"on the watery plainThe wrecks are all thy deed."
"on the watery plainThe wrecks are all thy deed."
That is to say, peace, happiness, beauty, nowhere! Man wrecks up to the shore. There the tables are turned upon him. There the sea ravages the land, and wrecks him in return. Merciful Heaven! nothing but wrecking; as if evil spirits only possessed the universe—as if the only question to be asked any where were, Who wrecks here?
Is not this a glaring instance of a false intellectual procedure arising out of a false moral temper? The unceasing call of the Hymn is for the display of the subject extolled. And here the beautiful, or the proud superiority of the "peaceful, immeasurable plain," or of the indignant, independent, thundrous sea, was imperiously suggested for some moments surely, if the Poem be one of glorification. But no! We may imagine for ourselves, if we please, the beauty, splendour, joy, tempestuous liberty of the unfettered waters; but the love of the ocean is not in the Poet's mind, as it ought to have been—only the hate of man.
As it ought to have been? Yea, verily. Had he not taken the pledge? To drink but of the purest spring of inspiration—the Fount of Love. And may he, without reproach, break it when he chooses, and we not dare to condemn? Of all promises, the promise made by poet of world-wide fame before the wide world, in his soul's best mood, and in nature's noblest inspiration, is the most sacred—tobreak it is a sin, and a sin that brings its appropriate punishment along with it,—loss or abeyance of the faculty divine. Byron had sworn to love man and nature, and to glorify their works, on the very instant he seeks to degrade and vilify. We listen to a religious overture—to the Devil's March. We are invited to enter with him a temple of worship—and praise and prayer become imprecations and curses. It is as if a hermit, telling his beads at the door of his cell, retired into its interior to hold converse with a blaspheming spirit. Fear not to call it by its right name—this is Hypocrisy.
So much as to the fitness of the mood; now as to the truth of the matter.
What is, justly considered, the relation of man to the sea? Is it here truly spoken? Certainly not. The Facts and the Songs of the world are all the other way. In history, the ocean is the giant slave of the magician Man—with some difficulty brought under thraldom—humorous, and not always manageable—mischievous when he gets his own way. But compare statistically the service and the detriment, for Clio must instruct Calliope and Erato. Passion that cannot sustain itself but by hiding that which has been, and accrediting that which has not been, is personal, not poetical—is mad, not inspired. The truth is, that the Ship is the glory of man's inventive art and inventive daring—the most splendid triumph of heroical art. And—for the history of man—the service of the sea to his ship has been the civilising of the earth. The wrecks are occasional—so much so that, in our ordinary estimate, they are forgotten. It would be as good poetry to say that all the inhabitants of the land live by wrecking.
In this first movement or strain, then, two great relations upheld by man are put in question,—his relation to the land, and his relation to the sea. The Basis of Song to the true and great poet is the truth of things—the truth as the historian and the philosopher know them. Over this he throws his own affection and creates a truth of his own—a poetical truth. But the truth, as held in man's actual knowledge, is recognisable through the transparent veil. Here it is distorted, not veiled. The two relations are alike falsified. For in order to bring man into conflict with the sea, where he and not the sea is to be worsted, he must first be made the foe of the earth! "Man marks the earth with ruin." Is this the history of man on the earth? Man has vanquished the Earth, but for its benefit as well as his own. He has displaced the forest and the swamp, the wild beast and the serpent. He has adorned the earth like a bride; as if he had made captive a wild Amazon, charmed her with Orphean arts, wedded and made her a happy mother of many children. Whatever impressive effect such verses may have on the inconsiderate mind, it has been illegitimately attained by a preposterous and utterly unprovoked movement of tempestuous passion, and by two utterly false contemplations of man's posture upon the globe, which two embrace about his whole mortal existence. Eloquence might condescend to this—poetry never.
Note well, O Neophyte! that the calm, contemplative, loving first line,
"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean! roll!"
"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean! roll!"
precludes all comparison with such sudden bursts as "Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!" &c., and "Quousque tandem abutêre, Catilina," &c.; but it does not preclude, it invites the killing comparison with
"O Thou that with surpassing glory crown'dLook'st from thy sole dominion, like the GodOf this new world,—at whose sight all the starsHide their diminish'd heads, to thee I call,But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,That bring to my remembrance from what stateI fell—how glorious once above thy sphere!" &c.
"O Thou that with surpassing glory crown'dLook'st from thy sole dominion, like the GodOf this new world,—at whose sight all the starsHide their diminish'd heads, to thee I call,But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,That bring to my remembrance from what stateI fell—how glorious once above thy sphere!" &c.
Where the speaker is fraught with personal, not as a poet with impersonal affection—where he comes charged with hate, not with love; and yet how slowly, how sedately, through how many thoughts, how much admiration, and how many verses, he reaches his hate at last, which is his object! But onthatsoliloquy,dear Neophyte, we must discourse another day.
We must go a little—not very much—into particulars; for otherwise, O Neophyte! believe thou, whatever wiseacres say, there can be no true criticism of poetry. Let us—and that which might have been expected will appear,—a detail of moral and intellectual disorder. The stanza of which we have been speaking begins well—as we have seen and said. Thenceforth all is stamped with incongruity, and shows an effect like power, by violently bringing together, in a most remarkable manner, things that cannot consist—by the transition from the Universal to the Individual, when for
"The wrecks are all thy deed,"
"The wrecks are all thy deed,"
which shows us a thousand ships foundering in mid ocean, and the earth's shores all strewn with fragments of oak-leviathans, we have instantaneously substituted, as if this were the same thing,
"When for a moment,like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown."
"When for a moment,like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown."
What has happened? What is meant? Is this literally the representation of some single human being actually dropping, as unfortunately happens from time to time, from a ship's side into the immensity of waters? And is this horrible game and triumph of Ocean, which threatened to annihilate the species, upon a sudden confined to "a man overboard?" Or are we to understand that, by a strong feat of uncreating and recreating imagination, this one man, dropped as if naked from the clouds into the sea and submerged, impersonates and impictures, by some concentration of human agony and of human impotence, that universally diffused annihilation of Man in his ships which was the matter in hand? We do not believe that any reader can give a satisfactory explanation or account of the course of thinking that has been here pursued. Upon the face of the words lies that natural pathos which belongs to the perishing of the individual, which serves to blind inquiry, and stands as a substitute for any reasonable thinking at all; and thus a grammatical confusion between Man and a man makes the whole absolute nonsense.
Then look here:—
"Upon the watery plainThe wrecks areall thy deed."
"Upon the watery plainThe wrecks areall thy deed."
This is not only not true—it is false. If man, clothed in the thunder of war, is able to strew ruin upon the land, he, militant, by the same power, strews wreck and ruin upon the waters; and so the distinction pretended, whatever it might be worth, fails. And does not the swallowing of the unknelled and uncoffined, which is attributed to the sea as the victor of man, take place as effectually when beak or broadside sends down a ship with her hundreds of souls, when the great sea, willing or unwilling, appears merely as the servile minister of insulting man's hate and fury?
"Alike the Armada's pride and spoils of Trafalgar."
"Alike the Armada's pride and spoils of Trafalgar."
"Rule Britannia" rings in our ears, and gives that assertion the lie. Does Macaulay's Ode idly recount an ineffectual muster? Did the Lord High Admiral of England, with all his commodores and captains, do nothing to the Armada? With what face dared an English Poet say to the sea that on all those days "the wrecks were all thy deed?" The storms were England's allies indeed, from Cape Clear to the Orcades. But only her allies; and, much as we respect the storms and their services, we say to the English fleet, "The wrecks were all thy deed." At Trafalgar the storms finally sided with the Spaniards. "Let the fleet be anchored," said Nelson ere he died; and, had that been possible, it had been done by Collingwood. After the fight Gravina came out to the rescue—but the sea engulfed the spoils. Yet, spite of that, we say again to the English fleet, "The wrecks were all thy deed;" and the sea answers—and will answer to all eternity—"Ay, ay, ay!"
