Part 23

The writing of the present day has many distinguishing excellences and faults. The most conspicuous of the latter is, perhaps, a want of simplicity and steadiness of style. Force--startling energy--are too uniformly aimed at by some; others affect continual sarcasm and irony, whatever may be the nature of the occasion. One class of writers are so priggishly curt and epigrammatic as to throw over their lucubrations an uniform air of small impertinence: it would be easy to point out, I think, an incessant illustration of this "school," if one may use the word. Others uniformly affect the trenchant and tremendous, with very big words, and awful accumulations of them. Some seem to aim at a picturesque ruggedness of style--defying rule, and challenging imitation. Very many writers of all classes are so parenthetical and involved in their sentences, that by the time that they have got to the end of a sentence, both they and their readers have forgotten where they set out from, and how the plague they got where they are: looking back breathless and dismayed at a confused series of hyphens entangled among all sorts of exceptions, reservations, and qualifications. This fault, and a grievous one it is, is daily illustrated, and by writers, who, by their carelessness in this matter, do themselves incalculable injustice, rendering apparently turbid the clearest possible stream of reasoning, marring the effect of the most beautiful and apposite illustration, and irritating and confusing the reader. In my opinion, this fault of our public writers is to be traced to the influence of Lord Brougham's style. He has, and always had, a prodigious command of nervous and apposite language, always writing or speaking with a violent _impetus_ upon him; and yet, while crashing along, his versatile and suggestive faculties hurried him incessantly from one side to the other, hither and thither--anticipating _this_, qualifying that, guarding against _this_, reserving that--extruding undesirable implications and inferences, with a sort of wild rapidity and energy--adopting ever-varying fanciful equivalent expressions--crowding, in fact, a dozen considerable sentences into one turbid monster. Yet it must be owned, that in all this he seldom misses his way; his original _impetus_ carries him headlong on to the point at which he had aimed. Not so with his imitators. They start with an imaginary equality of force, of fulness, and variety; but forthwith rush into a strange higgle-piggledy, helter-skelter sort of imposing wordiness, equally bewildering and stupifying to their readers and themselves. No man can fall into this sort of fault who is habituated to leisurely distinctness of thought: he will conceive beforehand with deliberate purpose, and that, _cæteris paribus_, will induce a clear, close, and energetic expression of his thoughts, preventing misapprehension, and convincing even a strongly prejudiced opponent. Shorten your sentences, gentlemen; take one thing at a time; put every thing in its proper place; attempt not to _put a quart into a pint pot_; do not write in such a desperate hurry, nor attempt to hit half-a-dozen birds with one stone. Another prevalent vice is a sickening redundancy of classical quotation and allusion. Many of our newspaper writers, and among them some of the very cleverest, cannot contemplate any topic which they propose to discuss, without its suggesting, as if by a sudden, secret sort of elective affinity, previous events and occurrences of past ages. Out tumble scraps from Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Terence, Plautus, Lucretius, with their prose companions; and this, too, be it observed, almost always _Roman_;--it requires a certain hardihood to adopt the Greek language in modern composition. In short, one really thinks himself entitled to infer, from this extravagant amount of quotation and allusion, as well ancient as modern, that its perpetrators are very young: red-hot from their classical studies, panting to exhibit the extent of their acquisitions, the scholarly ease and precision with which they can apply the most recondite passages and allusions to the fresh occurrences of the moment. One is apt to suspect that one great motive for acquiring, extending, and retaining knowledge, is the simple desire to exhibit the possession of it. But all this is very vain and foolish. It looks stupidly ridiculous to persons of experienced judgment. An occasional and very sparing use of this sort of accessory is always desirable, often marvellously graceful and happy; an excess of it decisively indicates pedantic puerility, ostentation, and a grievous deficiency of strength and originality. It is likely, moreover, to have a very unpleasant and irritating effect, when apparent in popular compositions--in leading or other articles in newspapers, for instance--viz. on occasions where the persons addressed, or at least very many of them, do not comprehend or appreciate the allusion or quotation. A really classical turn of mind is usually accompanied by too fine and correct a taste to admit of these eccentricities and vagaries. The English language is a very fine language, my friends; and a very, _very_ fine and rare thing it is to be able to use it with freedom, and purity, and power. Another very censurable kindred habit of many of our public writers is, the interlarding their compositions with abominable scraps of French, and even of Italian. Faugh!--is not this adding insult to injury, in dealing with the noble language of our country?

