for their victim,
till they all rush forth again, and the night wind shakes the
rushes on the empty floor, and the moon throws the image of
Scotland's crown in the window over the fateful plank on the
floor. But storm obscures the moonlight ; the fierce crowd
surges in again, guided by one who ' found the thing he
* sought,' and the unarmed king is butchered in his hiding-
place : —
' Oh God ! and now did a bell boom forth,
And the murderers turned and fled ; —
Too late, too late, oh God ! did it sound ! —
And 1 heard the true men mustering round,
And the cries and the coming tread.
* But ere they came, to the black death-gap,
Some-wise did I creep and steal ;
And lo ! or ever I swooned away.
Through the dusk I saw where the white face lay
In the pit of Fortune's wheel.' *
There the poem should have ended. Even in a narrative
poem, poetic effect rather than historical completeness should
be the aim, and the concluding portion is anticlimax. But
* In allusion to an expression in King James's own poem.
1882. Rossetti's Poems. 331
the portion of the poem leading up to the catastrophe is a very-
powerful piece of narrative poetry, bringing vividly before the
mind's eye the scene it describes, and effecting this with a
directness and simplicity of language which stands in favour-
able contrast with the fantastic verbiage into which the author
too often falls.
Similar praise may be given to the shorter and slighter
poem, ' The White Ship,' which has also the merit of much
greater conciseness and concentration, and is, artistically speak-
ing, the best poem in the volume, though slighter and less
energetic in style than ' The King's Tragedy.' It would have
been better, however, if the artificial ' burden ' verse which
recurs several times had been omitted, and the story told in its
naked simplicity. But we will turn from the ballads, which,
after all, are all more or less archaisms, to the one poem of
importance in the earlier volume which deals in modern phrase
with a subject from modern life, and a ghastly subject it is, yet
one the choice of which we cannot regret, in view of the
temper and spirit in which it is here treated. "' Jenny,' which
derives its title from Mrs. Quickly's grotesque misconstruction
('Vengeance of Jenny's case,' &c.), stands quite alone among
Mr. Rossetti's poems. Like most of his longer poems, it is
unequal in construction and blemished by bad and awkward
lines ; but it is almost entirely free from the affected elaboration
of manner and overwrought metaphor to Avhich he is so prone.
The contemplation of the most painful and bewildering of social
problems seems to have raised the poet to a pitch of earnestness
of feeling and unaffected eloquence, such as we find nowhere
else in his pages. The poem is uttered in the person of one
who has half accidentally dropped again into a momentary com-
panionship, such as had once been too familiar to him (in the
case supposed it is obviously no more than companionship),
and soliloquises over the poor mercenary beauty who has fallen
into the unexpected slumber of pure weariness. Though the
poem is certainly not for boys and virgins, it is no small praise
to say that the subject is treated without one touch of in-
delicacy ; but it merits far more than this merely negative
commendation. Even Wordsworth (if we could imagine him
treating such a subject) could hardly have shown more forcibly
the pathos that may lie in the simplest language than in the
passage where the speaker imagines how in Jenny's mind
* There may rise unsought
Haply at times a passing thought
Of the old days that seem to be
Much older than any history
332 JRossettPs Poems, April,
That is 7v?'itten in an]f book,
When she would lie in fields and look
Along the ground through the blown grass,
And wonder where the city was ; '
and where he recoils on himself at the thought of the utter
futility of such reflections : —
' Let the thoughts pass, an empty cloud !
Suppose I were to think aloud —
What if to her all this were said ?
Why, as a volume seldom read
Being opened halfway shuts again,
So might the pages of her brain
Be parted at such words, and thence
Close back upon the dusty sense.
For is there hue or shape defined
In Jenny's desecrated mind,
AVhere all contagious currents meet,
A Lethe of the middle street ?
Nay, it reflects not any face.
Nor sound is in its sluggish pace ;
But as they coil those eddies clot,
And night and day remember not.'
We can call to mind few passages in recent poetry of more
tragic pathos than this. Equally fine, perhaps, in its serious
tone, is the passage where, after a cynical revulsion of feeling
in which for a moment the speaker contemplates the girl as
being, after all, but
' A cipher o£ man's changeless sum
Of lust, past,. present, and to come,'
he proceeds : —
' Like a toad shut in a stone,
Seated while Time crumbles on ;
Which sits there since the earth was cursed
For man's transgression at the first ;
Which, living through all centuries.
Not once has seen the sun arise ;
Whose life, to its cold circle charmed,
The earth's whole summers have not warmed ;
Which always — whitherso the stone
Be flung — sits there, deaf, blind, alone;—
Aye, and shall not be driven out,
Till that which shuts him round about
Break at the very Master's stroke,
And the dust thereof vanish as smoke.
And the seed of man vanish as dust: —
Even 80 within this world is Lust.'
1882. RossettVs Poems. 333
But the night wears on, and the sights and sounds of honest
life begin to struggle into the London streets, and the sparrows
chirp —
' And Jenny's cage-bird, grown awake,
Here in their song his part must take,
Because here too the day doth break.'
Another very fine passage follows this, picturing the dreams
and ambitions of the fallen woman ; but we must leave this,
and only return in conclusion to one sentence, where, after a
hopeless ejaculation —
* What has man done here ? How atone,
Great God, for this which man has done ? ' —
he adds : —
' If but a woman's heart might see
Such erring heart unerringly
For once ! But that can never be.'
Yet perhaps the poet may have contributed to render such
an impossibility less impossible ; for, say what we will of the
painful nature of the subject, the poem is not one from which
any truly womanly woman, who loves her sex, should turn
away.
It is with a sense of absolute bewilderment that we turn
from this poem to the set of Sonnets entitled the ' House of
' Life,' some of Avhich were published in the earlier volume,
and which appear complete in the later one. We charitably
hope that we may take it as one proof of the affected s^nd unreal
character of much of Mr. Rossetti's poetry, that the same
poet who could treat the subject of woman in her utmost
degradation in so high a strain, should treat the subject of
conjugal love so as to lower it more than we remember to have
seen it lowered in any serious poetry before ; should substitute
for true affection the languors of sickly and unwholesome
passion, expressed in language which, however overlaid with
farfetched and fantastic metaphor, comes at times little short of
absolute pruriency. Let it be granted that the purest affec-
tion is inextricably interblent Avith sexual passion, this is
certainly not the phase of the matter which would be predomi-
nant with high-minded men and women ; still less is it that
which it is seemly or healthful to dwell upon in serious litera-
ture, poetic or other. To quote Carlyle again : ' Thou shalt not
* prate, even to thyself, about those " secrets known to all; ' "
and though the author has had the sense to remove from the
complete collection one exceedingly disagreeable sonnet, there
is enough left to render the poems a much more unwelcome
33 4 Jiossetti''s Foems. April,
atldition to a domestic library than ' Don Juan,' in so far as this
kind of brooding over the ideas suggested by sensuous passion
is more enervating and unwholesome than that comic and half-
contemptuous treatment of the subject which only raises a laugh.
Recalling the recent dictum of our greatest critic and one of
our most gifted poets, that poetry is essentially ' a criticism of
' life ' (which, if we cannot accept it sans phrase, is certainly
one of the most profound and suggestive things ever said about
poetry), what a ' criticism of life ' is this, which represents the
' House of Life ' as the scene only of a moaning, fawning,
purposeless, unmanly passion I And unfortunately this tone is
only significant of a good deal more that we meet with in con-
temporary art and literature. In Mr. Rossetti's own paintings,
in his women with staring soulless faces and great red lips \ in
the sickly nymphs of the Grosvenor Gallery ; in the love scenes
of some of Wagner's operas, where, as in ' Tristan und Isolde,'
music is tortured to the expression of the most unbridled sexual
passion — in all these we see signs of a tendency which plainly
speaks of social unhealthiness and the decay (temporary at
least) of the best ideal of manly and womanly feeling. We
think of the tone in which woman has been spoken of in other
stages of English life and literature —
' I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more ; '
of Wordsworth's
' Perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command ; '
of the fine and elevated tone of some of the more serious
poems addressed to women by Byron ; of the noble figure of
Adriana in ' Philip van Artevelde ; ' of Tennyson's picture
of Maud seated under a cedar tree, ' singing of death and of
' honour that cannot die ; ' and we feel that something rotten
in the state is to be argued from the prevalence of a tendency
in art and literature to pay to woman a species of homage
which hardly deserves a higher title than aesthetic caterwauling.
From a purely literary point of view, these sonnets present
a curious phenomenon. They are prefaced with a fantastically
expressed sonnet in praise of the sonnet, for which it is claimed,
in one good line, that it should be
' Of its own arduous fulness reverent.'
The expression conveys well the idea of the concentrated
meaning and clearness, though terseness, of power and style
which should characterise this refined and intellectual form of
1882. Rossetti's Poems. 335
poetic expression. But the majority of the sonnets which
follow seem characterised rather by an arduous emptiness —
arduous certainly to the reader, if not to the writer. There
are a few which exhibit a comparative clearnerss of expression
and continuity of thought and metaphor, and which, if standing
alone, could be accepted as the adequate poetic expression of
a moment of impassioned fervour or of curiously elaborated
fancy. The sonnet called in the first volume • Love's Re-
'demption,' for example, which, when taken apart from the
rest, is capable of a less sensuous interpretation, struck us, in
its first form, as a fine utterance of passionate rapture, based
upon an unusual and effective metaphor ; in the second edition
it is spoiled by the excision of the \Qry metaphor which gave
to the poem its peculiar solemnity of turn and association. '"The
' Monochord,' described in the first volume as * written during
' music,' Avas one which, in spite of some obscure and awkward
lines, presented a fine expression of the efi'ect of music on
the mind, one remarkable line of Avhich has been before quoted
in these pages as conveying Avhat many must have felt in lis-
tening to some of Beethoven's symphonies, and which we have
never seen expressed in poetry before. By a strange perversity
this sonnet also has been in the second edition deprived of its
direct reference to music by an alteration of the first line, and
reduced to that cloudy vagueness of meanhig which it seems
the object of the poet in these sonnets to attain. One vigorous
and manly sonnet in the first volume, ' On Refusal of Aid
' between Nations,' is noticeable as breathing quite a different
tone, and representing a much clearer literary style than the
rest ; and there is a fine thought, powerfully expressed, in the
conclusion of the one entitled 'Known in Vain.' But, in spite
of a good deal of mere musical beauty of language and verse
in many of the sonnets, we turn over most of them Avith an
increasing sense of their intellectual barrenness and weak-
ness, of the preponderance of mere sound over meaning, the
prevalence of an elaborate and cloying mannerism of words
and metaphors, which seems not so much the expression of ful-
ness of thought as the arrangement of elaborate drapery to hide
the tenuity of the meaning. The constant iteration of certain
words and phrases increases the impression of affectation Avhich
these poems convey. The word ' control ' (as a substantive)
seems to have a peculiar charm ; there is some special meanino-
in the phrase ' soul-sequestered face ; ' the words ' fain ' and
' even ' —
' Even in my place he weeps. Even I, not he,' &c., &c., —
336 liossetti''s Poems. April,
are repeated (id nauseam. These latter expressions are a
well-known trick with lesser poets of the intense school, and
have been the subject of some well-timed gibeg in ' Punch.'
There are versifiers who are obviously created for nothing
better than to vent this kind of pribble-prabble. Mr. Rossetti,
if he did justice to the capacities which he has shown in some
other poems, might well regard such niaiseries as beneath him.
It is only just to say that, on the other hand, we constantly
meet with lines of much vivid picturesqueness and suggestive-
_ness, such as remain in the memory :■ —
* And see the gold air and the silver fade,
And the last bird fly. into the last light.'
' Sleepless Avith cold commemorative eyes.'
' Visions of golden futures ; or that last
Wild pageant of the accumulated past,
That clangs and flashes for a drowning man.'
But fine lines and metaphors do not in themselves make fine
poetry, any more than carved stones make architecture. Perhaps
we ought not to forget, either, in reference to our complaint
about the sensuous ideal of love expressed here, that there is
just a passing recognition of something higher in a sonnet where,
after a passage in which the poet puts himself in the supremely
ludicrous and indelicate position of a spectator of the most
sacred privacies of wedded life, he adds : —
' Ah ! who shall say she deems not loveliest
The hour of sisterly sweet hand in hand ? '
We thank the poet 'even' (as he would say) for that sug-
gestion.