Byron, we verily believe, was the first Great Poet that owned not a patriot's heart. No pride ever had he in his Country's triumphs either on land or sea. It seems as if he were impatient of every national andindividual greatness that, however far aloof from his sphere, might eclipse his own. He has written well—but not so well as he ought to have done—of Waterloo. The glory of Wellington overshadowed him; and, by keeping his name out of his verses, he would keep the hero himself out of sight. But there he is resplendent in spite of the Poet's spleen.Verbum non ampliusfor Trafalgar! not one for Nelson. Not so did Cowper—the pious, peace-loving Cowper—regard his country's conflicts. At thought of these the holy Harper's soul awoke. He too sung of the sea:—
"What ails thee, restless as the waves that roar,And fling their foam against thy chalky shore?Mistressat least, while Providence shall please,And trident-bearing Queen of the wide seas."
"What ails thee, restless as the waves that roar,And fling their foam against thy chalky shore?Mistressat least, while Providence shall please,And trident-bearing Queen of the wide seas."
That is majestic—and this is sublime:—
"They trust in navies, and their navies fail—God's curse can cast away ten thousand sail."
"They trust in navies, and their navies fail—God's curse can cast away ten thousand sail."
Ay, then, indeed, "ten thousand fleets sail over Thee in vain." Had Byron Cowper's great line in his mind? The copy cannot stand comparison with the original.
If we will try the poet by his words, and know whether he has mastered the consummation of his art by "writing well," we may cull from several instances of suspicious language, in this stanza, the following—
"Nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravagesave his own."
"Nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravagesave his own."
What is the meaning—the translation? "There is not on the ocean to be found a shadow of ravage in which man is the agent. The only ravage known on the ocean, in which man is concerned, is that which he suffers from the ocean." This, if false, is nevertheless an intelligible proposition. But "ravage" is a strange word—a shocking bad one—applied, as you presently find that it must be, to one drowning man being "ravaged" by being drowned; and even more strange still is the grammatical opposition of "his ravage," as properly signifying, the ravage which he achieves, to "his own ravage" as properly signifying the ravage which he endures!
Moreover, what is meant by "remain"? Properly, to linger for a moment ere disappearing. But the proposition is, that ruin effected by man has no place at all on the waters. The poet means, that as long as you, the contemplator, tread the land, you walk among ruins made by man. When you pass on to the sea, no shadow of such ruin any longer accompanies you,—that is, any longerremainswith you.
One great fault of style which the Hymn shows is Equivocation. The words are equivocal. Hence the contradiction—as in this stanza especially—between what is promised and what is done. Weigh for a moment these lines—
"Upon the watery plain,The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravage save his own,When for a moment, like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,"
"Upon the watery plain,The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravage save his own,When for a moment, like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,"
&c., and tell us what they seem to describe. You will find yourself in a pretty puzzle. A ship? a fleet? myriads of ships lost? or one drowning man? Surely one drowning man. His own phrase,
"the bubbling cryOf some strong swimmer in his agony,"
"the bubbling cryOf some strong swimmer in his agony,"
here pre-appears. But he had bound himself quite otherwise. By his pledge he should, in contrast with man's wreck active upon shore, have given man's wreck passive upon the flood,—the earth strewn with ruin by man's hand, the sea strewn with ruin of man himself,—magnis excidit ausis.
The words "remain" and "man" have played the part here of juggling fiends,—
"They palter with us in a double sense,They keep the word of promise to the ear,And break it to our hope."
"They palter with us in a double sense,They keep the word of promise to the ear,And break it to our hope."
For lend us your ear for a few minutes. The word "remain" is originally and essentially a word of time, and means to "continue" in some assigned condition through a certain duration of time; as, for example, he "remained in command for a year." In this clause of Byron's, it has become essentially a word that has regard to space without regard to time. To see that it is so, you must begin with possessing the picture that has been set before you,and which is here the basis and outset of the thinking. This picture is—"man marks the earth with ruin." Realise the picture at the height of the words without flinching. For example, from the Atlantic eastward to the Pacific, man ravages. Here Napoleon—a little farther on Mahomet the Second—farther, the Crusaders—beyond these Khuli Khan or Timour Leng—lastly, the Mogul conquerors of the Celestial Empire,—a chain of desolation from Estremadura to Corea. Had land extended around the globe, it had been a belt of desolation encircling the globe. Corn fields, vineyards, trampled under foot of man and horse,—villages, towns, and great cities, reeking with conflagration, like the smoke ascending from some enormous altar of abomination to offend the nostrils of heaven—armed hosts lying trampled in their blood—the unarmed lying scattered every where in theirs; for man has trodden the earth in his rage, and before him was as the garden of Eden, behind him is the desolate wilderness. This is a translation of the hemistich,—"Man marks the earth with ruin,"—into prose. It is a faithful, a literal translation—Byron meant as much: and you, neophyte, in an instantaneous image receive as much—perhaps with more faith or persuasion, because leaden-pacing, tardy-gaited exposition goes against such faith; but some belief will remain if we, who have put ourselves in the place of the poet, have used colours that seize upon your imagination.
Well, then, if your imagination has done that which the summary word-picture of the poet required of you, you have swept the earth, or one of its continents, with instantaneous flight from shore to shore, and seen this horrible devastation—this widely-spread ravage. You have not staid your wing at the shore, but have swept on, driven by your horror, till you have hung, and first breathed at ease, over the Mid Pacific, over the wideOCEAN OF PEACE—over the unpolluted, everlasting ocean, murmuring under your feet—the unpolluted, everlasting heavens over your head.Hereis no ravage of man's: no! nor the shadow of it—
—"Nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravage."
—"Nor doth remainA shadow of man's ravage."
But how "nor doth remain?" The ravage has gone along with you from sea-marge to sea-marge.At seait is no longer with you. Traversing the land itremainedyour companion. Itremainedthe continual and loathed object of your eyes. Now no shadow of it is to be seen—it haunts your flight no longer. No shadow of it any longer accompanies your aerial voyage—any longer stays, abides,remainswith you. If the word has not this meaning, it has no meaning here in this clause. In this clause it cannot mean this—"upon the ocean, the ravage made by man appears like a flash of lightning, seen and gone,—upon the ocean this ravage, or some shadow of this ravage, has a momentary duration, but no more than momentary, no abiding, noremaining." This cannot be the meaning, since of man it has been expressly said 'his control stops with the shore'—that is, ends there, is not on the ocean at all. Manifestly the question at issue is, not whether destruction effected by man lasts upon the waters, but whether it is at all upon the waters; and Byron's decision is plainly that it is not at all. For he has already said "upon the watery plain the wrecks are all thy deed." That is to say, any sort of wreck effected by man upon the flood at all has been twice rejected in express words; and this word "remain" must imperatively be understood consonantly to this rejection.
Byron, then, we see, in denying that wrecks made by man "remain" upon the "watery plain," takes a word which properly sets before you an extending in time, and uses it for setting before you an extending in space. The ravage of which man is the agent does not extend over the "watery plain"—no, not a shadow of it.
But pray attend to this—no sooner does the sequent clause "save his own," take its place in the verse, than the word "remain" shifts its meaning back, from the signification accidentally forced upon it as has been explained, and reverts to its original and wonted power as a word of time! The force of the united clauses now stands thus—"upon the water there cannot be found a trace of the ruin executed by man. Butof the ruin suffered by him there is an apparition, a vestige, ashadow, a vanishing display, namely—
"When for a moment, like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths, with bubbling groan,Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd and unknown."
"When for a moment, like a drop of rain,He sinks into thy depths, with bubbling groan,Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd and unknown."
He plunges, and all is over. The "bubbling groan" is the momentarilyremainingnotice of his extinction.