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A week has elapsed since I penned the foregoing sentences, and during that week only two things have occurred to me worthy of noticing. First, a couple (apparently newly married) put up for a few hours at the little inn in the village. They were both of a certain age. _He_ wore a ponderous watch-chain and seals; she also was sufficiently bedizened after the same fashion. Twice I encountered them. First, on the seashore, where they took their seat very coolly on the rock next adjoining _my_ old perch, which I was then occupying. After some considerable swagger, my gentleman produced a newspaper from his pocket, and distinctly said to his fair companion--"What an uncommon good thing the Illus_trious London News_ is for the lower classes!" Second, the worthy couple were walking together, at a subsequent period of the day, laden with provender for an open-air lunch--with sandwiches and a black bottle, and with a matter-of-fact air, turned into a beautifully disposed rustic walk, having palpable _indicia_ of privacy--it belonging, in fact, to the residence of a nobleman. My lord's gentleman, or gentleman's gentleman, happening to meet them, (I passing at the time,) asked them, with great courtesy of manner, if they were aware "that that was private property?" "Well," replied our male friend angrily, "and what if it is? I thought an Englishman might go any where he pleased in his own country, _provided he didn't do any mischief_. But come along, my dear," giving his arm to his flustered companion, "times are come to a pretty pass, aren't they?" With this, the offended dignities retraced their steps, but prodigiously slowly, and I saw no more of them.--The other occurrence was a dream, as odd, as obstinate in adherence to my memory. Methought I went one day to church to hear a revered elderly relative of mine preach. The church was crammed with an attentive and solemnly-disposed audience, whom the preacher was addressing very calmly but seriously, without gown or bands, but wearing two neckerchiefs, one resting upon the topmost edge of the other, and being of blue silk, with white spots! Though aware of this slight departure from clerical costume, it occasioned me no surprise, but I listened with serious attention. 'Twas only when I had awoke that the fantastic absurdity of the thing became apparent.

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The "British Association" has just been making, at Southampton, as I see by the papers, one of its annual exhibitions of childish inanity. This sort of thing appears to me to be humiliating to the country, in respect of so many men of real scientific eminence, like Sir John Herschel and Dr Faraday, and one or two others, permitting themselves to be trotted out on such occasions for the amusement of the vulgar, and, in doing so, countenancing the herd of twaddling ninnies who figure on these occasions as spouters, or patronising listeners to the fluent confident sciolists of the various "sections." I can fancy one of these personages carefully bottling up against the day of display, some such precious discovery as that of "a peculiar appearance in the flame of a candle!"--which actually formed the subject of a paper at the last meeting; or, "on certain magnetic phenomena attending corns on the human foot,"--which latter, after a stiff debate as to the propriety of publishing it, is not, it seems, at present, to edify the world at large. The whole thing is resolvable into a paltry love of lionising, and being lionised--of enacting the part of prodigies before pretty admiring women, and simpering simpletons of the other sex. 'Tis an efflorescence of that vicious system which of late years continually manifests itself in the shape of flaunting _reunions_, _soirées_, _conversazioni_, &c. &c., where is to be heard little else than senile garrulity, the gabble of ignorant eulogy, or virulent envious depreciation and detraction. 'Tis true that distinguished scientific foreigners now and then make their appearance at the meetings of the Association; but there can be little doubt that they come over in utter ignorance of the really trifling character of those meetings, misled by the eager exaggerations of their friends and correspondents in this country. Can you conceive any thing more preposterous in its way, than the chartering of the steam-boat by the Association, to convey its members from Southampton to the Isle of Wight on a geological expedition? Methinks I see the crowd of "venerable boys"--to adopt the bitterly-humorous language of the _Times_--landing at Black Gang Chine, each with his bag slung round him, and hammer in hand, dispersing about, rap! rap! rap!--chick! chick! chick!--and fondly fancying that they are effectually learning, or teaching, geology, in the hour or two thus idled away! _Can_ any thing be more exquisitely absurd? Bah! all this might be harmless and pleasant enough, in the way of a holiday recreation for school-boys or girls; but for grave, grown-up men--peers, baronets, knights, doctors, F.R.S., F.A.S.'s, &c. &c.,--the thing really does not bear dwelling upon.