As we have before hinted, comparing the tone and style of
these ' House of Life ' sonnets with that of some of the other
poems, we are disposed to regard them as the product of an
affectation of mental attitude and literary style, not repre-
senting the best side of the author's mind or the best possi-
bilities of his poetic utterance. Whatever chance Mr. Rossetti
may have of producing poetry which Avill be permanently
enrolled in the literature of this country appears to us to de-
pend very much on how far he may be able to shake off this
artificial and morbid phase of thought and style, and develop
the liigher powers of genuine pathos and sincerity of purpose,
and of a robust and healthy English style, of which some
portions of his poems certainl}- show very striking examples.
At present we should very much hesitate to affirm that any
of the poetry in these two volumes has sufficient innate vitality
to survive the inevitable changes in taste which soon put out
1882. Rossetti's Poems. 337
of date all poetry which is based on a mere temporary fashion
of feeling and expression, and not on those deep-seated feelings
which are common to human nature under all its varying social
and intellectual phases. The two among the longer poems
which deal most successfully with these more permanent sub-
jects of human interest are nevertheless somewhat heavily
weighted by defects of artistic form and consistency and literary
finish, defects which always tell against the vitality of poetry
sooner or later. The highest finish is reaHsed in the works
the interest of which Ave believe, from other causes, can only
be temporary. We must except, however, from this judgment
some of the smaller reflective and lyrical pieces ; among the
former ' A Young Firwood ' and ' The Wood Spurge,' among
the latter such as ' A New Year s Burden ' and two or three
of the other poems that are classed as ' songs ' in the first
volume. By way of giving a pleasant turn to the close of our
remarks, we may quote one of these, ' First Love remem-
' bered,' which in purity of thought and expression seems to
us nearly perfect : —
' Peace in lier chamber, wheresoe'er
It be, a holy place :
The thought still brings my soul such grace
As morning meadows wear.
' Whether it still be small and light,
A maid's who dreams alone,
As from her orchard gate the moon
Its ceiling showed at night ;
' Or whether, in a shadow dense
As nuptial hymns invoke.
Innocent maidenhood awoke
To married innocence :
' There still the thanks unheard await
The unconscious gift bequeathed ;
For there my soul this hour has breathed
An air inviolate.'
38 The Empire of the Chalifs. April,
AliT. Tir. — CuIftDv/eschichte des Orients unter den Khalifen.
Von A. VON Kkemer. Zwci Biinde. Wien: 1875.
* r\^ Monday, the 8th of June, 632 a.d., between the hours
' of two and tliree in the afternoon, there was a busy move-
* ment in the square before the chief mosque at Medina. The
' serious faces and pious ejaculations of the men, the wails of
' woe, now plaintive, now rising to despairing cries, of the
' women, who were in the huts nearest to the mosque, showed
' that some great and mournful event was anticipated. An
' hour had passed, when, from the summit of a platform of inter-
' woven palms covered with mud, a powerful musical voice
' gave forth the call to midday prayer. At that moment a
' man of some sixty years, Avhose long sharply cut profile
' showed his pure Arab descent, appeared at the door of the
' neighbouring dwelling-house. He was of fair complexion,
' spare figure, and prominent features. His beard, according
' to Arab custom, was dyed bright red to conceal his grey hairs,
' and the brow projecting from under the turban gave evidence
'of no ordinary intelligence. The man's Avhole appearance,
' however, was prematurely aged. His walk was halting, and
'his back was bent. He w^as dressed in a white sheepskin
' picturesquely thrown over the shoulder as a toga, Avhile his
' hands were left free. Under this garment he wore a close-
' fitting tunic of camel hair reaching to the kn^es. It was Abu
' Bekr, the father-in-law of Mohammed. He saluted all with
* the customary words, " Greetings to ye all." To which all
' present replied in the usual formula, " May the greeting of
' " God be unto thee and His blessings ! " The Prophet lay
' grievously ill within his house, a series of mud huts on one
*side of the square. Aisha was tending him — Aisha, his
'passionate youthful wife, then barely in her eighteenth
' summer, in all the glow of youth, her dark eyes flashing fire,
' her slim figure coquettishly half concealed in gauzy muslin,
' her small feet peeping out from the loose red trousers. The
' Prophet was reclining on a couch of palm boughs, his head
' on the lap of Aisha, while she fanned his heated brow, and
' endeavoured to calm his fevered fancy.
' There lay the man who within a period of a few years had
' established a new religion, had conquered Mecca, and rendered
' all Arabia obedient to his Avord. He was battling helplessly
* against the raging fever. His nervous organisation, meagre
* diet, night watches, and harem excesses had worn out the
' feeble body. His strength was sinking, wearier and deeper
1«82. The Empire of the dialifs. 339
*came his breath. Aisha murmured a prayer, " O God,
* " Refuge of man, drive away this evil. Thou art the Healer,
■* " Thou alone canst cure. Disease must yield to Thy healing
*** power." She prayed, and clung to the Pi'ophet's hand.
* She felt the hand weigh heavier and heavier. Suddenly she
* ceased her appeal to God, and her arms fell motionless by
* her side. The Prophet had passed away.'
The dramatic story of the death of Mohammed, of which the
above is a summary, opens a work full of interest to those who
would gain some knowledge of the mode of government and
state of society under the Chalifs of the first two dynasties.
Herr von Kremer, whose knowledge, industry, and research
have enabled him to consult all that has been preserved to us
«f the Arabic chronicles, as well as later authorities, has
succeeded in presenting a vivid and accurate picture of the
social life of the Arabs. In reading his two volumes we are
surrounded with actual realities, with living men, dining and
carousing witli them, listening to the gossip in the bazaar, wit-
nessing the jousts and races, serenading the beauties of the
Chalifs palace, whispering love in the shady gardens of Damas-
cus, assisting at grave debates, attending the solemn ceremonies
at Mecca ; we are in the law court, academy, and mosque, in
the palace, laboratory, and library ; before us passes a living
panorama of four centuries, headed by the great Prophet, the
inspired one, with his few faithful followers in the burning
desert, followed by the simple, stern Omar the lawgiver, by
Moawija the conqueror, by chieftains and poets, by hermits
and grave doctors, and closed by the luxurious voluptuary,
the Chalif of Bagdad, the last of the Abbasides. Religion and
law and finances, the military and civil administration, com-
merce, literature, and art, are all treated Avith fulness of detail,
precision of language, and acute and scholarly ci-iticism. AVithin
the limits of a review it is difficult, if not impossible, to render
justice to so vast a subject, on which, it is true, much has been
written, but which is considered by Herr von Kremer in an
entirely fresh and original manner.
To Omar, the second of the Chalifs, is due the praise of
having first organised into a state the unruly tribes of Arabia.
* He may be regarded as the founder of all thoce institutions
* which raised the Chalifate to a ruling power in the Avorld
* for centuries.' Before we pass on to later times it is neces-
sary to glance at the measures taken by this remarkable man
to give stability and compactness to the loose and hetero-
geneous elements of which the Arab race was composed.
Mohammed, humanly considei'ed, was a fervent religious
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXYIII. A A
340 Tke Empire of the Chalifs. April,
entlnislast ; Omar Avas the cool-headed statesman, of the hard,
stern monld of a Scotch Puritan. He kept two objects steadily
in view, the extension of Islamism and the assertion over other
people of the Arab race in all its purity. Although he was
most successful in carrying out his policy in respect to the first
point, still the means he employed were not peculiar to himself.
It was generally at the point of the sword that the Koran was
accepted. With regard, however, to the second object, Omar
enacted certain measures which bear the impress of the cha-
racter of the man who initiated them. The religious bond in
early days, beyond the limits of the Prophet's immediate
followers, was "not a strong one in itself. It is extremely
doubtful if the fervour which made martyrs of the early
Christians filled the breasts of the sons of the desert to the
same degree. The rapidity of the Arab conquests, the un-
paralleled swiftness with which the Koran Avas borne from
land to land and adopted by the subject races, the devotion of
the conquerors to their cause, should not be unhesitatingly
attributed to religious enthusiasm in its noblest sense. The
Semitic love of plunder and riches, and the proud arrogance of
an exclusive race, furnished motors as powerful as any spiritual
incitement. The half-hearted and unwilling acceptance of the
mission of Mohammed by many of the Arab tribes showed
clearly that the truth of that mission had not sunk deeply into
the hearts of men. Had it not been for the early military
successes of Abu Bekr, Arabia would have thrown off its
allegiance immediately after the death of the Prophet. The
jealousies and rivalries of the several tribes and their constant
feuds might at any moment rend asunder the somewhat Aveak
bond of a common faith. Some stronger tie had to be found
if the religion of the Prophet Avas to be spread amongst foreign
nations. For this a firm union between the bearers of the Avord
Avas necessary to ensure the success of the propaganda. It
was essential to create in each Moslem a direct personal interest
in the dissemination of his belief. Omar rightly judged that
the most powerful instrument Avould be the prospect of satisfy-
ing the aA'arice and greed of the Arabs.
In the very early days of Islamism, Avhen the financial ad-
ministration Avas of the simplest character, it had been the
custom to divide the surplus revenue of the state amongst all
the members of the Moslem community. It may be as Avell to
give a short account of the sources of the rcA^enue, and Ave can-
not take a better course than follow the narrative of Herr v^on
Kremer.
' The Koran ordains, after inculcating the necessity of prayer, the
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 341
levying of a tax (poor-tax) termed " zakali," Avhicli signifies purification ;
and the Arabs explain that by the payment of that tax the faithful
purified themselves and their property from all sin. In the Koi-an the
order to pay the poor-tax follows immediately after that enforcing the
necessity of prayer, " Offer up prayer and pay your legal alms,"
So much importance was given to this poor-tax that it was considered
as much a distinctive mark of the pure Moslem as prayer itself.
The riches of a man were chiefly estimated, as was but natural in
those primitive times, by the number of camels and sheep he pos-
sessed, and a proportionate duty was levied. This duty Avas paid in
kind. Merchants were also liable to a certain tax, as is evident from
the following order issued by Omar : " Take from the Moslem (mer-
" chants) one dirham out of every forty dirhams, and write a receipt
" for the year, but from the non-Moslem merchants take one dirham A
" out of every twenty." ^
' The revenue arising from the poor-tax was devoted to the following ^
purposes: — 1. The equipment of troops for war against the unbe- pi*
lievers. 2. The payment of the officials (Amil) who were entrusted .
with the collection of the tax, 3. The support and maintenance of q
destitute Moslems. It must be remembered that the two noble Ko-
raishite families, the Mottalibids and the Hashimids, the nearest relations
of the Prophet, were expressly excluded from receiving any moneys
from the poor-tax, as they were subsidised from the treasury chest.
By degrees the absolute disposal of the poor- tax and of the other
revenues of the State came into the hands of the Chalif. The taxes
which the subjected people of Egypt, Syria, Mesopotamia, and Persia
had to pay were twofold : 1. The poll-tax {gizja, tributum capitis) ;
and 2. The land-tax (c^ara^, tribiitum soli). The poll-tax Avas divided
into three classes. In Egypt and Syria, Avhere there existed a gold
currency, the standard being the Eoman solidus, the rich man paid
four dynars yearly, the middle classes two dynars, and the poor
classes one dynar. In Mesopotamia, Eastern Arabia, and Persia,
where there Avas a silver currency, and the standard was the Sassanid
dirham, forty dirham were paid as poll-tax by the rich. Beyond these
taxes the conquered races had to furnish the troops with certain con-
tributions in kind. A very productive source of revenue Avas the
booty captured in Avar, of Avhich a fifth part was set aside for the State.'
In the time of Omar's predecessor the donations from the
surplus revenue had been limited to the inhabitants of the two
holy cities, and possibly to the tribes in alliance with them ;
but the distribution was soon extended to all Moslems.
The revenues even in Omar's time amounted to such large
sums that both the Chalif and his counsellors were at some loss
how to apportion them amongst the faithful. The difficulty
was surmounted bj^ a census being taken, according to tribes
. and families, and a fixed yearly sum was paid to each tribe.