Now this first equivocation has an immediate moral consequence—namely, a reaction upon the feelings of the poet. "Remain," as an "extending in space," acts upon the imagination expansively here, if it were suffered to act—and if room were given it to act upon the imagination—inasmuch as "nor doth remain," as a word of extending in space, marks or helps to mark out the two great regions into which his lordship divides the terraqueous globe—ravaged land and unravaged water. But "remain," as an "extending in time," acts here contractively; and "nor remain" means now "does not outlive the moment!" and in this manner an entirely new direction or tenor is given to thought and feeling—for the zeal of diminishing seizes on the imagination of the writer. He is led to making man insignificant by the momentariness of his perishing! He has contracted, by power of scorn, and by the trick of a word, the seventy years of man into an instant. That is one diminution, and another follows upon it. The Fleets, wrecked whenever they fight against the water, vanish from his fancy, as in the shifting of a dream; and he sees, amidst the troubled world of waters—oneman perishing! One mode of insignificancy admitted, induces another. With the shrinking of time to a moment goes along, the shrinking of multitude to one!
The same double-dealing takes place with the word "Man." Man signifies the individual human being—or the race. "Of man's first disobedience"—mankind's. "Man marks the earth with ruin"—mankind does so. "Nor doth remain a shadow of man's ravage"—of mankind's ravage. "When for a moment, like a drop of rain,hesinks into thy waves "—that is now the single sailor, whom a roll of the ship has hurled from the topmast into the waters; or, when the ship has gone down, some strong swimmer who has fought in vain upon the waters, and, spent in limb and heart, sinks. And thus the reader, after stumbling for two or three steps in darkness and perplexity, within a moment of having left mankind in the annihilating embrace of Ocean, upon a sudden finds himself set face to face with one man, we shall suppose "The last man," drowning!
In the Stanza now commented on, there was a struggle depicted, a question proposed between Man and the Ocean—which shall be the Wrecker? The Ocean prevails; Man is wrecked. In the succeeding Stanza there is, it would seem, another question moved between the same disputants. No, it is the same. Let us examine well. A moment before, Man appeared as treading the earth as a Destroyer, his proud step stayed at high water-mark. Now he appears upon the earth as a traveller and a reaper—by implication or allusion—by the figure of "not."
"His steps arenotupon thy paths, thy fieldsArenota spoil for him."
"His steps arenotupon thy paths, thy fieldsArenota spoil for him."
He walks and reaps the earth; he does not walk and reap the ocean. This is plainly the process of the "worthy cogitation;" and unquestionably the assertion is true—true to the letter, but only to the letter. For, standing on Mount Albano, or on the Land's End, or here sitting beneath the porch of our Marine Villa fronting the Firth of Forth, we are poets every one of us, and we will venture beyond the letter;—
"His steps are not upon thy paths!"
"His steps are not upon thy paths!"
—reply—chaunter of Man's Hope, and of England's Power,—
"Thy march is o'er the mountain wave,Thy home is on the deep."
"Thy march is o'er the mountain wave,Thy home is on the deep."
There is a dash of sea-craft for you; and, "cheered by the grateful sound, for many a league old ocean smiles."
And for the sickle! What! must the net and the harpoon go for nothing? No harvests on the barren flood! What else are pearl-fisheries, herring-fisheries, cod-fisheries, and whale-fisheries? "The sea! The deep, deep sea!" Why, the seacannot keep its own; cannot defend the least or the mightiest of its nurselings from the hand of the gigantic plunderer Man.
——"thy fields,Are not a spoil for him."
——"thy fields,Are not a spoil for him."
The fields of earth are not. For he ploughed and sowed ere he reaped, and earned back his own. But onthyfields, no ploughing, no sowing—all reaping! Sheer spoil. Poor, helpless, tributary, rifled, ravaged Ocean!
Then follows a very eminent instance of the fault which has been urged as radical in these Stanzas—forced, unnatural, wilful, or false sequence of thought; a deliberate intention in the mind of the writer, taking the place of the spontaneous free suggestion proper to poetry. We have had man trying to produce ruin on the ocean, and wrecked, swallowed up. Now, man tries to walk and reap the ocean. The poet has outraged mother earth, and her vengeance is upon him. He has wrongfully and wilfully brought in the Earth, for its old alliance with man to hear hard words; and he suffers the penalty. Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer, for you are out of breath. Mere mouthing is not command of words; the sound we hear now is but the echo of the last stanza, and the angry Childe is unwittingly repeating himself,—
——"Thou dost ariseAnd shake him from thee; the vile strength he wieldsFor earth's destructionthou dost all despise,Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray,And howling, to his gods, where haply liesHis petty hope in some near port or bay,And dashest himagain to earth—there let him lay!"
——"Thou dost ariseAnd shake him from thee; the vile strength he wieldsFor earth's destructionthou dost all despise,Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray,And howling, to his gods, where haply liesHis petty hope in some near port or bay,And dashest himagain to earth—there let him lay!"
Here is again the contest, again the ruining upon earth,—nay, he destroys the earth itself—again the wrecking of the ship. Surely there is great awkwardness in stepping on from the proof of man's impotence in the sinking of his ship, to theproof of man's impotence in the sinking of his ship. "Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies" may be a vigorous verse, though we doubt it; but if the ship outlive the storm, which many a ship has done many a thousand times, it can be turned against the ocean, who has done his worstin vain. What is man's "petty hope?" and what means "againto earth?" Is it again from the skies—or back to the earth from which he embarked? Not one expression is precise; and so, with some scorn of man's old ally, who now so roughly receives him,—"there let himlay!" There is something very horrible indeed in insulting a dead man in the Cockney dialect.
In all this there is no dignity, no grandeur; Byron does not well to be angry—it is seldom that any man or poet does—for, though anger is a "short madness," it is not a "fine frenzy." SuchTe Deumtrue Poetry never yet sang, for true Poetry never yet was blasphemous—never yet derided Man's Dread or Man's Hope, when sinking in multitudes in the sea, which God holds in the hollow of his hand.
Go on to the next Stanza—
"The armaments which thunderstrike the walls," &c.
"The armaments which thunderstrike the walls," &c.
Why, here is another shipwreck—only now a fleet of war—before, one merchant-ship perhaps. The Earth, too, is again implicated, and we have the same scornful antithesis of Earth and Ocean. Earth with her towery diadem—Earth, the nurse of nations, trembles at the approach of armaments, which the ocean devours like melting snow. There has been, then, a certain progression in the three stanzas. A drowning man—a merchant-ship tossed and stranded—an armada scattered and lost. Three striking subjects of poetical delineation, each strikingly shown with some true touches, mixed with much false writing. One may understand that in consequence from out the whirlwind and chaos of the composition, resembling the tumult of the sea, there will remain to the reader who does not sift the writing an impression of power—of some great thing done—of Man and his Earth humbled, and the Ocean exalted. In the mean time, the way of the thoughts, the course of the mind, by which this ascent or climax is obtained, is extremely hard to trace, if traceable. The critic may extricatesuch an order from the disorder: but observe, that the ascent or climax can be attained only by neglecting certain strong indications that go another way. Thus, in the first stanza—
"Upon the watery plainThe wrecks are all thy deed,"
"Upon the watery plainThe wrecks are all thy deed,"
includes all that is or can be said more of ship or fleet. Again, in the next stanza—
"Thou dost ariseAnd shake him from thee; the vile strength he wieldsFor earth's destruction thou dost all despise"—
"Thou dost ariseAnd shake him from thee; the vile strength he wieldsFor earth's destruction thou dost all despise"—
Here is again saidallthat is possible to be said. "Thou dost arise and shake him from thee" being perhaps the strongest expression obtained at all; and the "vile strength" being precisely the Armadas described immediately afterwards with so much pomp and pride. Thus there is really confusion and oscillation of thought—mixed with a progress a standing still—and this characteristic of much of Byron's poetry comes prominently out—Uncertainty. Impulses and leaps of a powerful spiritarehere; but self-knowing Power, a mind master of its purposes, disciplined genius, Art accomplished by studies profound and severe, lawful Emulation of the great names that shine in the authentic rolls of immortal Fame, the sanctioned inspiration which the pleased Muses deign to their devout followers, arenothere.