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"I can have no hesitation, to whatever amount of obloquy, or of forfeited friendship, the avowal may expose me, in stating the conclusion, which anxious and repeated consideration of the state of Ireland has at length forced upon me, (_Cheers._) It is, that the time has arrived for reconsidering the state of our relations with Ireland, with a view to a repeal of the Legislative Union between the two countries, (_Hear, hear._) I see no other adequate remedy for the ills which desolate that unhappy country, and think that such a step would also happily free England from a burden long felt to be intolerable, (_Hear._) I am fortified in arriving at this result, by a review of the favourable effects produced on Ireland by the measures which, during the last few years, I have had the honour to bring forward in this house, and see carried into effect by the legislature, (_Cheers._) I am aware that this avowal may startle some of the more timid (_hear, hear_) of those gentlemen who have usually done me the honour to act with me; but an imperious sense of duty compels me to be prompt and explicit upon this vital question, which I am fixedly resolved to settle in the way I propose; and I will, for that purpose, avail myself of every means which the constitution places at the disposal of her Majesty's responsible advisers, (_Cheers._) * * * I claim no credit for proposing this great measure of justice and mercy, nor wish to detract from the merit due to those whose minds the light of truth and reason reached earlier than mine. Whatever credit is due, I have no hesitation in ascribing to--_Daniel O'Connell_," (_Cheers._) * * * * Is there a man in the empire who would be seriously surprised if he were to hear Sir Robert Peel make the above statement in the next session of Parliament, if he met the house once more as Prime Minister? And so, in the session after, might we expect a similar announcement with reference to the Protestant succession to the throne; and then--but by no means to stop even there--the conversion of our form of government from a limited monarchy into a republic. What, in short, may not be predicted of such a statesman as Sir Robert Peel? Who can conceive of him taking his stand _any where_? Assisting _any body_ or _any thing_? It pains me to ask, whether the history of this country ever saw a man who had done so many things, the impropriety and danger of which he had himself uniformly beforehand _demonstrated_? Sir Robert Peel has been converted into a sort of political pillar of salt--a melancholy instructive memento of the evils of unprincipled statesmanship--the former word being used, not in a vulgar offensive sense, but as signifying, simply and solely, _the absence of any fixed principles of political action_; or the habit of action irrespective of principle. I will not, however, pursue this painful and humiliating topic further, than to express the deep concern and perplexity occasioned to me, amongst hundreds of thousands of others, by the recent movements of Sir Robert Peel. I have never thought or spoken of him, up even to the present moment, otherwise than with sincere respect for his spotless personal character, and the highest admiration of his intellectual and administrative qualities. I would scout the very faintest insinuation against the purity of his motives, at the same time loudly expressing my concern and amazement at witnessing such conduct as his, in _such_ a man!

"Who would not weep if such a man there be-- Who would not weep if Atticus were he?"

I said just now, that Sir Robert Peel's signal characteristic was the doing things, the impropriety and danger of doing which he had himself beforehand demonstrated; and that was the reflection with which I yesterday concluded the perusal of a memorable little document which I took care to preserve at the time--I mean his national manifesto at the general election of 1841, in the shape of his address to the electors of Tamworth. Apply it now like a plummet to the edifice of Sir Robert Peel's political character; how conclusively it shows the extent to which it has diverged or swelled from the perpendicular line of right--how much he has departed from the standard which he had himself set up! What must be his feelings on recurring to such a declaration as this?

"That party," [the Conservative,] "gentlemen, has been pleased to intrust your representative with its confidence--(_cheers_;) and, notwithstanding all the remarks that have been made at various times, respecting differences of opinion and jealousy among them, you may depend upon it that they are altogether without foundation; and that that party which has paid me the compliment of taking my advice, and following my counsel, _are a united and compact party, among which there does not exist the slightest difference of opinion in respect to the principles they support, and the course they may desire to pursue. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I hope I have not abused the confidence of that great party."[66] (Loud cheers.)!!!_ I give the eloquent and eminent speaker credit for feeling a sort of twinge, a pang, a spasm, on reading the above. One more extract I will give relative to the recent conduct of Sir R. Peel on the sugar-duties:--"The question now is, gentlemen, whether, after the sacrifices which this country has made for the suppression of the slave-trade, and the abolition of slavery, and the glorious results that have ensued, and are likely to ensue from these sacrifices, we shall run the risk of losing the benefit of these sacrifices, and _tarnishing for ever that glory_, by admitting to the British markets sugar, the produce of foreign slavery? Gentlemen, the character of this country, in respect to slavery, is thus spoken of by one of the most eloquent writers and statesmen of another country, Dr Channing, of the United States:--'Great Britain, loaded with an unprecedented debt, and with a grinding taxation, contracted a new debt of a hundred millions of dollars, to give freedom, not to Englishmen, but to the degraded African. I know not that history records an act so disinterested, so sublime. In the progress of ages, England's naval triumphs will sink into a more and more narrow space on the records of our race. This moral triumph will fill a broader, brighter page.' _Gentlemen_," proceeded Sir Robert Peel, "_let us take care that this 'brighter page' be not sullied by the admission of slave sugar into the consumption of this country, by our unnecessary encouragement of slavery and the slave-trade._"[67]

Is it not humiliating and distressing to compare these sentences, and the lofty spirit which pervades them, with the speech, and the _animus_ pervading it, delivered by Sir Robert Peel in the House of Commons, on Lord John Russell's bringing in his bill for "sullying this bright page" of English glory? Did Sir Robert Peel, true to principle, solemnly and peremptorily announce the refusal of his assent to that cruel, and foolish, and wicked measure? I forbear to press this topic, also quitting it, with the expression of my opinion, that that speech alone was calculated to do him fearful and irreparable injury in public estimation. It is impossible for the most zealous and skilful advocacy to frame a plausible vindication of this part of Sir Robert Peel's conduct. I sincerely acquit him of having any sinister or impure motive; the fact was, simply, that he found that he had placed himself in a dire perplexity and dilemma.