These donations Avere of no insigaificant amount, as a member
of even the loAvest class received an annual stipend of 1,000
342 The Empire of tlie ChaUfs. April,
dlrlmms (about forty ])Ounds sterlinnr). In distributing these
donations Omar strictly followed the precept of Mohamuied
that all jAIoslenis are brothers, as he made no distinction
between pure Arabs (-smj/i), half-blood Arabs {hahjf), and
clients. All Moslems without exception received the share to
which they were entitled. The subject races -were forced to
sow and labour ; to the Moslem was reserved the privilege of
reaping. His only duty was the noble profession of arms. The
non-Moslem paid poll and land taxes, and had further to furnish
contributions in kind. The Moslem, It Is true, had to submit
to a poor-tax of two and a half per cent, and to a land tax of
ten per cent. ; but he received from the State, on the other
hand, his share of the four-fifths of the war booty, and fixed
yearly donations in addition. As the number of the faithful
increased, and as the exigencies both of the State and of the
Court demanded larger resources, the liberality shown towards
the Moslems had gradually to be restricted, and some distinc-
tion In later times had to be made between the more recent
converts and those who were born believers in the faith.
The community eventually w^as classed under three categories :
1. Moslems ; 2. Converts ; and 3. Tolerated unbelievers. Theo-
retically no distinction existed between the first tw^o categox'ies,
but owing to the condition of the finances it was found impos-
sible to carry the principle into practice. It may be said
generally that the converts paid the land and poll taxes, while
the Moslem only paid the tithes.
Down to the period of the later Challfs of the Omeiyade
dynasty the Arabs of pure descent Avere alone considered as
forming a stable and reliable element in the State. The policy
of the early Challfs was to preserve the Arabs as a ruling and
a warrior caste, distinctly separate and excluded from foreign
admixture. Polygamy was adopted as a means to assist the
rapid increase of the race. With the view of maintaining the
Arab race as pure as possible, Omar promulgated sevei'al laws.
He issued a decree which prohibited all Arabs, beyond the
boundaries of Arabia, from acquiring property or pursuing
agriculture in the conquered countries. It is evident that
this law could not be strictly followed ; and, although Omar
punished the smallest Infraction of It with the greatest severity,
its observance, even in his day, was neither general nor exact.
Another measure of Omar, and one for which he has been
much blamed by later historians, Avas his expulsion of the Jews
|<"fl Christians from certain districts of Arabia. Nothing can
justify such arbitrary steps, though they were taken with the
view of preserving Arabia as the bulwark of Islamism. He
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 343
considered that there was but one race which should rule, and
that race was the Arabian. No Arab could be a slave ; he could
neither be made a slave by purchase nor by the misfortunes of
war. The Arabs were not to learn or speak foreign tongues,
and the Christians were not to be permitted to read Arabic or
write in the Arabic character. All these measures show that
Omar endeavoured to render the distinction between the Arabs
and other races as wide and as permanent as possible. In the
case of a race of conquerors coming into perpetual contact with
many different peoples, it Avas, however, in fact impossible to
maintain such ethnical barriers. The example of the Jews
may have been present to the mind of Omar, but the conditions
of the two cases were essentially different.
In his private life Omar remained true to the patriarchal
habits of the simple old Arabs. An eye-witness relates the
following anecdote : —
* On a very hot summer's day I was with Osman at an estate which
the latter possessed near Medina. In the distance we saw a man
approaching, driving before him two camel foals. Tlie heat was so
great that the ground Avas baked dry. We were astonished that any-
one should venture out on such a day. When the man came near, we
saw to our surprise that he was the Chalif Omar. Osman stood up,
and put his head outside the shady place under which we were resting,
but drew it quickly in again, as the burning wind was insupportable.
When Omar came up to us, Osman asked him why he had ventured
out into the open in such a heat. Omar answered that the foals be-
longed to a number of animals which had arrived in payment of taxes,
and that he wished to drive them himself to the State meadow so that
they should not run away and escape.'
Omar was mortally wounded in the year 644 a.d. by a
Persian slave during prayer in the mosque. Death, however,
did not ensue immediately, and he Avas able to effect his last
arrangements in full possession of his faculties. From the date
of his conversion to Islamism he had been the wise and trusted
counsellor of the Prophet. As Dr. Weil in his ' Geschichte der
* Chalifen ' observes, ' Islamism is indebted to him for most of
' the energetic measures of those days — measures which the more
* timid Mohammed and Abu Bekr would never have taken with-
' out his assistance.' The steps taken after his decease with regard
to the appointment of a successor are significant and important.
He appointed a Council of Regency composed of the most
influential companions of the Prophet, to whom he added his
own son Abdalrahman, on the express condition, however, that
the latter should not put himself forward as a candidate. This
council was to come to an agreement as to a successor, and
submit their choice for ratification by the people. The Arabs
344 Thr Empire of the Chalifs. April,
diflfercHl widely from other Asiatics on this point. The idea of
an hereditary monarchy Avas entirely foreign to them. They
considered that the Chalifs should be elected in precisely the
same maimer as they had previously chosen their chiefs — that
is, by i)opular acclamation. In early times this mode was
adopted, and the new Chalif received the homage of the people
by the primitive ceremony of handshaking. This had been
the form observed at the election of Abu Bekr.
* The ideas and customs inherited from ancient times had merely
been followed. The Arab tribes before the time of Mohammed had
observed a similar procedure in the election of their chiefs and leaders.
It was owing, however, to the fact that no rule had been established
that an endless series of succession disputes hereafter ensued. There
was a continual conflict between the theory of an election o£ the
prince by the people, and the law of succession according to seniority,
by which the eldest member of the ruling family was considered as
entitled to the throne.'
In the case of Omar's successor the Council, after much
wrangling, selected Osman, son-in-laAv of the Prophet. Here
the principle of seniority no doubt induced Aly to surrender
his claims as the nearest relative of the Prophet. Omar him-
self had observed the tradition of his race by expressly exclud-
ing his son from the candidature.
With Osman a new party came into power, the old patrician
party of Mecca, which had only very recently acknowledged
the Prophet and adopted Islamism, and which was bitterly hated
by the austere puritans of Medina. Osman, by several im-
prudent acts, roused the jealousy and fears of the Medina
party, and the feeling against him became at length so bitter
that a conspiracy was organised, and the venerable Chalif
murdered.
' Aly was called by the large majority to the Chalifate immediately
after the assassination of Osman. At first he resisted the choice ; but
the multitude listened not and forced him to stretch out his hand to
receive the salutation Avhich signified the approval of the election.
The malcontents proceeded to excite a movement against the new
Chalif, whom they accused of participation in the murder of Osman.
The situation was rendered extremely critical owing to Mouwija, the
Governor of Syria, joining the movement, and, under the pretext of
avenging the death of Osman, throwing off his allegiance to the
Government at Medina and declaring the election of Aly to be null
and void. In the sanguinary conflict which ensued Moawija proved
the victor, and Aly fell by the hand of an assassin. His son Hassan
was elected by his adherents as Chalif This feeble and timid ruler
soon retired from the throne, and handed over the reins of government
to Moawija. The Chalifate was thus once more in the undisputed
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 345
possession of one man. The capital, however, was no longer Medina,
but Damascus. The patriarchal Chalifate terminates -with this revolu-
tion, and Ave enter into the second period, during which the aristocracy
of Mecca governed the vast empire. On the fall of the Omeiyade
dynasty the seat of government Avas transferred from Damascus to
Bagdad, and thus ended the pure Arabian period of the Chalifate. The
Chalifate in its last stage became more and more affected by foreign
and especially by Persian influences, till the invading Mongol tinally
closed this period.'
The above remarks and quotation from Herr von Kremer's
work have been made in order to draAV attention to the manner
in Avliich the monarchical idea Avas interpreted by the Arabs.
The union of spiritual and temporal functions Avas considered
essential.
' To the pure Semitic mind of the Arabs government and religion
Avere identic conceptions. The Arabs employed the same term (imam)
to express " sovereign " or " head of the State," as Avas originally
used when speaking of the leader of the prayer at the public religious
services in the mo>^que. Sovereignty had been hitherto unknown to
the North Arab tribes, and, Avhen adopted, could not be disconnected
from the religious idea. They could not conceive a j^rince Avho Avas
not invested Avith the highest priestly powers. The Arab State ap-
peared to be a revival of the old Hebrew theocracy. Otherwise it is
impossible to understand how personal government and the monai"-
chical principle could have developed and taken root among a people
so unruly and so averse to restraint. Stern necessity formed out of
the scattered elements of the North- Arab tribes a community whose
intersocial relations were so governed by a system of strict discipline
as to present to the Avorld a united and compact State. The monarchy
was, therefore, a necessary condition to the preservation of the neAvly-
born Islamic commonwealth Avliich was involved in perpetual conflicts
with the neighbouring States. It is well Avorthy of remark that those
Arab thinkers Avho have made philosophical enquiries into the origin
of the monarchy have all candidly admitted it to be an institution
necessary to the maintenance of good order. They do not hesitate to
declare that an imjust and violent monarchy is better than unbridled
liberty, since an " unjust monarchy for forty years is to be preferred
" to one hour of anarchy." '
There Avas a Avide diflference between the Arabic and Hebrew
conceptions of the monarchy. The former took as a basis the
free election by the people, Avhile the latter considered legiti-
mate succession and divine sanction as essential elements in
the recognition of a sovereio;n. The careless rulers of the
Omeiyade and Abbaside dynasties paid but little regard to
their religious duties as Chalifs, and were content to govern as
purely temporal sovereigns, until the rapid decrease of their
power induced them to lay more stress on their spiritual claims
346 Tlu' Empire of the Chalifs. April,
as heads of Islam, and to endeavour thereby to reclaim a posi-
tion to Avhich their actual influence did not entitle them.
The Chalifs spiritual functions were not very arduous. In
the earlv days the Chalif had to preside at the prayers five
times daily in the mosque, and also to preach on Fridays. On
such occasions he appeared dressed in white, wearing a white
tunic and a peaked cap. This colour was changed to black
under the Abbasides. The only insignia of dignity that he
bore were the signet ring and the staff. In later times, how-
ever, the Chalifs appointed representatives for these religious
duties, and it is reported that on one occasion a Chalif of the
Omeiyade dynasty caused his mistress to ofhciate in his place.
Under the favouring auspices of Osman, the third Chalif,
the Mecca patricians acquired riches and prosperity, and
rapidlv monopolised all the lucrative and important posts.
Wealth flowed into the holy city as country after country
became subject to the conquering Moslem, and the pleasure-
seeking voluptuous manner of living w^hicli the nobles of Mecca
generally adopted found imitators even in Medina itself.
Music, and song, and dance replaced the old simple customs
in spite of the thunders of the fanatics. At banquets and
festivals the guests, clad in bright red, green, or yellow gar-
ments, reposed on couches strewn with sweet-smelling herbs and
flowers. Musk, aloe branches, and other scents burned in gold
and silver vases, and charmed the senses of the guests with
their heavy perfumes. Goblets of precious metal or of crystal
passed from hand to hand, while female singers warbled their
most touching ditties. The relations with the female sex
relaxed from the severity Avhicli Islamism desired to introduce,
and which it eventually succeeded in imposing. The young
bloods of Mecca pursued their bold courtships without shame
in the holy city, and even in the temple itself. As in
Europe of the Middle Ages, in the joyous times of the Trouba-
dours, so in Arabia woman was Avorshipped and courted with a
true chivalrous gallantry. In later ages Islamism sternly
thrust this frivolity from it, when society was perturbed by
fanatical priests, Ulemas, and the inspired hypocrites of the
mystical school. A change indeed, and within so short a period,
from the days when Abu Bekr employed his leisure hours in
cutlery, and Omar, declining a tent, slept under a bush with his
mantle as a covering !
' A busy, pleasure-seeking activity distinguished the higher classes
of the holy city. A barbaric luxury existed in company with a high
refinement of social etiquette and manners. Facilities for social
meetings were provided, and a rich patrician established a gambling-
18S2. Tlie Emjnre of the Chahfs. 347
house, a kind of club, where chess and draughts were played ; books
also were furnished for those who wished to read. At a very early
date an ordinary was opened at Medina.'
Two of the poets . of the day, Omar Ibii Aby Raby'a and
Argy, who were not behind their contemporaries in dissipation,
have left behind them many a song illustrating the gay and
careless life of the time. Courtships, love adventures, wine
songs, and epigrams abound in the collection of which Herr von
Kremer gives a discreet and judicious selection. We see in them
the forerunners of the minstrels of Damascus and Bagdad, of
Cordova and Grenada, of Guienne and Provence. It was not
until the middle of the first century of the Mussulman era that
an Arab school for singing was established at jNIecca, and some-
what later at Medina. Towais is the first who is mentioned
as having sung in Arabic and with the accompaniment of the
tambourine. The principal musical instruments in vogue at
that time were the small drum (doff), the tambourine {tanbur\
the shawm {nai), the lute {'ud), &c. Formerly the Arabs had
merely known a kind of montonous recitative, and the intro-
duction from Persia of an harmonious unison of voice and
instrument was a great novelty.