The strength of Man, proved in contest with Ocean and found weakness, is disposed of. The Earth, as bound up with Man and his destinies, came in for a share of rough usage. Now she takes her own turn—in connexion with Man, but now principal. Here the pride of the words is great—the meaning sometimes almost or quite inextricable. Recite the Stanza, beginning
"Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee,"
"Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee,"
and when the sonorous roll has subsided, try to understand it. You will find some difficulty, if we mistake not, in knowing who or what is the apostrophised subject. Unquestionably the World's Ocean, and not the Mediterranean. The very last verse we were afar in the Atlantic. "Thy shores are empires." The shores of the World's Ocean are Empires. There are, or have been, the British Empire, the German Empire, the Russian Empire, and the Empire of the Great Mogul—the Chinese Empire, the Empire of Morocco, those of Peru and Mexico, the Four Great Empires of Antiquity, the French Empire, and some others. The Poet does not intend names and things in this very strict way, however, and he will take in all great Monarchies, nor will he grudge us the imagining the whole Earth laid out in imperial dominions.
Well then—we again, dear Neophyte, bid you try to understand the Stanza, and tell us what it means. What rational thought is there here? With what propriety do we consider the whole Earth as the shores of the Ocean—whenshoreis exactly the interlimitation of land and sea? Is this a lawful way of celebrating the Ocean, to throw in the whole of the lately despised Earth as its brilliant appendage? The question rises, how far from the shore does the shore extend—and whether inwards or outwards?
But there is a meaning and a good one in a way.ΑÏιστον μεν ÏδωÏ. The water civilises the land. 'Tis an old remark—but how? By ships. Here, then, are the tables turned. Lately the sea did nothing with ships but destroy them. Now it patiently wafts them, and by commerce and colonies the Sea civilises the Globe! Surely this is poetical injustice. The first glory of the Sea was, that Man could not sail upon its bosom. The second glory of the Sea is, that, by offering its bosom to be furrowed by Man's daring and indefatigable keels, it—ministerially then—civilises the World. The Sea is the civiliser of the Land—Man is—the Destroyer merely.
Pray, what is the meaning of saying that the Roman and the Assyrian Empires are shores of the Sea: and changed, excepting that the same waters wash the same strands? The deep inland Empires recede too much from the sea-shore to allow any hold to the relation proposed in the words, "changed in all save thee." We know the Sea as their limit—an accident,rather than as a part of their being. The meeting of sea and land being the limit of an empire, the limit remains whilst the Imperial State has withered from the land. Does the immobility of the limit belong more to one element than to the other? And is the Roman Empire, O Neophyte, more unchangedinthe Mediterranean and Atlantic than it isinthe Apennines, and Alps, and Pyrenees, and Helvellyn?
Every clause that regards Earth is, in one way or in another, intolerable—small or tortured. "Thy waters wasted them while they were free," means either "swallowed up their ships, or—ate away their edges!" Alas! that most unhappy meaning is the true one—and what a cogitation to come into a man's—an inspired Poet's head! "Thy waters fretted away the maritime littoral edges of the Assyrian, the Grecian, the Roman, the Carthaginian Empires, whilst those Empires flourished!" And this interesting piece of geographical, and geological, and hydrographical meditation makes part in a burst of indignant spleen which is to go near to annihilating Man from the face of the Globe! Was it possible to express more significantly the imbecility of Old Ocean? And has he not been fretting ever since? And are not the limits the same, as we were told a minute ago? Old Ocean must be in his dotage if he can do no more than that—and we must elect him perpetual President of the Fogie Club.
Such wretched writing shows, with serious warning, how a false temper, admitted into poetry, overrules the sound intellect into gravely and weightily entertaining combinations of thought which, looked at either with common sense or with poetical feeling, cannot be sustained for a moment. How many of Lord Byron's admirers believe—and, in spite of Christopher, will continue to believe—that in these almost senseless stanzas he has said something strong, poignant, cutting, of good edge, and "full of force driven home!"
"Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow—Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now."
"Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow—Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now."
We accept the image; let us grant that the Personification is a fine one. Nevertheless it does not entirely satisfy the imagination. And why? Because the thought of the azure brow, on which time writes no wrinkles, suggests for a moment the thought of the white brow—the brow of man or woman—the human brow, on which Time does write wrinkles along with the engraver, Sorrow. For a moment! butthatis not the intended pathos—and it fades away. The intended pathos here belongs to the wrinkles Time writes on the brow of the Earth—while it spares that of the Sea. But Time deals not so with our gracious Mother Earth. Time keeps perpetually beautifying her brow, while it leaves the brow of Ocean the same as it was at Creation's Dawn. How far more beautiful has the Dædal Earth been growing, from century to century, over Continent and Isle, under the love of her grateful children! The Curse has become a Blessing. In the sweat of their brow they eat their bread; but Nature's self, made lovelier by their labour of heart and hand, rejoices in their creative happiness, and troubled life prepares rest from its toil in many a pleasant place fair as the bowers of Paradise.
We approach the next Stanza reverently, for it has a religious look—an aspect "that threatens the profane."
"Thou glorious Mirror, where the Almighty's FormGlasses itself in tempests," &c.
"Thou glorious Mirror, where the Almighty's FormGlasses itself in tempests," &c.
Suitably recited! let it be suitably spoken of—fearlessly, in truth. The vituperating spirit has exhausted itself—is dead; and all at once the Poet becomes a worshipper. From cherished exasperation with the Creature—from varying moods of hate and scorn—he turns to contemplation of the Creator. Such transition is suspicious—can such worship be sincere? Fallen, sinful—yet is man God's noblest work. In His own image did He create him; and to glorify Him must we vilify the dust into which He breathed a living soul? Let the Poet lament, with thoughts that lie too deep for tears, over what Man has made of Man! And in the multitude of thoughts within him adore his Maker—in words. But he whodespises his kind, and delights, in heaping contumely on the race of man throughout all his history on earth and sea—how may he, when wearied with chiding, all at once, as if it had been not hindrance but preparation, dare to speak, in the language of worship, of the Almighty Maker of Heaven and of Earth?
The Stanza, accordingly, is not good—it is laboured, heavy, formal, uninspired bydivine afflatus. There is not in it one truly sublime expression. Nothing to our mind can be worse than "where the Almighty'sFormglasses itself &c.—" The one word "Form" is destructive, in its gross materialism, alike of natural Poetry and natural Religion. If it be not, show us we are wrong, and henceforth we shall be mute for ever. "In all time, calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale,or storm," is poor and prosaic; and "or storm," a pitiable platitude after "in tempests." And the conversion of a Mirror into a Throne—of the Mirror too in which the Almighty's "Formglasses itself," into the Throne of the "Invisible"—is a fatal contradiction, proving the utter want of that possession of soul by one awful thought which was here demanded, and without which the whole stanza becomes but a mere collocation and hubbub of big-sounding words. "Even from out thy slime, the monsters of the deep are made," is violently jammed in between lines that have no sort of connexion with it, and introduces a thought which, whether consistent with true Philosophy or abhorrent from it, breaks in upon the whole course of contemplation, such as it is,—to say nothing of the extreme poverty of language shown in the use of such words as "monsters ofthe deep" made out of the slimeof the sea.
The strain—such as it is—ceases suddenly with this Stanza; and the Poet having thus got done with it, exclaiming "and I have loved thee, Ocean," proceeds forthwith to a different matter altogether—to the pleasure he was wont to enjoy, when a boy, in swimming among the breakers. The verses are in themselves very spirited; but we must think—and hope so do you—very much out of place, and a sad descent from the altitude attempted, and believed by the Poet himself to have been attained, in the preceding Stanza about the Almighty.
