Their case of an Truckler. Then you doubt the statement of Ministers? Holdfast. They have presented no statement. extraordinary emergency is not made out. Truckler. It is rested on notoriety, and the evidence of numerous cases. Holdfast.-Notoriety and the evidence of numerous cases. What selfconfuting terms are these! Did the notoriety need the cases, or the cases need the notoriety, to eke out the proof? If you rest your statement that the Thames runs through London on the notoriety, I may say, Agreed; but if you shew me the kennel under this window, and say, There is the river, I tell you that your position is not proved. Ireland may be in the state alleged; but we have better proof against it than for it. Mr. Barrington's evidence is of greater weight than Lord Althorp's or Mr. Stanley's string of cases. Nevertheless, I believe Ire. land to be in a sufficiently bad state to call for instant remedies; and for new remedies,-not the old steel treatment that has been long tried, and with long failure. Truckler. What would you have? Holdfast.-Impartial administration of the laws, for one thing. Holdfast.-By a Bench and Magistracy of Englishmen. Truckler.-Ha! ha! Do you think the Irish would bear that Bench ? What an outcry there would be! Holdfast. There can be no louder outcry than that against this Bill; and you don't seem to be much moved by outcries, or to trouble yourself much how the Irish will bear whatever may be proposed for their coercion. I can tell you, too, that English Magistrates are popular wherever they have been appointed. Truckler. It's all mighty fine talking; but something must be done. Holdfast.-There, again; "Something must be done." There is your monotone against mine. Something must be done-Tyranny-Something must be done-Tyranny! Something must be done presently by us. We cannot sit over this dinner-table for ever; but that is no rea.. son that I should cut your throat with this dessert knife, though that energetic measure would for ever settle your postulate that Something must be done, and leave you nothing to do. Truckler. A joke is not an argument. Holdfast. My good fellow, the whole of your argument is a joke. You assume a certain case; and you assume that a certain measure must remedy it, because a remedy is necessary. Truckler. You know I have always been a good Radical; but it is a case of great difficulty. I really don't know what to think. Holdfast. You don't know what to think!-and for that precise reason it is, that you approve of the Bill? Truckler.-(Emphatically)-Something must be done! And so it goes on. THIS must be done, because Something must be done. Voila tout. I have in no degree exaggerated the niaiserie. It is what I hear every hour in the day. It makes one blush to think, that when the very same people held a gabble, not a whit more reasonable, in favour of the Reform Bill, we valued their opinions as sanctioning the measure. The process of reasoning, if so it may be called, in the minds of the authors of this equally atrocious and stupid project, is most remarkable. They will tell us that the Constitution provides all the best instruments of government; and, in a case of difficulty, they propose to fling away the best instruments of government, and take to the rudest. This is as if a surgeon, in a perilous operation, were to reject his appropriate instruments for a woodman's tools. It is pretty well known, [We hope this is only rumour.-E. T. M.] that the author of the most obnoxious measures of coercion is that honest and consistent personage, whose head so whimsically decorates the cover of your Magazine. Lord Brougham, in the Cabinet, was the strenuous advocate of the courts-martial; and to his head, as full of crotchets as a fig is full of seeds, we are indebted for that ingenious argument, that the greater the infraction of the Constitution, the greater the safety of it, the greater the invasion of liberty, the better the security against abuse-So that, proceeding according to the same course of argument, for the completest safety of the Constitution, it should be suspended altogether. You may work the question by the rule of three. If so much encroachment gives so much security, what will so much more encroachment give? A little despotism, quoth Lord Brougham, is a dangerous thing-Drink deep, or taste not. Looking at what is proposed, with relation to the principles on which it is proposed, the measure is most awkwardly and inadequately shaped. Take the courts-martial for example. Every one at all acquainted with these tribunals, knows perfectly well, that the opinion of the senior officer governs the Court. Why then withdraw from their necessary duty or necessary pleasures, five, six, seven, or eight gentlemen, who will be guided by the judgment of the one in authority over them? Why not simplify the thing, and make the commanding officer sole judge and jury? It comes to the same thing, and without losing the military services of half-a-dozen judicial cyphers. After this, the thing allows of another improvement. With respect to people of the unpopu. larity of the Irish, there is a current saying, "I would hang them first and try them afterwards." Consistently with the genius of the project, this sentiment might be acted upon as a principle; and with much advantage to humanity, as well as in improvement of that summary justice on which Lord Brougham so much relies; as he may well do, being an Equity Judge, and having to do with sempiternal proceedings:-Optat ephippia bos. The commanding officer has the decision in his power, without any judicial qualification for the guidance of it. To set him to the business of a trial, would be like setting a ploughman to a chemical experiment. The only effect of a trial will be to put the military judge out of patience and out of temper. Dispense, then, with the mockery altogether. Let the Captain or Major COME, SEE, and SEN. TENCE. Let him look at the accusation, and pronounce the punishment. In many cases, as he, or his brethren of the sword, will have preferred the accusation, the