The more serious saw the dangers likely to arise from the
softening and enervating influences of such a mode of life as
that above described, and the fanatical party, exaggerating these
fears, cried out vehemently for the prohibition of all singing
and the destruction of all musical instruments. Laws were
even enacted to this purpose, but, as is always the case when
the impossible is demanded, they existed only to be ignored.
Indeed, as a bitter irony, it was from Mecca and Medina that
the Court at Damascus procured the best singers. The danger,
however, in the early days was really grave, as beyond the
dissertations on the Koi'an, with which few of the rich occupied
themselves, the youth of the towns had no serious studies. They
were, therefore, impelled on a very dangerous incline.
We have hastily glanced at the softer side of Arab life be-
fore the removal of the seat of government to Damascus ; it
may perhaps not be out of place now to give a short account of
the military organisation of the early Moslems. The troop&
were not divided into regiments or legions, but according to^
tribes, and were composed of two arms, infantry and cavalry.
The weapons of the infantry were the bow and the sling, the
pike and the sword, and the chief arm of the cavalry was a
lance of ten ells in length. The infantry carried as defensive-
arms large wooden shields covered with leather or metal guards
{tars), or small round targets {cjahfak or darakah). The troops
348 Tkc Empire of the Cluilifc. April,
wore helmets partly of leather and ])artly of inetal, with a
visor and small chain armour to cover the neck. The coats
of mail were also of chain armour, but, at any rate in the eax-ly
days, they were very rare owing to their high price. The
army in the field was divided into a centre, two wings, ^vith
advance and rear guards. The cavalry covered the wings, and
the archers, a very important arm, formed a separate corps.
Each tribe had its Hag, a piece of cloth tied on to the end of a
lance, while the large black standard of the Prophet formed the
centi-e rallying point. This standard was termed ' *Okab,' the
Eagle, from the effigy of this bird which surmounted the pole
of tlie flag, in imitation of the standards of the Roman legions.
It is needless to remark that what is at present called the flag
of the Prophet is the green curtain which formed the door to
his tent.
After the Arabs had met Avith the Greeks and Persians they
quickly adopted many of the improvements they found in the
armies of these two nations, and organised their troops on the
Byzantine model. The Arabs, however, had one surpassing
advantage over all troops of that and of many subsequent
periods, which was of more value to them than their abstinence,
endurance, and rapidity of movement. This advantage consisted
in the stern discipline which Avas maintained. Otherwise their
extraordinary conquests with limited numbers could never have
been accomplished.
' Omar and Osnian punished offenders by causing them to be placed
in the pillory and their turbans to be torn off. At first these
humiliating punishments were deemed to be sufficient; but it Avas
gradually Ibund necessary to increase their severity. Mosab added to
the above punishments the indignity of shaving tlie head and chin of
the offender. Bishr Ibn Marwan pushed matters a little further, and
nailed the hands of the prisoner to a post, Avhile Haggag, the energetic
Governor of Irak under Abdalmalik, simplified the degrees of punish-
ment by decapitating all offenders.'
The battles between the Arabs themselves usually commenced
by a series of duels between several of the most important men
on either side. These would step out of the ranks, sing a de-
fiant song, call out their names and lineages, and challenge any
adversary of equal birth to single combat. After a series of
duels the respective armies became excited against each other,
and a general attack Avas then made Avhich ended in a melee.
The cavalry never charged in a compact body, but in loose
order, and retreated as soon as they had made an attack.
The Grecian and Persian armies Avere very uuAvieldy in their
movements, and Avhen once their ranks Avere broken they could
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 349
no longer stand their ground, and lost as n)any men by the
confusion that followed as fell by the sword of the enemy. It
is stated that the Persians occasionally endeavoured to give
some firmness to their ranks by binding the men together with
chains. The consequences of a defeat in these circumstances
can easily be imagined.
The Arabs followed the example of the Romans, and esta-
blished fixed camps in the conquered provinces. These camps
in many instances grew into large towns, and soon lost their
original character. Under the Omeiyade dynasty further im-
provements and reforms Avere made in the military system, and
the Arabs adopted from the Persians the Greek plan, borrowed
from the well-known practice of Csesar, of making a fortified
camp at the end of every daily march. Great attention was
further paid to the war machines and transport service. For
the latter purpose camels Avere almost exclusively employed, as
best adapted to the nature of the country. The troops were
regularly paid, and their share in the booty proved an additional
incentive to the soldiers to remain under the standards. The
pay of the troops under the Omeiyades was liberal, amounting
to fifty or sixty francs a month to each soldier. The standing
army in those days was composed of sixty thousand men, costing
the country about sixty millions of francs annually. During
the Abbaside period the organisation of the army underwent
considerable changes, both in its number and composition.
With the necessity of defending and pacifying the vast empire
the army had to be largely increased, and the system of re-
cruiting had to be placed on a less exclusive basis. The new
converts were freely admitted ; and, as the Persian influence
acquired the preponderance, men of all races served under the
banner of the Chalif. The Turks Avere organised into a corps
of prastorian guards, and soon followed the example of their
prototypes under the Roman empei'ors.
The Chalifs of the Omeiyade dynasty were the first who
undertook maritime expeditions, and they employed for this
purpose the skilful sailors on the Syrian coast. With the
conquest of Egypt and other countries on the shores of the
Mediterranean, a large navy was rapidly developed, which soon
became the terror of peaceful merchants and of the inhabitants
of the adjacent sea coasts. It is clear that the Moslems effected
considerable improvements in naval tactics and equipment from
the Arabic terms Avhich still exist in nautical vocabularies, such
as admiral, cable, arsenal, corvette, &c.
Notwithstanding the religious enthusiasm, which, as we re-
marked above, was perhaps not so deep and general in the
350 The Empire of the Chalifs, April,
oarlv (lays as is usually believed, and notwithstanding the
brilliant and rapid victories which carried the Prophet's banner
to the Euplu-atcs and Guadalquivir, the Mussulman State could
not have developed such strength and consistency, nay could
not even have existed, had not the civil, financial, and judicial
administration been established on a firm basis. Much that
concerned the above branches of government was no doubt
borrowed from the Greeks and the Persians ; but the Arabs
were a race of far too great originality, the circumstances of
their position, habits, and religion were of far too peculiar and
special a character, to permit their system of government, their
financial administration, and their laws to be but a copy of
Avhat they found existing in neighbouring countries and among
the nations whom they conquered.
The subject is too vast for us to endeavour to enter upon
it within the limits at our disposal ; we can give but a bare
outline of the mode in which the numerous and distant pro-
vinces were governed during the periods of the Arab dynasties.
Herr von Kremer has gone most thoroughly into the subject,
and his cha])ters on the financial and legal administration of
the Arabs furnish a variety of details which are well worthy
of the most attentive perusal. There is one great fact to be
borne in mind, which has especial force in considering the
affairs of the Ottoman Empire of the present day, and that
is that the whole system of the government during the period
Avith which we are now concerned was based on the principle of
decentralisation. To-day the exact opposite is the case. Each
village and each town governed itself, and the central autho-
rity did not interfere unless disturbances took place, or the
taxes were not paid. Each province had its separate treasury,
and the provincial expenditure was first met before the surplus
was remitted to the central government. At the commence-
ment of the Omeiyade dynasty the Empire was divided into
ten provinces, and as the list shows the extent of the Moslem
rule, it may not be out of place to enumerate them. The
provinces were as follows: — 1. Syria; 2. Kufa with Irak
3. Bassorahwith Persia; 4. Armenia; 5. Mecca; 6. Medina
7. The frontier of Jndia (Kerman, Scinde, Kabul, &c.) ,
8. Africa; 9. Egypt; 10. South Arabia. Over each province
was a governor, appointed by the Chalif, and removeable at his
will ; but it is easy to understand that the authority of the
central government over powerful governors of distant pro-
vinces became gradually weakened, and the subserviency of
these satraps became in many instances merely nominal. In
fact, at the date of the Crusades, the political situation of the
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 351
East resembled in some particulars that of the West. In each
case there is a number of independent princes acknowledgino-
one spiritual head, the Eastern Chalif or the Western Pope.
Before, however, the relation between the provinces and the
centre had become of this loose nature, the authority of the
Chalif was of a sensible kind, and was not unfrequently exercised.
Omar considered it extremely inexpedient that all powers,
judicial, financial, and administrative, should be entrusted to
one man, and he commenced the prudent course of separating
these various functions and confiding them to distinct officials.
His endeavours in this respect were not, however, very success-
ful, and the efforts of his successors to separate the financial
from the administrative duties met Avith considerable opposition.
One governor frankly declared his objections to these reforms
to lie in his fear that the Chalif desired to place him in the
position of the person who held the horns of a cow while another
milked her. There does not appear to have been the same
difficulty Avith regard to the appointment of judges, and Omar
insisted on the regular and liberal payment of these officials in
order to ensure impartiality and a sense of duty. The finances
gradually came into the hands of the Christians and Persians,
when their administration became more complicated. Abd-al
malik, fired with the desire to render the whole government
thoroughly Arab, dismissed all those employes who were not of
that race, but he found that it Avas necessary to reinstate them,
as few Arabs were competent to deal with questions demanding
a special education. The judges, it should be remarked, were
named simply to settle differences between Mussulmans. The
contemptuous indifference of the Moslem conqueror for the
subject races allowed the latter to regulate their own affairs
according to their own manner.
We may tarry for a moment to say a few words with regard
to the position of the Christian and other religious under the
Arab domination. A special distinction had been made by
Mohammed between the Christian and Jewish religions and
those of other sects, such as the Manicha3ans, Zoroastrians, &c.
To the former two creeds greater toleration was shoAvn than to
the others, and it cannot be denied that, generally speaking, the
condition of the two relatively favoured religions was not so
hard as has occasionally been asserted. This statement should
not be taken too literally, as the treatment of Christians, for
instance, varied under different Chalifs and in different coun-
tries. The Christian of the toAvn further enjoyed a better
position in comparison with his co-religionist who tilled the
field. The former was educated to a certain extent, and use-
352 Thr Empire of the Chalifs. April,
ful, nay even necessary in the more scientific branches of the
(Tovernmcnt, -while the latter had to make good to the treasury
the deficits caused by the special exemptions granted to tlie
IMcslcm. Some Aveight has been attached to the fact that a
distinctive dress had to be worn by the Christians, but this
mark of diftcrence was not intended as a badge of inferiority
merely, but as necessary to distinguish the several sects. In
language and mode of life the Christian was in many places
similar to his Moslem neighbour ; an outward and visible differ-
ence Avas, therefore, considered essentially necessary. The in-
tellectual activity of the Christians remained not without its
influence, and to it the Moslems are indebted not only for
their acquaintance with the philosophical literature of the
Greeks, and for their instruction in medicine and the more
subtle arts, but also many of the later divisions in Islamic
thought may have derived their origin from similar movements
in the Christian Church. The positions held by the Nestorian
Catholics, and also by the * Prince of the Captivity ' at Bagdad,
prove that the Moslem rulers were not Avanting in respect to
the heads or representatives of those religions which they recog-
nised as worthy of toleration.
Herr von Kremer has, with just reason, been at considerable
pains to describe the ritual and religious ceremonies in the
mosques. The political, social, and religious duties of the
Moslems were so interwoven, and indeed still are so, that it
would be impossible to treat of them separately. CajDtaiu
Burton has described in such detail the localities and the
pilgrimage ceremonies that it is needless to repeat them here.
We would only draw attention to certain points which have not
been fully entered upon, and to the importance attached to the
proper performance of the obligatory prayers.
The weekly sermon was held Avith greater ceremony than is
at present the case ; and the following account, which is taken
from an eye-Avitness, Avill sIioav the solemnity observed on the
occasion.