Why, listening Neophyte, recite both Stanzas, and then tell us whether or no you think they maybe improved by being put into—our Prose. We do not seek thereby to injure what Poetry may be in them, but to bring it out and improve it.
"Thou glorious Mirror, in which, when black with tempests, Fancy might conceive Omnipotence imaged in visible reflection!—Thou Sea, that in all thy seasons, whether smooth or agitated, whether soft or wild wind blow, in all thy regions, icy at the Pole, dark-heaving at the Equator, ever and every where callest forth our acknowledgment that Thou art illimitable, interminable, sublime; that Thou art the symbol of Eternity—(like a circle by returning into itself;) that Thou art the visible Throne of the Invisible Deity—Thou whose very dregs turn into enormous life—Thou who, possessing the larger part of every zone, art thus a King in every zone; Thou takest thy course around the Earth,—great by thine awfulness, by thine undiscoverable depth, by thy solitude!
"And I, thy Poet, was of old thy Lover! In young years my favourite disport was to lie afloat on thy bosom, carried along by Thee, passive, resigned to Thy power, one of Thy bubbles. A boy, Thy waves were my playmates, or my playthings. If, as the wind freshened, and they swelled, I grew afraid, there was a pleasure even in the palpitation of the fears, for I lived with Thee and loved Thee, even like a child of Thine, and believed that Thy billows would not hurt me, and laid my hand boldly and wantonly on their crests—as at this instant I do, here sitting upon the Alban Mount—and making (as they say) a long arm."
Ha! The Dinner-Gong!
Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh.
FOOTNOTES:[1]The anaglyph was peculiar to the Egyptian priests—the hieroglyph generally known to the well educated.[2]Lucian,The Dream of Micyllus.[3]Remains of the Rev. Richard Cecil, p. 349.[4]Principles of Political Economy, with some of their applications to Social Philosophy.ByJohn Stuart Mill. 2 vols.[5]"Mais d'abord va-t-on désigner cet ordre particulier d'investigations par le nom d'économie politique? Quoi donc! Économie politique, économie de la société,—c'est à dire—production, distribution, consommation des richesses? Mais c'est se moquer; on ne traduit pas avec une liberté pareille. Il ne faut qu'ouvrir le premier dictionnaire venu pour voir," &c.—Dunoyer,De la Liberté du Travail.[6]The discussions upon the income tax reveal a lamentable state of public feeling on this subject. That this tax might have been more equitably adjusted, every one but a Chancellor of the Exchequer will admit. Those who have to insure their lives, or otherwise save a fund out of their income for survivors, ought not to pay the same tax as those who can enjoy the whole of their income. But no such modification as this would have pacified discontent. One often heard it said that the tax should fall exclusively on realised property. The prosperous tradesman, with his income of some thousands a-year, was to pay nothing; the poor widow, who draws her sixty pounds per annum from her property in the funds, she was to pay the tax. Mr Mill, in noticing this very equitable proposition, says—"Except the proposal of applying a sponge to the national debt, no such palpable violation of common honesty has found sufficient support in this country during the present generation to be regarded within the domain of discussion. It has not the palliation of a graduated property-tax, that of laying the burthen on those best able to bear it; for 'realised property' includes almost every provision made for those who are unable to work, and consists, in great part, of extremely small fractions. I can hardly conceive a more shameless pretension than that the major part of the property of the country, that of merchants, manufacturers, farmers, and shopkeepers, should be exempted from its share of taxation; that these classes should only begin to pay their proportion after retiring from business, and if they never retire, should be excused from it altogether."—(Vol. ii. p. 355.)[7]In a work entitled,Over-Population and its Remedy.[8]From the report to the Governor of California by the Head of the Mission, in reference to the attacks by the American mountaineers.[9]Indian expression for a free gift.[10]Since the time of which we speak, Kit Carson has distinguished himself in guiding the several U. S. exploring expeditions, under Frémont, across the Rocky Mountains, and to all parts of Oregon and California; and for his services, the President of the United States presented the gallant mountaineer with the commission of lieutenant in a newly raised regiment of mounted riflemen, of which his old leader Frémont is appointed colonel.[11]Lamartine,Histoire des Girondins, i. 83.[12]The Prefect of Police had published an account of the situation of Paris during the last ten days, in which he states that the most perfect tranquillity prevailed in the capital; that confidence was beginning to revive on every point; that a slow but incontestible progress manifested itself in every branch of industry; and that at no former period, and under no previous regimen, did Paris offer more respect for persons or more security for property. Orders were arriving from the departments. The manufacture of articles of luxury and jewellery partook of that resuscitation, as appears from the returns of the inspector-general of the hall-mark at the mint of Paris. The articles of jewellery completed and ordered during the last five months produced the following receipts:—in April, 9,000f.; May, 11,000f.; June, 17,000f.; July, 19,000f.; August, 36,000f. The number of workmen reduced by distress to reside in lodging-houses had considerably diminished. In the preceding bulletin their number was 31,480; it is now 27,308—17,977 of whom were employed, and 9,331 unoccupied. The houses of confinement contained nearly the same number of ordinary prisoners, and only 4,058 insurgents of June; 2,909 of the latter had been liberated since the 26th of July, and 1,005 conveyed to Havre between the 28th of August and the 4th of September. From the 26th of August to the 5th of September, nine persons committed suicide.—Times, Sept. 11, 1848.[13]We mean those in the south and west. The other, of Ulster, are of British descent, and undistinguished from the rest of the Anglo-Saxon race.[14]CRIME IN IRELAND.Serious Crimes.Last Quarterof 1829.Catholic Emancipation passed in March,300Do.of 1830.Do.499Do.of 1831.Reform Agitation,814Do.of 1832.Reform and Repeal Agitation,1513By the Coercion Act the Serious crimes were reduced at once to afourthof their number. SeeHansard, Parl. Debates, Feb. 9, 1834.[15]"It was not so much through the hostility of the English members, as through the desertion and hostility of the Irish members, (many of them Repealers,) that in February 1847, Ireland lost the opportunity of obtaining a loan of sixteen millions of English gold at £3, 7s. 6d. per cent, to stimulate the construction, by private enterprise, of railways in your country."Unanimous in Palace Yard, on one Tuesday in favour of the proposition I then brought forward, on the Thursday se'ennight the same sixty gentlemen, having seen the prime minister at the Foreign Office in the interval, voted two to one in the House of Commons against giving railways to Ireland."Out of a hundred and five representatives which Ireland possesses, twenty-eight only, if my memory serves me correctly, would vote for that loan to Ireland. Two-thirds of the Irish representatives present declined the measure—the rest took care to benon est inventusat the division, which was the hour of Ireland's need."Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the division list, and you will find many more true friends of Ireland, on that occasion, among the supporters of the Union than among the Repealers."Is it surprising that, where Irish representatives voted two to one against the acceptance of that measure, and when but twenty-eight, out of Ireland's hundred and five, could alone be found to say 'ay,' that a majority of Englishmen could not be found willing to make a sacrifice of English interests, to force upon Ireland a boon which the majority of Irish members rejected?"It is not Repeal of the Union that Ireland wants; she wants men to represent her, who, understanding her material and substantial interests, are able and willing to promote and maintain them; and will not, on the other hand, to gain the shouts of the mob, divert public and parliamentary attention to phantom reforms, that have no substantial virtue in them—or, on the other hand, sell their votes to win the smiles, or may be something more valuable in the gift of the minister of the day.