convenience of this short and easy method will be extraordinarily great. Much irritation of mind will thus be avoided. When men see one against whom they have a prejudice, endeavouring to evade conviction, all the bile rises in their breast. The effort to escape, the idea that escape is possible, makes the party trebly odious. The unpractised judge frets and fumes, and chafes at the impudence of the prisoner; and when he comes into his hands for sentence, he lays on without stint or mercy. If a dog (the nearest case to a parallel) misbehaves, and the master call him to his feet; and Cæsar obediently come, wriggling and twisting, rentre à terre, and throw him self down, belly upwards, with tongue lolling out, under the uplifted stick -the man will take him by the nape of the neck, and smite with some measure and mercy; but if, on the other hand, the dog attempt to fly from chastisement, with his tail between his legs, the master lays hold of the nearest stone, and shies it with all his might at his head; and he pursues him, puffing curses as he runs; and when he catches him, he thrashes him till his arm aches, and fills his ears with his howls. The punishment is, in these cases, as the mathematicians would say, as the square of the distance of the pursuit. I would not offer so great an offence to British society as to ask for Irishmen the treatment of men. I know the world too well to make any such proposition. But I hope I am not presuming too much, in intreating for them a treatment which may bear some analogy to the treatment of dogs. And, therefore, I say, if you give the man of war the stick over them, avoid the irritation of their endeavours to escape. Let him do at first, without heat of mind, what he will do at last with heat of mind. Investigation is not his art, patience is not his forte. Impiger, acer, iracundus; the trial will be only a trial of his temper. For mercy's sake, then, let him punish without a trial. It will be the same thing as to evidence, and better for equanimity and clemency. A LOOKER-ON. POSTSCRIPT. THE numerous Petitions presented against the Irish Coercion Bill, and the opposition of some of their usual supporters, have compelled Ministers to make important modifications on the Bill. Ensigns of two years standing are not now to be allowed to sit in judgment on the liberties of Irishmen, but only Officers not under the rank of Captain. Unanimity in their judgment is also required where there are no more than five members of the Court-martial; when there are seven, five at least must agree; and when there are more than seven, then seven must concur in the judgment. These Courts are not to have any jurisdiction in political offences; and Ministry have, in some measure, pledged themselves that the Bill shall not be employed to enforce the payment of Tithes. The clause empowering two Justices to convict, by a summary taial, persons charged with attending illegal meetings, is withdrawn, and such cases are left to be dealt with by the ordinary tribunals. The Tories assert, with some degree of justice, that these modifications have destroyed the efficacy of the Bill; and it is indeed difficult to see what is the use of establishing new tribunals in Ireland, which can neither try capital crimes, if they are to be punished in an adequate manner, nor political offences of any sort, nor enforce the collection of Tithes, for surely, for all other purposes, the ordinary tribunals of the country are sufficient. Indeed, the result of the Kilkenny assizes has shewn that there is no difficulty in obtaining in that so-called disturbed district, either the attendance of Jurymen, or convictions. That attendance, Mr. Stanley tells us, arises from the desire of the Jurors to thwart the measure; but if the Jurors who belong to the higher classes of society, are so far from wishing for the protection of the Bill, that they would rather expose themselves to the dangers of convicting the Whitefeet, than allow it to pass, can there be a stronger proof that the Bill is uncalled for, and that the imposing of it on Ireland, is a mere act of despotism, which the Irish are entitled, and indeed bound by every prin. ciple of patriotism to resist, by every legal means? LITERARY REGISTER. PICTURES OF PRIVATE LIFE. By Sarah Stickney.* * THESE pictures are charming, natural stories of the real, living world; and of the kind which we rejoice to see the public beginning to appreciate and relish; there are here no bandits and buccaneers, remorseful hypocondriacs, harum-scarum geniuses, and devoted heroines, "just not mad." In their stead we have the ordinary temptations of foolish ambition, the struggles of passion; the delusions and evils of life as they exist, and must be combated and repressed, or endured and expiated, delineated in simple, and often beautiful language, and with a powerful moral effect. The first, and longest tale, "The Hall and the Cottage," is a corrective of misplaced ambition in young women, and of those erring estimates of life which young persons of talent and genius are the most apt to form. Anna, the heroine, is well depicted; but her friend Mary is a model of true heroic virtue. Shall we give the winding up of the long romance of Anna Clare, a maiden of humble descent, but possessed of great abilities and self-acquired accomplishments, who had strayed from wisdom and happiness, and would have been lost and wrecked, save for one guardian angel, the simple-hearted, single-minded friend of her youth. The Lord Carrisbrooke mentioned, had been the object of Anna's youthful idolatry, and of her soaring, unchastised, irrational hopes of distinction. "She was looking out, when the solemn sound of a passing-bell fell upon her ear -she shuddered and turned within. In the twilight she could just perceive that some one, approached. It was Mary, who came with the tidings that Lord Carrisbrooke was dead. In an instant, Anna was restored to her better self. That sudden and awful sound, and the unexpected appearance of her who had so often stood beside her as