' When the pulpit had been moved to the Avail of the Kaaba, tlie
preacher entered the mosque through the door of the Prophet. He
Avas dressed in a black mantle, embroidered with gold, and his turban,
over Avhich Avas throAvn a veil, was also of black Avorked with gold
threads. This was the dress given to him by the Chalif. Preceded
by an acolyte, he sloAvly Avalked down the mosque betAveen men bearing
l)lack banners. In his hand he carried a red tAvisted staff, on the end
of Avhich Avere fastened strips of fine leather. This he occasionally
SAvung round quickly so as to let all those in the mosque be aware that
the sermon Avas about to commence. Before ascending the pulpit he
advanced to the black stone, kissed it, and offered up a prayer. The
1882. The Empire of the Ckalifs. 353
sword was then liur.g over his shoulder, and he commenced to mount
into the pulpit. At each step he clanked the sword against the steps,
and having oifered up another prayer, and called blessings on the heads
of the congregation, he threw the sword on the groimd and commenced
his sermon.'
The sermon was a powerful instrument in the hands of the
Ulemas, and they used it unsparingly. In no other religion
perhaps has greater importance been given to prayer than in
Islamism, and in no other is prayer so tied down with rules
and formulas. The smallest details, every gesture and pro-
stration, are prescribed by the most exact regulations, and the
non-observance of any of them completely destroys all the
efficacy of the prayer. In these circumstances it is inevitable
that prayer should, in general, degenerate into a mean-
ingless ritual, although the belief in its efficacy may still be
strong. It is performed as part of the daily duty, and is not
the spontaneous outpouring of a sincere heart. The faithful
in these matters follow strictly the example and ordinances of
the Prophet. He laid down that there should be five prayers
daily, one before sunrise, at midday, in the afternoon between
three and four o'clock, at sunset, and in the night. Great
importance was also attached to the prayer being in public
and in common. A saying of Mohammed was quoted that
' the prayer in common is worth fiftyfold that which is said
* at home or in the place of business.' The constant reitera-
tions of certain phrases were supposed to have a salutary effect
in proportion to the number of repetitions ; while, on the other
hand, the omission to perform the necessary number of prayers
rendered nugatory all the good works that might have been
done in the day. In short, prayer Avas the outward and visible
sisrn of the grood Moslem, and even in the time Avhen numerous
sects had appeared the prescribed forms and regulations were
always universally observed, however much difference there
might be with regard to dogma. It is not difficult to appre-
ciate the effect of this rigid discipline exercised daily and
universally throughout the Moslem world. However careless
the rich and powerful might in time become with respect to their
religious duties, the mass of the people followed the traditions
of their Church with a scrupulous exactitude. This is the
more to be noted, as Islamism demanded much of its disciples.
Beyond the prayer five times daily, a Moslem had to pay the
poor-tax, to fast during the Ramazan, to make his pilgrimage
to Mecca, and to submit to the military service when called
upon to do so. There were again numerous regulations with
regard to the cleansing of the body and the nature of the food
354 The Empire of the Chalifs. xVpril,
to be eaten. NotwitlistantlIii<:!; tliese numerous calls on the
conscience of the individual, Islamisin, however, granted many
i^ivours to its devotees. ' Xearly every sin could be washed
* away by an expiatory fine, by fasting, or by prayer. Fre-
* quently the penance consisted in fe<eding a certain number
* of ]wor ])eople, in setting a slave at liberty, or in fasting.'
With the spread of Islamism sprang up numerous sects,
some moved to dissent on philosophical grounds, others pushed
to extremes by an exaggerated fanaticism. The latter, as is
usually the case in the East, gave birth to many frenzied
•enthusiasts avIio still exist to the present day. Of the former
we shall have to speak later when wc treat of the Chalirs
Court at Bagdad. "With the victory of Moawija over Aly
and the submission of Hassan, the seat of government was
removed to Damascus.
Damascus has, at various times and in different circum-
stances, played a great part in Oriental history, but it arrived
at the zenith of its brilliancy when the Court of the Omeiyades
resided thei-e. Firmly established on their thrones, with
absolute power and ever-increasing resources, the Chalifs of
that period indulged in all the pleasures of life to a degree
hitherto unknown. The dissipation of the worst periods of the
Roman and Byzantine emperors Avas imitated and almost
equalled at Damascus. Yazyd I. is the typical Chalif of a
characteristic age, an age which had lost the simplicity of the
early Arab days, and which had not attained the refinement
of the Court at Bagdad. Herr von Kremer gives a lively
picture of Damascus at that time.
* Damascus was the residence of a rich and extravagant court,
with its train of high officials. Hither came crowds of strangers,
merchants, and caravans from all parts of the'East. Her bazaars were
filled witli the artificial and natural products of three hemispheres, and
frequented by a picturesque and busy crowd. Here groups of Syrians
in their piu-ple cloaks, ornamented with arabesque patterns, with
baggy trousers and red sandals, in their full turbans of white or blue,
•drove their asses and mules laden Avith the produce of their country.
Bedouins, in their woollen mantles of brown and white stripes, their
heads bound with "kufijes" of red and yellow, stood gaping and
puzzled in the crowded streets ; here on a prancing steed ])assed a
haughty chief, shaking his long lance. Descendants of the Prophet,
with sharply-cut features, slowly paced towards the mosque counting
their rosaries. Trains of women, their figures completely concealed
in their long white cloaks, bargained and haggled in the shops ; black
slaves and beggars pushed and wrangled inthe mob; water-carriers,
selling iced lemonade and sherbet, clinked their metal cups; on all
sides were heard the cries of the vendors. " Kaghyf ja .shibiib," " Bread,
"good youths," cried the bread seller; "Goods from Halbun," called
1882. The Empire of the Chahfs. 355
out the peasant with his splendid figs, grapes, and pomegranates;
*' Eddaim Allah," " God is the imperishable," was the cry of the salad
seller, wishing to win the custom of the devout by praising the eternity
of God in drawing attention to the perishable quality of his goods.
And all this bustle and turmoil took place within the narroAv streets
shaded from the sun by straw mattings or under the stone arcades.'
The Chalifs took the lead in the gay, roystering life which
was passed by the society at Damascus. Cock-fighting and
polo and horse-racing, drinking bouts and revels occupied the
greater portion of the day. They lived for the day and were
careless of the morrow. Yazyd I. affords a striking picture of
the reckless indifference which the high-born showed for their
reputations and for the consideration in which they were held
by the people. Reclining on couches, in the sumptuously
furnished halls or cool courts of their palaces, surrounded with
till the luxuries which the riches of the East could procure,
the nobles passed their days and nights in watching the volup-
tuous dances of their female slaves, in listening to the erotic or
fulsome songs of highly-paid singers, in drinking, gamblinc^,
and intrigue. The passion for music which was rapidly deve-
loped at Damascus is worthy of remark. It rose to such a
height that fabulous sums were paid for the services of the
most popular singers. It is related that Yazyd sent for a
famous singer from Mecca, named Ma'bad, and, as was the
etiquette in those days, listened to his songs from behind the
screen which concealed the Chalif from the public gaze.
Ma'bad, however, possessed to such a high degree the gift of
enchanting his audience, that Yazyd, unable to contain himself,
sprang up and danced wildly round the room till he sank down
unconscious. Another anecdote further illustrates the sus-
ceptibility of the Chalifs to the power of song.
Ibn Mosaggih had so great a success as a singer that the younger
members of the noble families of Mecca were enraptured with him,
and squandered their money on him. The attention of the governor
of the city was attracted by the excitement caused by Ibn Mosaggih,
and he reported to the Chalif at Damascus that the young 'nobles of
Mecca were ruining themselves on the singer. On receipt of this
report, an order came from Damascus to send the singer to the capital.
He appeared there, and so captivated the Chalif by his voice that the
latter richly rewarded him, and sent him back to Mecca with orders
to the governor not to molest him further.'
The love of music and song was especially cultivated by the •
young nobles of Mecca.
' A stonemason cf the name of Hodaly had a great natural talent
or improvising rhymes. When he was at work in the quarries, the
[young people used to visit him, and beg hini to sing something to
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVIII. B B
356 The Empire of the Chulijs. April,
them. Hodaly, however, stipulated for his reward in advance, and
asked his admirers to lielp him in his work. They, nothing loth,
tucked up their caftans, tied them round their -waists, and set to work
carry in^i? stones. When the task was finished, Hodaly would climb up
on a rock, sit down, and begin to sing, while the audience lay about
on the sand. Goblets and refreshments were sent for, and they
caroused till sunset.'
The pleasures of life were, however, not reserved to the
men alone. The position of women m those days was ver}^
different from that which they at present occupy in the ]\Ius-
sulman world. Not only were they the objects of much
chivalrous admiration, but they were able to exercise consider-
able influence on public affairs. They did not lead the secluded
life which is at present the custom, but moved freely in the
society of the time. Indeed, during the most brilliant period
of the Abbaside dynasty, a class of Avomen existed Avho occu-
pied themselves with the theological and scientific disputes of
the day, and whose salons were frequented by the literary
world. ' The advantages which a woman had to possess in
' order to attract men, were not only beauty, but also noble
' descent, intelligence, wit, and a fine character.' Perfect
freedom was allowed to a woman in the choice of a husband,
and cases were not unknown of the widow of a Chalif marry-
ing a simple private individual. The dowry which a woman
brought to her husband remained her own property, and she
was also permitted to lay down as a condition to marriage
that her husband should not take to himself, during her life-
time, a second wife. In the early days of Islamism the position
of woman Avas independent and respected. ' Nothing was con-
' sidered nobler or more praiseworthy than when a warrior
' offered up his life in defence of the honour of his wife.' The
first shock to the position of women was given by Walyd II.
of the Omeiyades. This Chalif introduced the institution of
the harem into social life, and on him must be laid the blame
of having first inoculated the Mussulman world with the virus
Avhich has gradually and surely undermined its vigour and its
health, has rendered fruitless all individual efforts towards ini-
])rovenient and reform, and has vitiated and distorted the
higher qualities and energies of Arab, and Saracen, and Turk.
The distinction between wife and concubine, between legitimate
and natural children, gradually disappeared ; woman sank to
the position of a slave to the desires of her lord, and children
were brought up in the polluted and degrading atmosphere of
an Eastern harem. Intermarriages between near relations
and ]X)lygamy caused the race to degenerate physically and
morally.
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 357
' Notwithstanding these serious evils Eastern polygamy has generally
been much misunderstood and wrongly judged. At the date of the
appearance of Islamisni, polygamy was natural to the state of society
amongst all civilised races. Every tribe and every family found it neces-
sary to their power and authority and safety to increase their numbers as
rapidly as possible. Polygamy not only was supposed to assist to this
end, but was also practised in consequence of the family alliances which
it procured. But polygamy in these conditions must be carefully dis-
tinguished from the harem institution of later days. The Arabs were
a people of highly aristocratic principles ; great weight was given to
noble descent, and mesalliances rarely took place. In the house or the
tent of the tribal chief several wives did not hold equal positions ; one
alone was regarded as the mistress of the household, the noble-born,
the Arab woman i^ur sang. The other wives held an intermediate
position between her and the domestic servants. The relations of
Sarah to Hagar in the household of Abraham furnish a good example
in point.'
The number of members of each family owing to this system
is very remarkable. A son of Walyd II. had as many as
sixty sons. A large family, which, in early days, was perhaps
of advantage, soon proved to be a curse. At first it was not
difficult to find the wherewithal to support families of any
size. There was elbow-room and money in abundance. As
the Arab reached the limit of his conquests, and the revenues
commenced to diminish, as the State was harassed by internal
disorders, by party and religious struggles, the fight for exist-
ence became serious. With the advent of the Abbasides to
the Chalifate the pure Arab lost the dominant position he had
hitherto held, and his lands were gradually occupied by Persian
and Turkish intruders. He then found it impossible to sup-
port his numerous progeny, and poverty and distress became
general. With the harem appeared the hideous train of
eunuchs, an importation from the Byzantines, who furnished
the first supply of these pernicious adjuncts to an Eastern
household. Great as may be the reputation enjoyed by the
Omeiyade dynasty in the eyes of the Mussulmans, as represent-
ng the consolidation of the Islamic Empire, yet to it must be
ascribed the introduction of those vices which have never been
eradicated, and which are fatal to the true development of both
;he State and the individual.
In many respects the Court at Bagdad was not superior to
;he preceding dynasty ; but, whatever faults may have existed
mder the Abbasides, the artistic, literary, and scientific
ictivity greatly redeemed the errors which had been inherited.