—I am, Sir your humble servant,"G. Bentinck."[16]Alison'sEurope, xx., Appendix.[17]Small as these numbers are, the amount of notes in circulation is daily still further decreasing. For the week ending 9th September 1848, the amount of notes in circulation of the Bank of England was only £17,844,665. It is no wonder the same journal adds—"The Railway Market wasmore depressed than everthis afternoon; and prices of all descriptions experienced a considerable fall. London and North Western were done at 105; Great Western stand at 18 to 20discount."—Times, 10th Sept. 1848.[18]Exports, Declared Value.Imports, Official Value.1844,£58,584,292£75,441,5651845,60,111,68185,284,9651846,57,786,57675,958,8751847,58,971,10690,921,866—Parl. Returns.[19]Exports.First half of 1847.First half of 1848.Increase.Decrease.Butter£62,879£71,576£8,697—Candles22,15526,4754,329—Cheese15,14911,089—£4,060Coals and culm432,497517,92585,420—Cotton manufactures9,248,8358,023,825—1,225,010Cotton yarn2,628,6162,214,031—414,185Earthenware429,387365,382—64,005Fish, herrings37,88331,220—6,663Glass153,746124,121—29,625Hardwares and cutlery1,096,956939,523—157,433Leather, wrought & unwrought163,515119,921—43,594Linen manufactures1,502,7701,413,819—88,951Linen yarn315,196236,076—79,120Machinery541,403398,770—142,633Metals—Iron and steel2,462,9542,545,65082,696—Copper and brass849,751546,648—303,103Lead100,62057,331—43,289Tin, unwrought72,88273,477595—Tin, plates235,771259,95024,179—Salt141,195115,757—25,438Silk manufactures494,806263,798—231,008Soap76,68674,166—2,520Sugar, refined203,628212,2988,670—Wool, sheep or lambs'95,41258,256—37,156Woollen yarn444,797291,985—152,812Woollen manufactures3,564,7542,578,470—986,284£25,394,243£21,571,939£214,585£4,036,889The entire decrease of exports during the half-year is thus shown to be £3,822,304.Imports.Imported.Taken for Home Consumption.1847.1848.1847.1848.Grain of all descriptions, qrs.2,195,5791,548,4642,547,9381,436,463Indian corn, qrs.2,082,038652,7882,082,369647,470Flour and meal, cwts.3,382,959459,7973,860,187433,759Provisions—Bacon, pork, &c., cwts.176,319234,398Free.Free.Butter and cheese, cwts.298,568291,713342,170312,394Animals, No.61,98952,345Free.Free.Eggs, No.41,299,51448,791,79341,276,99048,786,604Cocoa, lbs.2,540,2982,407,0341,764,5901,542,119Coffee, British, lbs.6,394,50810,227,07213,545,14715,158,187Ditto, Foreign, lbs.5,395,6697,704,2826,092,2523,900,457Total coffee11,790,17717,931,35419,637,39919,058,644Sugar—West India, cwts.1,288,1381,091,375994,1631,212,726Mauritius, cwts.884,699568,475617,681470,410East India, cwts.683,901679,279710,514669,196Foreign, cwts.1,110,948621,301622,284427,542Total sugar3,967,6862,960,4302,944,6422,779,874Tea, lbs.30,999,70332,788,91423,101,97524,365,380Rice, cwts.676,130497,038Free.—Ditto, qrs.32,34331,410Free.—Spirits, galls4,328,4264,525,7292,282,0722,069,720Wines, galls3,332,8663,380,8263,264,5213,114,158Opium, lbs.103,70883,69327,20836,985Tobacco, lbs.11,100,32810,822,18413,419,83013,416,118Fruits—Currants, figs, and raisins, cwts.189,844107,644194,951236,918Lemons and oranges, chests209,647281,362206,058261,302Ditto, at value, £7732,96112,4498,463Spices, lbs.2,250,6643,460,4971,564,6121,632,833
[1]The anaglyph was peculiar to the Egyptian priests—the hieroglyph generally known to the well educated.
[1]The anaglyph was peculiar to the Egyptian priests—the hieroglyph generally known to the well educated.
[2]Lucian,The Dream of Micyllus.
[2]Lucian,The Dream of Micyllus.
[3]Remains of the Rev. Richard Cecil, p. 349.
[3]Remains of the Rev. Richard Cecil, p. 349.
[4]Principles of Political Economy, with some of their applications to Social Philosophy.ByJohn Stuart Mill. 2 vols.
[4]Principles of Political Economy, with some of their applications to Social Philosophy.ByJohn Stuart Mill. 2 vols.
[5]"Mais d'abord va-t-on désigner cet ordre particulier d'investigations par le nom d'économie politique? Quoi donc! Économie politique, économie de la société,—c'est à dire—production, distribution, consommation des richesses? Mais c'est se moquer; on ne traduit pas avec une liberté pareille. Il ne faut qu'ouvrir le premier dictionnaire venu pour voir," &c.—Dunoyer,De la Liberté du Travail.
[5]"Mais d'abord va-t-on désigner cet ordre particulier d'investigations par le nom d'économie politique? Quoi donc! Économie politique, économie de la société,—c'est à dire—production, distribution, consommation des richesses? Mais c'est se moquer; on ne traduit pas avec une liberté pareille. Il ne faut qu'ouvrir le premier dictionnaire venu pour voir," &c.—Dunoyer,De la Liberté du Travail.
[6]The discussions upon the income tax reveal a lamentable state of public feeling on this subject. That this tax might have been more equitably adjusted, every one but a Chancellor of the Exchequer will admit. Those who have to insure their lives, or otherwise save a fund out of their income for survivors, ought not to pay the same tax as those who can enjoy the whole of their income. But no such modification as this would have pacified discontent. One often heard it said that the tax should fall exclusively on realised property. The prosperous tradesman, with his income of some thousands a-year, was to pay nothing; the poor widow, who draws her sixty pounds per annum from her property in the funds, she was to pay the tax. Mr Mill, in noticing this very equitable proposition, says—"Except the proposal of applying a sponge to the national debt, no such palpable violation of common honesty has found sufficient support in this country during the present generation to be regarded within the domain of discussion. It has not the palliation of a graduated property-tax, that of laying the burthen on those best able to bear it; for 'realised property' includes almost every provision made for those who are unable to work, and consists, in great part, of extremely small fractions. I can hardly conceive a more shameless pretension than that the major part of the property of the country, that of merchants, manufacturers, farmers, and shopkeepers, should be exempted from its share of taxation; that these classes should only begin to pay their proportion after retiring from business, and if they never retire, should be excused from it altogether."—(Vol. ii. p. 355.)
[6]The discussions upon the income tax reveal a lamentable state of public feeling on this subject. That this tax might have been more equitably adjusted, every one but a Chancellor of the Exchequer will admit. Those who have to insure their lives, or otherwise save a fund out of their income for survivors, ought not to pay the same tax as those who can enjoy the whole of their income. But no such modification as this would have pacified discontent. One often heard it said that the tax should fall exclusively on realised property. The prosperous tradesman, with his income of some thousands a-year, was to pay nothing; the poor widow, who draws her sixty pounds per annum from her property in the funds, she was to pay the tax. Mr Mill, in noticing this very equitable proposition, says—"Except the proposal of applying a sponge to the national debt, no such palpable violation of common honesty has found sufficient support in this country during the present generation to be regarded within the domain of discussion. It has not the palliation of a graduated property-tax, that of laying the burthen on those best able to bear it; for 'realised property' includes almost every provision made for those who are unable to work, and consists, in great part, of extremely small fractions. I can hardly conceive a more shameless pretension than that the major part of the property of the country, that of merchants, manufacturers, farmers, and shopkeepers, should be exempted from its share of taxation; that these classes should only begin to pay their proportion after retiring from business, and if they never retire, should be excused from it altogether."—(Vol. ii. p. 355.)
[7]In a work entitled,Over-Population and its Remedy.
[7]In a work entitled,Over-Population and its Remedy.