a guardian angel, bringing a silent reproof where none was spoken; the stillness of the hour, and the recollections of the past, all mingling together, might have overpowered a spirit more hardened and perverse than Anna's. "Mary,' said she, laying her hand upon the arm of her friend, there is one duty which we have never, since the days of our infancy, performed together, except in public. Let us kneel down in this quiet chamber, and enter into a fresh covenant with our Heavenly Father, that we will drink of the cup which he has poured out for us, even though it should be gall and bitterness. That we will walk in the path which he has pointed out, though it should pierce our feet with thorns; and that we will never turn away, nor be unfaithful to his service, though we know that it requires us to give up all and follow him.' And, then, from her eloquent lips, and overflowing heart, she poured forth her gratitude and praise to that Being who had thus far conducted her through the wilderness; who had borne with her spiritual idolatries, who had given her a friend as a faithful guide, and whom she now implored to look down from his habitation in the heavens, upon the weakest worm of his creation. "Bound by fresh ties of more than earthly union, the two friends had knelt together; together they arose; and the embrace with which they separated that night, was warm and pure, as in the days of their first love. "Her feeble steps recalled from their slight wandering, her good resolutions confirmed after their short lapse, Anna Clare went onward in the path of duty; for she had learned to mistrust herself, and consequently to shun temptation. And having found how incompatible with true happiness is the gratification of vanity or ambition, she confined her hopes and wishes, and even her laudable desire to be of use, within the humble sphere in which her lot was cast. Smith and Elder, London: Pp. 348. VOL. III.NO. XIII. I "On the reading of Lord Carrisbrooke's will, it was discovered that he had bequeathed the sum of one thousand pounds to the artist who painted his portrait; and with this sum, added to the well-earned reward of her daily labours, Anna contrived not only to maintain a respectable and genteel appearance, but often to comfort the distressed, and supply the wants of the needy. "Gentle reader, forgive the writer of this story, that she has no better fate in store for her heroine, even in the season of the first grey hair,' than that of a respected and respectable old maid; not a fretful, fuming thing, of false ringlets, and false smiles, but a woman of delicate and tender feeling; of calm dignity, and unbounded benevolence; who mourned no longer that earth afforded her no object, or rather no idol, on which she might lavish the warm feelings of an affectionate heart; for she had learned to pour forth into a thousand channels, that charity, which suffereth long and is kind.' "Alas! to the rescue of Anna Clare from the shades of vulgar oblivion, there came no belted knight, no steel-clad warrior; no prince in disguise discovered her to be the alien daughter of his house; nor did a superannuated nabob make her the heiress of an Indian fortune; but she continued to dwell in the home of her friend, and though highly gifted with those qualities, which might reasonably attract the attention of the wealthy and the noble, she never ventured beyond her own lowly sphere, but was content to remain, where she had not only the wish, but the power to bless." ELLEN ESKDALE, the second story, is that of thousands of lovely and naturally amiable young creatures, living as they of the world live, and dying as they die; one of those, in the words of the authoress, who pass from the cradle to the grave without once inquíring for what purpose they have been sent to trace their little journey of experience upon this earth. The CURATE'S WIDOw, is an amiable story, tending to shew the power of piety in assuaging sorrow; in making the heart of the desolate to sing; and MARRIAGE, AS IT MAY BE, concludes the volume. A lady more daring than wise, first flirts with a lively good-tempered boy, and next forms the ambitious design of converting him. ness. "To save a soul from sin," as she flatters herself, she throws away her own happiHer young husband obtains orders; but first we have the honey. moon, spent among mountains and moonlight lakes in Cumberland. Thus early she is permitted to wander forth alone with Milton, and indulge in rapturous speculation, and poetic visions; the bridegroom carousing in the Inn with an old college friend. Now, there is a time for every thing; yet, as the world goes, and even as it ought to go, some persons will infer that the wife was more fastidious, than prudent and indulgent, with her pupil and convert, even at the outset. From all that was lovely in Nature, and exalted in mind, she is suddenly transferred to a dining-room that had not been opened for three hours after dinner; and that on a Sabbath afternoon, after sailing on the Lake, and reading Milton," vainly expecting to be joined by her truant husband in one half-hour. But there he sat with his college friend, who, to make matters worse, was the son of a London silk-mercer, who bore about with him the certificate of his pedigree stamped upon his countenance," in which one might even see "his father, the keen tradesman, glancing over his ledger;" (a very proper employment, too, we should think ;) " and his aunts and cousins running from house to house, collecting receipts for sweet cakes, and home-made wines," (in which there is no great harm either.) The husband "had a flushed and dizzy look; not certainly intoxicated,-he would have been horror-struck at the thought-but with all that was most gross and despicable in his nature laid bare upon his brow." He declared, like a rogue, that he had been ten times down to the water to look for his wife, winking knowingly to his companion, as if he said. That's the way to manage a wife.'" We do fear that poor wives are doomed to endure even worse than this oc 66 |