Under the Abbasides the Moslem was at the zenith of his
tplendour ; it was the Augustan age of the East, culminating
358 The Empire of the Chalifs. April,
In tlic dazzling reign of Ilarun al Easliid. Poetry and music,
science, exact" and occult, astronomy, philosophy, theology,
botany,' and medicine were pursued Avith a vigour and an
enero-y which produced some very remarkable results. Bag-
dad was the centre of literary, artistic, commercial, and political
life. Her trade extended to the walls of Canton, to Russia,
Sweden, and Spain. There is scarcely a branch of art, of
science, or of philosophical thought, which does not bear in
some degree the impress of Bagdad.
The Islamic Church had undergone many changes since its
chiefs had transferred their residence from the Holy City.
The cynicism, the enquiring spirit, the intellectual movement,
which were general and increasing, could not be without eifect
on religious 'matters. There were four principal questions on
which the Arab theologian occupied his mind — the conception
of the unity of God," the transmission of the sovereignty,
punishment in a future life, and predestination. On these
subjects and others of a kindred nature a mass of polemical
literature was written, which split up the community into
numerous sects. The intercourse between the Christian theo-
loo-ians at Damascus and the Arab literati had made the latter
acquainted with theological dialectics. The contact with new
ideas and other religions, the acquaintance with the Greek
philosophers which became general amongst the educated
classes at Bagdad, the tendency to scepticism, encouraged as
it Avas by the Semitic mode of thought and the manner of
living, opened the mind of the jMoslem to doubt and discus-
sion, and, in the higher classes, banished the blind unreasoning
faith of their ancestors. The sects were, therefore, partly
political and partly religious. There were the politico-religious
sects of the Charigites and the Shy'ites, and the religious sects
of the Morgites, Kadarites, and Mo'tazilites. There Avere
numerous others, but these Avere the principal. The Charigites
were fanatical puritans, strongly in favour of the orthodox
succession, and considering that faith had no value unless
accompanied by good Avorks. They declared that those Avho
AA'cre not of their opinions AA^ere eternally damned, and that it
Avas just and right to shed the blood of all unbelievers. The
opinions of the Shy'ites on the succession are too Avell known
to require recapitulation. They adopted old Persian and Indo-
Buddhistic ideas respecting the monarchy, and reverenced
their prince as a demi-god. The Morgites Avere strictly ortho-
dox. They considered faith alone as being necessary to save a
man, Avere opposed to the shedding of blood, and firmly be-
lieved in the doctrine of predestination. The Kadarites were
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 359
democratic in their ideas, and were the ardent supporters of
free will. Their system was highly developed by the later
Mo'tazilites, who deviated more than any of the other sects
from the orthodox path. On two important points they were
at complete variance with the received doctrines — namely, with
regard to their conception of God and revelation. They were
strongly opposed to the anthropomorphic idea of God, and
regarded Him in the abstract nature of a First Cause. The
Koran they considered as a book containing the writings of an
inspired man, but did not Avorship it with that blind reverence
which had hitherto been the case. These discords in the com-
munity, although they no doubt were a cause for anger and
ill-feeling, still stirred up a great movement, and prevented
men from falling into an apathetic acceptance of traditions and
doctrines. Unfortunately the Eastern mind is apt to go to
extremes, and we soon see the two distinct classes — on one
side the fanatical ascetic, the monkish devotee, the stern, un-
yielding, punctilious theologian ; and on the other the careless
unbeliever, the philosophical free-thinker, the cynical, sceptical
man of letters. These distinctions are nowhere more clearly seen
than in the poetry of the day. Indeed, in Arabian history the
progress of thought and civilisation can, perhaps more than in
other nations, be traced in the poetical effusions of the time.
His impressionable character and facility of expression en-
couraged the Ai'ab to pour forth his own ideas, or to render
the impressions he received from his environment, at once into
verse. The enthusiasm with which such lyrical efforts were
received we have noticed above.
The physical characteristics and mode of life exercised a
great influence on the early poetry. The nomad Arab, wan-
dering with his herds and flocks, had his mental horizon limited
by his immediate surroundings. His pictures of nomadic life
are, judging from the examples given by Herr von Kremer,
charmingly and accurately drawn ; and he delights to describe
the qualities of his two favourite animals, the horse and the
camel. Beyond these subjects, he sings of wars and of raids,
describes joyous carouses and hunting parties. Revenge, love,
and friendship also form subjects of his lays, but the thought
is poor, and but little reflection is shown. Rarely is a word
of counsel given. The poetry is but versified description.
Before the time of Mohammed there is no allusion to a life
after death, and in fact the future, even in the present world, is
rarely mentioned. We see, even in the secondhand translations
at our disposal, the simple, restless Arab moved by the first
impressions, and incapable of looking further than the imme-
360 The. Empire of the Challfs. April,
diatc present. Old age seemed to be looked upon with some
fear, Avhich is singular among a people which in many circum-
stances revered grey hairs. Probably the seventh age alone
is alluded to in the following verses of 'Orwa Ibn Alward :
' It bcseemeth me not to totter along propped up by a stick ;
* no longer a terror to my enemies, and despised by my friends.
' Shall 1 crouch in the corner of the room, a jest and a sport
* for the young ? and creep about bent like a young ostrich ?
' Nay, O children of Lobna, bridle the steeds, let us aAvay to
' the iDattle-field, for death is better than shame.' With the
a])pearance of Islamism this class of poetry came to an end.
The war songs still continued to be sung, but at Mecca a new
erotic poetry sprang up, of which the chief exponents were
Omar Ibn Aby Raby'a and 'Argy. At the same time more
serious thoughts were expressed, and death came to be regarded
not merely as an escape from helpless old age, but as the
moment when each individual would have to answer for his
deeds. Waddah thus gives vent to such feelings : ' O Waddah,
' why siugest thou but the songs of love ? Fearest thou not
' death, the lot of all men ? Strengthen thy steps, revere the
' God above, for He will save thee on the judgment day.' The
poets of the later Omeiyades and of the Court at Bagdad were
distinguished chiefly by an absolute indifference as regards
religion, a worldly cynicism, and a contempt for morality.
'Argy and his brother poets were not very chaste either in
their subjects, sentiments, or words, but their love songs were
the outpourings of a gay and careless mind. Their successors
wrote as satirical worn-out men of the world, to whom all
pleasures were bitter, and who mocked at all that was fresh
and natural. The lano;uao;e in these later times was more
polished, the versification more correct, and the imagery more
vivid ; but we lose the rough simplicity and breezy nature of
the early Arabs, as well as the na'ive passion of the minstrels of
Damascus. Abul'atahija, however, established a new school.
He was the champion of the popular feelmg against the vices
and dissipation of the great ; but his fame was eclipsed by the
glory of his follower, Abul'ala, commonly called Ma'arry, born
973 A.D. ' He is celebrated as being the deepest and most
' serious thinker of his race, and stood on the threshold of de-
' cay, a noble monument of the poetic art.' He was pursued
through life by the fanatics and ulemas, but his teaching and
his example gathered to him many disciples. His calm philo-
sophical mind could not accept the conception of a personal
God or of inspired prophets. In this he clearly followed the
doctrines of the Motazilites. Reason, he asserted, was the
1882. The Empire of the Chalifs. 361
sole guide of man. God he considered in the abstract idea of
the First Cause, and ' religion/ he stated, ' is to be just towards
' all men.' To do good, for the sake of good, and not with a
view to future reward, was the text of his teaching. His
views of the world were somewhat gloomy, and as he became
embittered by the persecution and ingratitude of his felloAv-
countrymen, he began to question the value of existence. His
pessimist views went at length to extremes, and he never
married, so as to avoid committing the crime of being the
author of one human life. ' His father had sinned towards
him, but he had sinned towards no one.' Far above his age in
many subjects, and one of the few examples of a pure life
amid the general demoralisation, he yet could not escape from
the morose misogony to which all Oriental thinkers are so
prone. Buddha, and Mohammed, and other great Eastern
thinkers, are all imbued with despair at the folly and hollow-
ness of the world, and at the emptiness of human affairs.
Mohammed had a lighter tincture of this pessimism than his
great predecessors, for in him the statesman and the conqueror
also abided.
The scepticism and intellectual vigour of the citizen of
Bagdad did not prevent the continuance of the superstition of
the early ages, of the belief in the magic art, and of the fear
of evil spirits. Before the advent of Mohammed there had
existed the Djinns, who generally appeared in the form of
snakes. Shooting stars and meteors were supposed to be the
darts shot by angry angels at those snakes who were most
inquisitive and daring. There Avere also ghouls, who, wdiat-
ever form they might assume, always retained their asses' feet.
The Devil was an Islamic importation, and was given dominion
over all spirits. Such an ascendency the democratic Arab of
the pre-Mussulman period would never have accorded. The
idea of the Devil was borrowed by the Arabs from the Chris-
tian and Jewish religions.
' The Devil was not only considered as the evil one who led men
istray, and prevented them from performing good works, but he was
ilso regarded as a general marplot, whose delight it was to teaze and
irritate men on every possible occasion. If a slave let a cup fall,
Satan Avas cursed as the cause of the mishap. To this day if a pipe
s upset and the ashes scattered about the carpet, the host will cry out,
' Bassak ju malum'/' — enough for this time, thou cursed one.'
Flights of birds, as with the Romans, were supposed to be of
3rophetic import. Great terror was also created by the evil
;ye, and this fear is preserved to the present day. Amulets
md charms of all descriptions were adopted to avert the danger.
nG2 The Eiii})ire of the Challfs. April,
and many were the formulae invented to exorcise the evil effect.
Sprinklinp; with blood the object on whom it was feared the
evil eye mio;ht alight was a very old custom, and perhaps still
exists' in the habit of the present day of dyeing and staining
■with henna. Necromancers and wizards naturally appeared ;
and thouo-h Tslamism looked with disfavour upon them, their
activity could not be checked. There never was a persecution^
however, of magicians, as was the case with the witches during
the iSIiddle Ages of Eurojie, though conjurors were not always
so fortunate. It is related that a celebrated conjuror was ])er-
forming his great trick before a large crowd in Bagdad of
cutting off the head of a man and then replacing it. A pious
bystander was so eni'aged at this uncanny power that he drew
his sword and decapitated the conjuror on the spot. Astrology
was a late introduction, and this, Avith alchemy, did not appear
until some knowledge had been gained of their orthodox
parents, astronomy and chemistry.
It is scarcely necessary to refer to the mathematical victories
of the school of Bagdad, or to indicate for how much we of the
present day are indebted to them in this science. In medicine,
notwithstandino; the illustrious name of Avicenna, not so much
progress Avas made as might have been expected; but this Avas
probably oAving to the religious prohibition of anatomy. The
doctors were, however, a very highly-paid class. In phai'macy
the Arabs made certain discoveries, of AA'hich the terms syrup,,
jalap, &c., transmit the memory. AA'icenna's gigantic medical
encyclopaedia Avas a European text-book for many a century.
He attributed great importance to the healing poAvers of gold
and silver, and Herr von Kremer suggests that our practice of
covering pills with gold or silver may be a remnant of the
tradition. In geography, history, travels, romances, and all
the lighter class of literature, the Bagdad men of letters Avere
most prolific. They travelled much and collected materials from
every quarter. The Avork of Mokaddary (985 a.d.) is men-
tioned as a marvellous production, both on account of the
accuracy of its information and for the Avide range of subjects,
historical, gecgraphical, and ethnological, overAvhich it travels.
The favourite mode of giving instruction Avas for some Avell-
knoAvn professor to take his place in a mosque, and sitting doAvn
on his straAv mat, his back leaning against a pillar, he Avould
expound the Koran, or a philosophical work, or in fact any
subject Avith Avhich he Avas conversant, to his hearers standing
in a group around him. Instruction Avas gratis at first, but
soon it Avas found that the mosque lectures Avere not very
1882. The Empire of the Cludif.^. 363
profitable to the professors, and regular schools and academies
were opened.