[8]From the report to the Governor of California by the Head of the Mission, in reference to the attacks by the American mountaineers.
[8]From the report to the Governor of California by the Head of the Mission, in reference to the attacks by the American mountaineers.
[9]Indian expression for a free gift.
[9]Indian expression for a free gift.
[10]Since the time of which we speak, Kit Carson has distinguished himself in guiding the several U. S. exploring expeditions, under Frémont, across the Rocky Mountains, and to all parts of Oregon and California; and for his services, the President of the United States presented the gallant mountaineer with the commission of lieutenant in a newly raised regiment of mounted riflemen, of which his old leader Frémont is appointed colonel.
[10]Since the time of which we speak, Kit Carson has distinguished himself in guiding the several U. S. exploring expeditions, under Frémont, across the Rocky Mountains, and to all parts of Oregon and California; and for his services, the President of the United States presented the gallant mountaineer with the commission of lieutenant in a newly raised regiment of mounted riflemen, of which his old leader Frémont is appointed colonel.
[11]Lamartine,Histoire des Girondins, i. 83.
[11]Lamartine,Histoire des Girondins, i. 83.
[12]The Prefect of Police had published an account of the situation of Paris during the last ten days, in which he states that the most perfect tranquillity prevailed in the capital; that confidence was beginning to revive on every point; that a slow but incontestible progress manifested itself in every branch of industry; and that at no former period, and under no previous regimen, did Paris offer more respect for persons or more security for property. Orders were arriving from the departments. The manufacture of articles of luxury and jewellery partook of that resuscitation, as appears from the returns of the inspector-general of the hall-mark at the mint of Paris. The articles of jewellery completed and ordered during the last five months produced the following receipts:—in April, 9,000f.; May, 11,000f.; June, 17,000f.; July, 19,000f.; August, 36,000f. The number of workmen reduced by distress to reside in lodging-houses had considerably diminished. In the preceding bulletin their number was 31,480; it is now 27,308—17,977 of whom were employed, and 9,331 unoccupied. The houses of confinement contained nearly the same number of ordinary prisoners, and only 4,058 insurgents of June; 2,909 of the latter had been liberated since the 26th of July, and 1,005 conveyed to Havre between the 28th of August and the 4th of September. From the 26th of August to the 5th of September, nine persons committed suicide.—Times, Sept. 11, 1848.
[12]The Prefect of Police had published an account of the situation of Paris during the last ten days, in which he states that the most perfect tranquillity prevailed in the capital; that confidence was beginning to revive on every point; that a slow but incontestible progress manifested itself in every branch of industry; and that at no former period, and under no previous regimen, did Paris offer more respect for persons or more security for property. Orders were arriving from the departments. The manufacture of articles of luxury and jewellery partook of that resuscitation, as appears from the returns of the inspector-general of the hall-mark at the mint of Paris. The articles of jewellery completed and ordered during the last five months produced the following receipts:—in April, 9,000f.; May, 11,000f.; June, 17,000f.; July, 19,000f.; August, 36,000f. The number of workmen reduced by distress to reside in lodging-houses had considerably diminished. In the preceding bulletin their number was 31,480; it is now 27,308—17,977 of whom were employed, and 9,331 unoccupied. The houses of confinement contained nearly the same number of ordinary prisoners, and only 4,058 insurgents of June; 2,909 of the latter had been liberated since the 26th of July, and 1,005 conveyed to Havre between the 28th of August and the 4th of September. From the 26th of August to the 5th of September, nine persons committed suicide.—Times, Sept. 11, 1848.
[13]We mean those in the south and west. The other, of Ulster, are of British descent, and undistinguished from the rest of the Anglo-Saxon race.
[13]We mean those in the south and west. The other, of Ulster, are of British descent, and undistinguished from the rest of the Anglo-Saxon race.
[14]CRIME IN IRELAND.Serious Crimes.Last Quarterof 1829.Catholic Emancipation passed in March,300Do.of 1830.Do.499Do.of 1831.Reform Agitation,814Do.of 1832.Reform and Repeal Agitation,1513By the Coercion Act the Serious crimes were reduced at once to afourthof their number. SeeHansard, Parl. Debates, Feb. 9, 1834.
[14]
CRIME IN IRELAND.
Serious Crimes.Last Quarterof 1829.Catholic Emancipation passed in March,300Do.of 1830.Do.499Do.of 1831.Reform Agitation,814Do.of 1832.Reform and Repeal Agitation,1513
By the Coercion Act the Serious crimes were reduced at once to afourthof their number. SeeHansard, Parl. Debates, Feb. 9, 1834.
By the Coercion Act the Serious crimes were reduced at once to afourthof their number. SeeHansard, Parl. Debates, Feb. 9, 1834.
[15]"It was not so much through the hostility of the English members, as through the desertion and hostility of the Irish members, (many of them Repealers,) that in February 1847, Ireland lost the opportunity of obtaining a loan of sixteen millions of English gold at £3, 7s. 6d. per cent, to stimulate the construction, by private enterprise, of railways in your country."Unanimous in Palace Yard, on one Tuesday in favour of the proposition I then brought forward, on the Thursday se'ennight the same sixty gentlemen, having seen the prime minister at the Foreign Office in the interval, voted two to one in the House of Commons against giving railways to Ireland."Out of a hundred and five representatives which Ireland possesses, twenty-eight only, if my memory serves me correctly, would vote for that loan to Ireland. Two-thirds of the Irish representatives present declined the measure—the rest took care to benon est inventusat the division, which was the hour of Ireland's need."Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the division list, and you will find many more true friends of Ireland, on that occasion, among the supporters of the Union than among the Repealers."Is it surprising that, where Irish representatives voted two to one against the acceptance of that measure, and when but twenty-eight, out of Ireland's hundred and five, could alone be found to say 'ay,' that a majority of Englishmen could not be found willing to make a sacrifice of English interests, to force upon Ireland a boon which the majority of Irish members rejected?"It is not Repeal of the Union that Ireland wants; she wants men to represent her, who, understanding her material and substantial interests, are able and willing to promote and maintain them; and will not, on the other hand, to gain the shouts of the mob, divert public and parliamentary attention to phantom reforms, that have no substantial virtue in them—or, on the other hand, sell their votes to win the smiles, or may be something more valuable in the gift of the minister of the day.—I am, Sir your humble servant,"G. Bentinck."
[15]"It was not so much through the hostility of the English members, as through the desertion and hostility of the Irish members, (many of them Repealers,) that in February 1847, Ireland lost the opportunity of obtaining a loan of sixteen millions of English gold at £3, 7s. 6d. per cent, to stimulate the construction, by private enterprise, of railways in your country.
"Unanimous in Palace Yard, on one Tuesday in favour of the proposition I then brought forward, on the Thursday se'ennight the same sixty gentlemen, having seen the prime minister at the Foreign Office in the interval, voted two to one in the House of Commons against giving railways to Ireland.
"Out of a hundred and five representatives which Ireland possesses, twenty-eight only, if my memory serves me correctly, would vote for that loan to Ireland. Two-thirds of the Irish representatives present declined the measure—the rest took care to benon est inventusat the division, which was the hour of Ireland's need.
"Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the division list, and you will find many more true friends of Ireland, on that occasion, among the supporters of the Union than among the Repealers.
"Is it surprising that, where Irish representatives voted two to one against the acceptance of that measure, and when but twenty-eight, out of Ireland's hundred and five, could alone be found to say 'ay,' that a majority of Englishmen could not be found willing to make a sacrifice of English interests, to force upon Ireland a boon which the majority of Irish members rejected?
"It is not Repeal of the Union that Ireland wants; she wants men to represent her, who, understanding her material and substantial interests, are able and willing to promote and maintain them; and will not, on the other hand, to gain the shouts of the mob, divert public and parliamentary attention to phantom reforms, that have no substantial virtue in them—or, on the other hand, sell their votes to win the smiles, or may be something more valuable in the gift of the minister of the day.—I am, Sir your humble servant,
"G. Bentinck."