We should like to have gone more deeply into the volumes
of Herr von Kremer, but the limits of a review compel us to
cease. This hasty and superficial resume of a vast subject
will be perhaps sufficient to induce the reader to study the
work itself. We can most heartily recommend it. We close
the volumes with regret, and with the feeling that we have
been brought into intimate relations with a little-known
period. The period, however brilliant and interesting, was
short. The weakness of the State was shown by the rapidity
with which it crumbled aAvay on the first onslaught of the
Mongol. For years the Chalifs lived on at Bagdad, the tools
and servants of the victorious Seljuk ; but the gentle minstrel,
the subtle dialectician, the keen scientific enquirer, the genial
man of letters, had passed away. The Ottoman has taken
the place of the Arab. With the zeal and fierce enthusiasm
of a convert, the Turk has borne the banner of the Prophet
into many lands ; he at one time had organised a state and an
army which far surpassed those of his European contempo-
raries; but, however brilliant may have been his victories,
hoAvever estimable may be some of his qualities, he has never
even approached to his Semitic predecessor in art, or science,
or literature ; in those studies which gilded the vices of the
Arab, and make us pass a lenient judgment on his errors,
which rendered Bagdad a bright light shining in the East,
foretelling the dawn in the grim darkness of early medieval
Europe.
3ti4 21ic ( 'oiiu'dies (if Terence. April,
Art. IV. — 1. F. Tcrenti Comcedia;. Edidit et apparatu critico
instruxit Fkanciscus Umpfenbach. Berolini : 1870.
2. F. Terenti Comoedicc. With Notes Critical and Exegetical,
an Introduction and Appendix, by Wilhelm Wagner,
Ph. D. Cambridge: 1869.
8. F. Terenti Ilavton Thnorrimenos. Erkltirt von Wilhelm
Wagner. Berlin : 1872.
4. Ausgewdhlte Komodien des F. Terentiiis Afer. Zur Ein-
fiihrung in die Lecture der altlateinischen Lustspiele, erklart
von Carl Dziatzko. Erstes Biindchen : Fhormio.
Leipzig: 1874.
5. Terenti Comcedioi, Andria ^ Eunuchus. With Intro-
duction on Prosody. By T. L. Papillon. London : 1870.
6. The Hautontimorximenos of Terence. With Introduction
and Notes. By E. Shugkburgh. London: 1878.
7. The Fhormio of Terence. With Notes and an Introduc-
tion. By Rev. John Bond and A. S. Walpole. Lon-
don: 1879.
rPnE comic poet Cascilius Statius had lived down the savage
opposition with which his innovations on the art and
method of his great predecessor Plautus had been assailed ;
and in the last year of his life, aided largely, if we may trust
the witness o1^ his successor, by the excellent acting of iVni-
bivius Turpio, the king of early Roman actors, he reigned
undis})uted monarch of tlie comic stage. Indeed, so firmly
established was his reputation that the rediles — the Lord
Chamberlains of the day — Avould refer to his judgment and
decision any new claimant for scenic honours. One day, as
Cfccilius was dining alone, there entered a stranger who stated
that he had been sent there by the adiles. He Avas a mere
youth, hardly perhaps turned sixteen, and shabbily dressed —
in fact, a freedman. His swarthy complexion and spare habit
betrayed his race : for no Italian Avas he, but one of those
Liby-Phoenician colonists who, themselves, without any ad-
mixture of Phoenician blood, had settled in the territories
surrounding the great Tyrian colony Carthage. Crecilius
somevihat contemptuously bade him take a seat at the foot of
his own couch and read the manuscript which he had brought
with him. The ill-clad youth, obeying these orders, at once
began to recite the comedy, a copy of which he held in his
hands. It was entitled the ' Gu'l of Andros,' and, like all
Roman dramas whose merit has enabled them to overcome the
1882. The Comedies of Terence. 365
wear and tear of time and to survive to our own day, was based
on the Greek of the Athenian so-called New Comedy, on a
play (rather two plays) of its typical exponent Menander.
But by a skilful combination of two Greek originals a more
substantial plot had been secured — a method by no means with-
out risk of intricacy and confusion to the careless writer, but
capable in skilled hands of sustaining the interest and enhanc-
ing the effect of a play.
Chremes and Phania are two brothers and Athenian citizens.
Chremes, having business in Asia (which represented ' the
Continent ' to Athenian and therefore to Roman audiences),
leaves his daughter Pasibula in the charge of his brother at
Athens. He, when civil dudgeon first grew high in Greece,
thought good to leave Athens and find the girl's father in Asia.
But, a storm arising, they are wrecked off the island of Andros,
and, being saved from the sea, are kindly entreated by a man
of the place. In course of time both Phania and the man of
Andros die, and Chrysis, the daughter of this latter, and Pasi-
bula, who has now changed her name to Glycerium, are like
to perish of hunger. So they sail to Athens, where, after
vainly trying honest means of livelihood, they become cour-
tesans. Pamphilus, the son of an Athenian citizen named
Simo, and a young fellow of promise, falls violently in love
with Glycerium, whom he promises to marry. But mean-
while his father has formed other schemes for his son's alliance,
and has in fact promised his hand to Philumena, another
daughter of Chremes. A mere accident betrays to him his
son's less reputable passion for the courtesan. For Chrysis
having died, and Glycerium in the depth of her despair hasten-
ing to throw herself also on the funeral pyre, the eager anxiety
with which young Pamphilus forces her to desist from her rash
intent opens the old man's eyes.
It is at this point that the action of the play opens. Simo,
the indulgent father, is brought on the stage conversing with
his freedman Sosia, the scene being, of course, as in all
the plays of Terence, laid at Athens — which to a Roman
was more or less what Paris is to us — and in the present
instance in the street in front of Simo's house. The citi-
zen begins by reminding Sosia of the kind treatment which
he has ever experienced at his hands, and asks for his co-
operation in the furtherance of a scheme which is to bring
matters to a climax, and so to a happy issue. Telling him the
whole story of the life of virtue and self-restraint Avhich his
son had for a long while lived, and that among company not
of the most virtuous or temperate, he discloses to him what
366 The Comedies of Terence. April,
Ave have above intimated, how at last his affections had been
won by a girl who was in no Avay a desirable connexion, and
liow, by his most unfortunate and ill-timed display of that
love, lie had nipped in the bud all his father's hopes, and the
arrangements which promised so Avell, and were so near to
their fulfilment. Simo proceeds to give his freedman a graphic
account of the funeral of Chrysis — this girl of Andros from
whom the play gets its name, and who, nevertheless, is dead
before its action commences — and of the casual way in which
his own eyes had been opened to his son's ardent love for
Glycerium. The wealthy Chremes, moved by the good report
Avhicli he heard of the young man Pamphilus, had actually a
short time previously come to his father, and had offered to
give the son his only daughter, together with a large dowry.
The match was highly desirable, and the betrothal had already
taken place, the very day on which the play opens having been
fixed for the maiTiage itself. Sosia, who has already learned,
to his astonishment, that this bridal is but a pretence and strata-
gem on the part of Simo, in order either to give him grounds
for upbraiding his son, or to bring that son to a better mind,
asks what fatal obstacle stands in the way of its consummation.
Si. You shall hear. In the course of these last few days in which
these things have happened Chrysis, o\w neighbour, has died.
So. Good I you've made me quite happy. Ah, I feared some evil
of Chrysis.
Si. ]\Iy son was at the time in company with those Avho had been
lovers of Chrysis; he was constantly with them. With them he saw
to the funeral arrangements ; in the meantime was gloomy, and some-
times even shed tears. This pleased me then, for thus I took it : " He
takes so to heart this death on account of a slight acquaintance, Avbat
if he had himself loved? What will he do for me, his father ? " I
looked upon it as the result of a generous disposition and kindly mind.
Why delay you with a long story ? I, too, to please him, attend the
funeral, even yet suspecting nothing wrong.
So. Ha ! Avhat is it ?
Si. You shall knoAv. The body is brought forth ; on Ave move.
In the meauAvhile, among the women present I chance to see one very
young, of a form
So. Excellent, no doubt.
Si. Aye, Sosia ; and Avith a face so modest, so beauteous, that
nothing could surpass it. As she appeared to mourn more than the
rest, and because she had beyond the rest the beauty of an honour-
able gentlewoman, I approach the lackeys and ask who she is. They
tell me she is the sister of Chrysis. At once it struck me, " Aha ! this
is it; herein lies the source of those tears and of that tenderness."
So. IIoAv I dread the drift of your Avords!
Si. The funeral procession meanwhile moves on. We follow. We
1882. The Comedies of Terence. 367
are at the grave ; she is set on the funeral fire ; all weep. Meanwhile
this sister I mentioned went recklessly up to the flame with danger
enough. Then Pamphilus by his fright betrays the love he had so
well cloaked and hidden. Up he runs, and embracing her waist, " My
Glycerium," cries he, "what are you doing? why will you destroy
yourself? " Then she, to let you easily see that the love was of old
standing, threw herself, quite as a lover would, weeping into his arms.
So. What say you ?
Si. I return home cross and chafing, yet have not sufficient grounds
for scolding. He would say, " Why, what have I done ? what wrong,
what sin have I committed, father ? I kept her back when she wished
to throw herself into the fire, and saved her." The pleading is
specious.
So. You are right. For if you scold him for saving her life, what
more could you do to one who caused you loss and injury?
Si. Next day Chremes comes to me crying shame, saying that he
has heard that Pamphilus has this foreigner to wife. I strenuously
deny that it is so ; he insists that it is. In the end I part from him
knowing that he will not give his daughter.
So. Didn't you then and there scold your son ?
Si. Not even here were grounds strong enough to justify me.
So. How so ?
Si. " You yourself, father, laid down the limit for these things.
The time is at hand when I must live at another's whim ; let me in the
meantime live at my own."
So. What room indeed is left for scolding ?
Si. If on account of his love he shall be unwilling to marry another
wife, then and not till then have Ave an injury on his part to notice.
And now this is my endeavour — to get, by means of a pretended
wedding, real groimds for scolding in case of his refusal, while at the
same time, if that scoundrel Davus has any scheme on, let him exhaust
it now while its devices do no harm. He, I believe, will work hard
hand and foot, and this too rather to annoy me than to oblige my son.
So. Why?
Si. Do you ask why ? His mind is evil, his disposition bad. But
if I see him — yet why say more ? If it turns out, as I hope, that
Pamphilus presents no obstacle, Chremes alone remains for me to win
over ; and I hope things will go well. Now, it is for you carefully to
keep up the trick of the wedding, to frighten Davus, to watch what my
son does, and what counsel he takes with that other fellow.
So. It is well ; I will see to it. Now let us go in.
Si. Go on ; I will follow.'
Such was the scene which the young poet read to Cascilius ;
and the old man saw that here was no poetaster, no ordinary
dramatic writer, rather that before him sat one destined to
succeed himself in his post of laureate. This he saw, and as
the reading went on and the beauty of the play increased, at
length, overcome by emotion, he bade the shabby freedman
leave the humble stool to which he had been consigned, and
368 The Comedies of Terence. April,
sit at tabic with himself. No doubt he rejoiced to see that
there was one worthy to take upon him his own mantle and a
double portion of his spirit, who would continue his task of
educatinp; the yet rude Roman audience into something that
resembled an appreciation of art."^^
Terence, the young poet, had been either born a captive or
enslaved at a very early period of his life. The Roman
historian, indeed, Fenestella, the contemporary of Horace and
Virgil, argued that he could not have been a captive, born as
he Avas after the conclusion of the second and before the
beginning of the third Punic War ; urging that had he been
taken prisoner by Numidians or Gastulians he would not have
fallen into the hands of a Roman general, since no intercourse
sprang up between the Africans and Italians until after the
destruction of Carthage, several years after the death of
Terence. But it is impossible to suppose that in their wars
with Carthage the Romans came into no contact with the
neighbouring tribes, some of whom siding with Rome would
in all probability have Carthaginian prisoners to dispose of.
Be this as it may, Terence, at all events, fell into the hands of
a good and liberal master, Publius Terentius Lucanus, who
procured for him a good general education and, in especial,
had him taught Greek. For now was being consummated
that bloodless, indeed, yet none the less real and important
revolution by which ' captive Greece was to take prisoner her
' stern captor,' by which Greek art was to civilise, Greek vices
to ruin Rome. The Italian camence, heavy of foot and slow of
* Mr. Grove tells us in his charming biography of Felix Mendels-
sohn iu the ' Dictionary of Music and Musicians,' that when that
gifted artist entered the University of Berlin, probably in 1826, when
he -was in his seventeenth year, he sent in for his matriculation a
translation in verse of the ' Andria' of Terence, Avhich had also served
as a birthday present to his mother. It is added that the trans-
lation, which still exists, is precise and elegant, and corresponding
closely with the original both in rhythm and metre. This was the
first attempt to render Terence into German in his own metres. This
is a very curious and interesting anecdote. Can anything be more
extraordinary than that the Liby- Phoenician boy who had produced at
sixteen a Avork of immortal \vit and pathos, in language of exquisite
purity and art, should find about two thousand years later another
Semitic-German boy of his own age to translate such a work, and that
this young student should also be the most enchanting musician of his
age ? The incident suggests more reflections than we have room to
commit to paper ; but it indicates amongst other things that in Mendels-
sohn there was an abundant vein of the finest comedy, as was well
known to those Avho enjoyed his friendship.
1882. The Comedies of Terence. 369
Aving, were to give place to their brilliant cousins who dwelt
on the Aonian heights and drank of the Heliconian rill. Save
in the Satura — ' hodge-podge ' clearly enough by its name
indicates its nationality — the cameiKB appear little more, and
then are confounded with the muses. Some two hundred
years later the satirist Juvenal complained bitterly of the all-
pervading Greek ; but as yet, while Rome Avas still compara-
tively poor, the results were almost unmixed good.
If this tale, which introduces Terence reading his ' Girl of
' Andros ' to Caecilius, be true, then for some reason or other,
wdiich it is impossible for us even to conjecture, Terence had
no opportunity of introducing his play for many months to the
Roman public : at any rate, it was not acted for at least
another year. At length, however, the asdiles give the
required assent, and Ambivius Turpio is engaged as chief
actor. The success was immediate and great. The delighted
audience followed with eager attention the fortunes of Pam-
philus and Glycerium, and learnt of their marriage with keen
pleasure and loud applause ; while the set of young nobles,
usually known (from their centre and head Scipio Africanus
the younger) as ' the Scipionic circle,' welcomed the poet to
their party as a valuable and influential ally. Terence was
now recognised as the leader of the comic stage.
Yet it must not be supposed that he had no enemies. An
opposition, rather loud and malevolent than dangerous, was
headed by an ' old poet,' who relied for effect upon extravagant
burlesque and pompous declamation, and not upon witty dia-
logue or comic humour, Luscius Lanuvinus (or Lavinius, for
his very name is uncertain), of whom we know nothing but
that he wrote plays entitled ' Phasma ' and ' Thensauros,'
translated servilely from the Greek, was this old snarler whom
Terence, in five out of his six prologues, vigorously assails.
From these prologues (in themselves veritable mines of
judicious criticism on literature in general, on dramatic litera-
ture in particular) we gain a good idea of the sins which were
laid to Terence's charge ; and as all his six plays are preserved
to us in a text sufficiently reliable, we have the further advan-
tage, which we have also in reading the indictment of Demo-
sthenes by ^schines together with its refutation, of being able
to form an opinion as to the fairness or unfairness of these
animadversions.
Heading the list was the ' Contamination,' — the above-men-
tioned combination of two Greek plays to form but one. Now
this is clearly a difficult and critical task. Given ever so little
negligence, and hopeless confusion alike in the plot as in the
370 The Cowcdiea of Terence. April,
cliaractcrs will inevitably result. But in the hands of so skilful
an artist as Terence it serves but to enrich, not to entangle. One
passage in particular has been jjointed out by Professor Wag-
ner as illustrating the weak point of ' Contamination.' In the
first act of his play entitled the ' Brothers,' Terence intro-
duces the young man Tl^^schinus as having already torn away
a music girl from her master's house and beaten the master,
and yet in the next scene the quarrel was still going on. But
an exactly similar fault was committed by Plautus in his
* Captives,' when Philocrates goes from ^tolia to Elis and
back, a distance of almost a hundred miles, with a man whose
liberation he had meanwhile to procure, all in the course of a
few hours. Even Ladewig has almost retracted his charge of
contamination against Plautus. Similarly Sophocles brings
together in one coup cVceil ' Argos, Mycenaj, and the Herreum,'
a modern French dramatist no less freely Richmond, AVest-
niinster Abbey, and the Tower of London. These are, in fact,
instances, and the list could be indefinitely increased, of the
license in Avhich playwrights feel themselves at liberty to
indulge.
In the second place, these injudicious critics complained of
the poverty of his style and the tameness of his characters.
Accustomed as they were to hear actors mouth ranting bom-
bast, they knew not (how should they ?) Horace's wholesome
rule that a comic scene should not be given in verses suitable
for tragedy. To their taste ' there were no sallets in the lines
' to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that
' might indict the author of affectation.'
Thirdly, they accused Terence of unfair borrowing, and
that in two Avays. Under the smart of jealousy and wounded
vanity they alleged not only that he stole from Plautus and
other previous comedians, but that he received undue help
from certain nobles — that, in point of fact, the plays were not
his own. On each head the indictment failed. On the former
accusation his answer was, especially from the Roman stand-
j)oint, complete: on the latter he left the question open.
There is, nevertheless, no doubt Avhatever that his work is in
the main his own. Help from his noble friends he may have
had, probably did have; but the absence of striking in-
equalities in the literary execution of his six plays, regarded
as a whole, is on such a point decisive, and shows how insig-
nificant such help must have been. It is indeed hard to
undei-stand how a foreigner, especially one so young, acquired
so thorough, yet so delicate, a grasp of the Latin tongue in all
its intricacies and idioms, as to dispute Avith Cicero and Cajsar
1882. The Comedies of Terence. 371
the palm for purity of style. And yet, if the production of
the ' Girl of Andros ' at the early age of sixteen be regarded as
an instance of unnatural precocity, we must bear in mind other
well- authenticated instances of a like nature. Pope wrote
at twenty the ' Essay on Criticism,' a work which justifies
Dr. Johnson's loud pi-aises when he says that it ' exhibits
* every mode of excellence that can embellish or dignify
' didactic composition — selection of matter, novelty of arrange-
' ment, justness of precept, splendour of illustration, and pro-
* priety of digression.' Many too will recall Chatterton,
' The marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perisli'd in his pride ; '
Pico della Mirandola, who at the age of twenty-three chal-
lenged the learned world of Europe ; the sculptor Antonio
Canova, Avho before his fourteenth year had designed his group
of Orpheus and Eurydice ; the painter Adrian Brauwer, who,
at the age of ten and self-taught, aroused the wonder of the
veteran Hals ; Mozart, who had before his seventh birthday
not only composed a harpsichord concerto, but had methodi-
cally and correctly written it down. Above all, the extra-
ordinary prodigy,"^ Christian Heinrich Heinecken, this child,
when he was but three years old, spoke French and Latin,
besides his native tongue ; at the age of four, then already
well read in geography, history, and even theology, appeared
before the King of Denmark at Copenhagen, and pronounced
a Latin speech before the assembled Court, and literally, like
Mr. Gilbert's Precocious Baby, * died an enfeebled old dotard
' at five ! '
Yet a fourth charge was brought against our poet, and that
of a serious nature. It was alleged that he had entered the
profession of a dramatic writer without a proper qualifying
education ; and it has been proposed that the visit to Greece
which brought about his death originated in a determination
by a closer study of the Greek tongue, now universal and neces-
sary, to gain further success in his profession. This charge
arose in the main from a misapprehension of Terence's aim.
He wished to produce, and did produce, not a servile, but a
racy and idiomatic version of his Greek prototypes : his work
was certainly to be a more or less faithful mirror of the
original, but none the less a work of art capable of standing
or falling by its own merits.
* Allgemeine Encyclopiidie der Wissenschaften und Kunst, Leipzig,
1829 Cs-v. 'Heinecken').
VOL. CLV. NO. CCCXVIII. C C
372 The Comedies of Terence. April,
AVlth regard to the nobles who are said to have helped
Terence, identification is difficult. A current rumour made
Scipio the writer of a whole scene in the ' Self-Tormentor,'
and tlic Komans of the Augustan and succeeding ages coii-
hdcntly mentioned Lielius and other members of the brilliant
Scipionic circle as the persons whom contemporary criticism
intended. But when we look into ages and dates this theory
falls to the ground. Terence, in his prologue to the ' Brothers,'
describes these nobles as having often served the Roman people
by distinguished services in the field and State. Now at this
time (the year of the city 594, or perhaps earlier) neither
Ltelius nor Scipio was much more than twenty-five years of
age, and at twenty-five a Roman had very few, if any, chances
of greatly distinguishing himself either in war or in peace.
Perhaps, then, Santra, the Roman grammarian, is right in
urging the claims of Gains Sulpicius Gallus, of Quintus
Fabius Labeo, and Marcus Popillius, the first of whom Avas
an accomplished scholar and astronomer, the last two both
consulars and poets, and of all of whom it might justly be said
that the people had had experience of their ' conduct in war,
' in ])eace, and State business.'
The following year Terence brought on the stage an adapta-
tion of a play by the Carystian Apollodorus, Avith a commence-
ment borrowed from Menander. The occasion was the cele-
bration of the Megaleusian games in honour of Cybele, the
Great Mother, Avhose cult had some years before been trans-
planted from Asia into Rome. The play itself Avas quite the
least interesting of all those of Terence ; and, as it most un-
luckily fell out, Lentulus and Flaccus, aa^io, as curule aidiles,
Avere the curators of the sacred games, had provided other
amusements far more congenial to the Roman taste. The
* Mother-in-LaAV ' had hardly begun AA'hen the audience rushed
off pell-mell to look at a rope-dancer Avho Avas just then all the
rage, and Avithout an audience the play could not proceed ;
and, as if this AA'ere not enough, five years later a similar
misfortune overtook the same piece.
The j)osition of a dramatic poet at Rome Avas indeed suf-
ficiently awlvAvard, and very striking the contrast between on
the one hand the rough-and-tumble Roman farmer Avho, as
ignorant as the day Avas long, Avas as narrow-minded as one
could possibly be, Avho had no thought outside the charmed circle
of ' the city ' and his farm, AA'hose very religion was doAvnright
business ; and on the other the quick Athenian Avho could take
a hint Avhen sloAver men Avould need the Avhole — ' for the house
' is clever,' said Aristophanes, perhaps the cleverest of theni
1882. The Comedies of Terence. 373
all. Small room for wonder that in the one case rope-dancers
and prize-fighters proved a stronger charm than the chaste muse
of Terence.
But he was not easily discouraged. The next year, as
Wagner very plausibly suggests, saw a second performance of
the ' Girl of Andros,' this time with the addition of a prologue,
the tone of which indicates the violent nature of the opposition
which the reactionary party, headed by the old reviler,
directed against Terence. It is annoying that a prologue
should be used, not for the elucidation of the plot, but for
purposes merely polemical ; but the guilt lay at the door of
those who had provoked the quarrel, not of those who, beino-
attacked, defended themselves.
Accordingly the next year after the first unfortunate appear-
ance of the ' Mother-in-Law,' and also at the Megalensian
games, appeared his third play, the ' Self-Tormentor.' A
father has been over-severe to his son's shortcomings, and
thus driven him to enlist in the service of the Persian king ;
the scene being, as we must carefully remember, laid at
Athens, where young good-for-nothings would often find such
enlistment the readiest means of escape from a more un-
pleasant alternative. But now that the son is driven aAvay
the father feels the pricks of acute remorse at having behaved
so inconsiderately : ' As long as he shall be leading that
* straitened life of his, deprived of his fatherland by my
* acts of harshness, all that time I will be perpetually punish-
* ing myself for him by working, making money, pinching,
' slaving for him.' This resolve is faithfully and rigidly kept.
After some more or less strained scenes, yet with great sobriety
of treatment, Terence brings all things right. The son comes
home, and his mistress is of course found to be an Athenian
citizen of good birth, and in the present case the daughter of
a dear friend and neighbour.
The next year but one (the year of the city 593) was a
brilliant one for our poet. The ' Eunuch ' was exhibited at
the Megalensian games in April ; at the Boman games in
September the ' Phormio.' The success of the former play
was great ; it was acted on two successive days,* and
earned, we are told, a price, unprecedented then at Bome, of
8,000 sesterces, or about 60Z. sterling. And it deserved its
success. The plot is at the same time clear, interesting, and
varied ; the dialogue clever and lively, with a swing that
* Following Ritschl's reading o£ a passage of Suetonius, p. 503.
374 The Comedies of Terence. Apnl,
irresistibly carried its aucHence away. Its attractive sparkle
allured even the half-civilised Koman not only to listen
patiently to it till the entrance of the actor at the end with his
request for applause — and how rare even this was m 