[16]Alison'sEurope, xx., Appendix.
[16]Alison'sEurope, xx., Appendix.
[17]Small as these numbers are, the amount of notes in circulation is daily still further decreasing. For the week ending 9th September 1848, the amount of notes in circulation of the Bank of England was only £17,844,665. It is no wonder the same journal adds—"The Railway Market wasmore depressed than everthis afternoon; and prices of all descriptions experienced a considerable fall. London and North Western were done at 105; Great Western stand at 18 to 20discount."—Times, 10th Sept. 1848.
[17]Small as these numbers are, the amount of notes in circulation is daily still further decreasing. For the week ending 9th September 1848, the amount of notes in circulation of the Bank of England was only £17,844,665. It is no wonder the same journal adds—"The Railway Market wasmore depressed than everthis afternoon; and prices of all descriptions experienced a considerable fall. London and North Western were done at 105; Great Western stand at 18 to 20discount."—Times, 10th Sept. 1848.
[18]Exports, Declared Value.Imports, Official Value.1844,£58,584,292£75,441,5651845,60,111,68185,284,9651846,57,786,57675,958,8751847,58,971,10690,921,866—Parl. Returns.
[18]
Exports, Declared Value.Imports, Official Value.1844,£58,584,292£75,441,5651845,60,111,68185,284,9651846,57,786,57675,958,8751847,58,971,10690,921,866—Parl. Returns.
[19]Exports.First half of 1847.First half of 1848.Increase.Decrease.Butter£62,879£71,576£8,697—Candles22,15526,4754,329—Cheese15,14911,089—£4,060Coals and culm432,497517,92585,420—Cotton manufactures9,248,8358,023,825—1,225,010Cotton yarn2,628,6162,214,031—414,185Earthenware429,387365,382—64,005Fish, herrings37,88331,220—6,663Glass153,746124,121—29,625Hardwares and cutlery1,096,956939,523—157,433Leather, wrought & unwrought163,515119,921—43,594Linen manufactures1,502,7701,413,819—88,951Linen yarn315,196236,076—79,120Machinery541,403398,770—142,633Metals—Iron and steel2,462,9542,545,65082,696—Copper and brass849,751546,648—303,103Lead100,62057,331—43,289Tin, unwrought72,88273,477595—Tin, plates235,771259,95024,179—Salt141,195115,757—25,438Silk manufactures494,806263,798—231,008Soap76,68674,166—2,520Sugar, refined203,628212,2988,670—Wool, sheep or lambs'95,41258,256—37,156Woollen yarn444,797291,985—152,812Woollen manufactures3,564,7542,578,470—986,284£25,394,243£21,571,939£214,585£4,036,889The entire decrease of exports during the half-year is thus shown to be £3,822,304.Imports.Imported.Taken for Home Consumption.1847.1848.1847.1848.Grain of all descriptions, qrs.2,195,5791,548,4642,547,9381,436,463Indian corn, qrs.2,082,038652,7882,082,369647,470Flour and meal, cwts.3,382,959459,7973,860,187433,759Provisions—Bacon, pork, &c., cwts.176,319234,398Free.Free.Butter and cheese, cwts.298,568291,713342,170312,394Animals, No.61,98952,345Free.Free.Eggs, No.41,299,51448,791,79341,276,99048,786,604Cocoa, lbs.2,540,2982,407,0341,764,5901,542,119Coffee, British, lbs.6,394,50810,227,07213,545,14715,158,187Ditto, Foreign, lbs.5,395,6697,704,2826,092,2523,900,457Total coffee11,790,17717,931,35419,637,39919,058,644Sugar—West India, cwts.1,288,1381,091,375994,1631,212,726Mauritius, cwts.884,699568,475617,681470,410East India, cwts.683,901679,279710,514669,196Foreign, cwts.1,110,948621,301622,284427,542Total sugar3,967,6862,960,4302,944,6422,779,874Tea, lbs.30,999,70332,788,91423,101,97524,365,380Rice, cwts.676,130497,038Free.—Ditto, qrs.32,34331,410Free.—Spirits, galls4,328,4264,525,7292,282,0722,069,720Wines, galls3,332,8663,380,8263,264,5213,114,158Opium, lbs.103,70883,69327,20836,985Tobacco, lbs.11,100,32810,822,18413,419,83013,416,118Fruits—Currants, figs, and raisins, cwts.189,844107,644194,951236,918Lemons and oranges, chests209,647281,362206,058261,302Ditto, at value, £7732,96112,4498,463Spices, lbs.2,250,6643,460,4971,564,6121,632,833
[19]
Exports.
First half of 1847.First half of 1848.Increase.Decrease.Butter£62,879£71,576£8,697—Candles22,15526,4754,329—Cheese15,14911,089—£4,060Coals and culm432,497517,92585,420—Cotton manufactures9,248,8358,023,825—1,225,010Cotton yarn2,628,6162,214,031—414,185Earthenware429,387365,382—64,005Fish, herrings37,88331,220—6,663Glass153,746124,121—29,625Hardwares and cutlery1,096,956939,523—157,433Leather, wrought & unwrought163,515119,921—43,594Linen manufactures1,502,7701,413,819—88,951Linen yarn315,196236,076—79,120Machinery541,403398,770—142,633Metals—Iron and steel2,462,9542,545,65082,696—Copper and brass849,751546,648—303,103Lead100,62057,331—43,289Tin, unwrought72,88273,477595—Tin, plates235,771259,95024,179—Salt141,195115,757—25,438Silk manufactures494,806263,798—231,008Soap76,68674,166—2,520Sugar, refined203,628212,2988,670—Wool, sheep or lambs'95,41258,256—37,156Woollen yarn444,797291,985—152,812Woollen manufactures3,564,7542,578,470—986,284£25,394,243£21,571,939£214,585£4,036,889The entire decrease of exports during the half-year is thus shown to be £3,822,304.
The entire decrease of exports during the half-year is thus shown to be £3,822,304.
Imports.
Imported.Taken for Home Consumption.1847.1848.1847.1848.Grain of all descriptions, qrs.2,195,5791,548,4642,547,9381,436,463Indian corn, qrs.2,082,038652,7882,082,369647,470Flour and meal, cwts.3,382,959459,7973,860,187433,759Provisions—Bacon, pork, &c., cwts.176,319234,398Free.Free.Butter and cheese, cwts.298,568291,713342,170312,394Animals, No.61,98952,345Free.Free.Eggs, No.41,299,51448,791,79341,276,99048,786,604Cocoa, lbs.2,540,2982,407,0341,764,5901,542,119Coffee, British, lbs.6,394,50810,227,07213,545,14715,158,187Ditto, Foreign, lbs.5,395,6697,704,2826,092,2523,900,457Total coffee11,790,17717,931,35419,637,39919,058,644Sugar—West India, cwts.1,288,1381,091,375994,1631,212,726Mauritius, cwts.884,699568,475617,681470,410East India, cwts.683,901679,279710,514669,196Foreign, cwts.1,110,948621,301622,284427,542Total sugar3,967,6862,960,4302,944,6422,779,874Tea, lbs.30,999,70332,788,91423,101,97524,365,380Rice, cwts.676,130497,038Free.—Ditto, qrs.32,34331,410Free.—Spirits, galls4,328,4264,525,7292,282,0722,069,720Wines, galls3,332,8663,380,8263,264,5213,114,158Opium, lbs.103,70883,69327,20836,985Tobacco, lbs.11,100,32810,822,18413,419,83013,416,118Fruits—Currants, figs, and raisins, cwts.189,844107,644194,951236,918Lemons and oranges, chests209,647281,362206,058261,302Ditto, at value, £7732,96112,4498,463Spices, lbs.2,250,6643,460,4971,564,6121,632,833