I think it next to impossible that Sir Robert Peel can ever again be in a position, even if he desired it, to sway the destinies of this country, either as a prime minister, or by the force of his personal influence and opinion. Has he or has he not done rightly by the greatest party that ever gave its noble and ennobling support to a minister? Can he himself, in 1846, express the "hope" of 1841, that "he has not abused the confidence of that great party?" If he again take part in the debates of Parliament, he will always be listened to, whoever may be in power, with the interest and attention justly due to his masterly acquaintance with the conduct of the public business, most especially on matters of finance. But with what involuntary shrinking and distrust is his advocacy or defence of any of our great institutions likely to be received hereafter by their consistent and devoted friends? Will they not be prepared to find the splendid vindication of the preceding evening, but the prelude to the next evening's abandonment and denunciation? Is not, in short, the national confidence thoroughly shaken? His support and advocacy of any great interest are too likely to be received with guarded satisfaction--as far as they go, _as long as they continue_--not with the enthusiastic confidence due to surpassing and consistent statesmanship.

It has sometimes occurred to me, in scrutinising his later movements, that one of his set purposes was finally to break up the Conservative party, and scatter among it the seeds of future dissension and difficulty; possibly thinking, conscientiously, that in the state of things which he had brought about, the continued existence of a Conservative party with definite points of cohesion, with visible acknowledged rallying-points, could no longer be beneficial to the country. He may have in his eye the formation of another party, willing to accept of his leadership, after another general election; of which said new party his present few adherents are to form the nucleus. But I do not see how this is to be done. Confounding, for a time, to all party connexions and combinations as have been the occurrences of the last session, of perhaps the last two sessions, of Parliament, a steady watchful eye may already see the two great parties of the state--Liberal and Conservatives--readjusting themselves in conformity with their respective _general_ views and principles. The Conservative party has at the moment a prodigious strength of hold upon the country--not noisy or ostentatious, but real, and calculated to have its strength rapidly, though secretly, increased by alarmed seceders from the Liberal ranks, on seeing the spirit of change become more bold and active, and directing its steps towards the regions of revolution and democracy. Sir Robert Peel's speech, on resigning office, presented several features of an alarming character. Several of his sentences, especially with reference to Ireland,

--"made the boldest hold their breath For a time."

Candid persons did not see in what he was doing, the paltry desire to outbid his perplexed successors, but suspected that he was designedly--advisedly--laying down visible lines of eternal separation between him and his former supporters, rendering it impossible for him to return to them, or for them to go over to him; and so at once putting an extinguisher upon all future doubts and speculation. To me it appeared that the speech in question evidenced an astounding revolution--astounding in its suddenness and violence--of the speaker's political system; announcing _results_, while other men were only just beginning to see the process. Will Sir Robert Peel join Lord John Russell? What, serve under him, and become a fellow-subordinate of Lord Palmerston's? I think not. What post would be offered to him? What post would _he_, the late prime minister, consent to fill under his victorious rival? Will, then, Lord John Russell act under Sir Robert Peel? Most certainly--at least in my opinion--not. What then is to be done, in the event of Sir Robert Peel's being willing to resume official life? _Over_ whom, _under_ whom, _with_ whom, is he to act? The Conservative party have already elected his successor, Lord Stanley, who cannot, who will not be deposed in favour of _any_ one; a man of very splendid talents, of long official experience, of lofty personal character, of paramount hereditary claims to the support of the aristocracy, who has never sacrificed consistency, but rather sacrificed every thing for consistency. Ever since he accepted the leadership of the great Conservative party, he has evinced a profound sense of its responsibilities and requirements, and the possession of these qualifications in respect of prudence and moderation, which some had formerly doubted. Lord Stanley, then, will continue the Conservative leader, and Lord John Russell the Liberal leader; and I doubt whether any decisive move will be made till after the ensuing general election. What will be the result of it? What will be the rallying-cries of party? What will Sir Robert Peel say to the Tamworth electors?

However these questions may be answered, I would, had I the power, speak trumpet-tongued to our Conservative friends in every county and borough in the kingdom, and say, "up, and be doing." Spare no expense or exertion, but do it prudently. Use every instrument of legitimate influence--for the stake played for is tremendous; the national interests evidently marked out for assault, are vital; and they will stand or fall, and we enjoy peace, or be condemned to agitation and alarm, according to the result of the next General Election, which will assuredly palsy the hands of either the friends or enemies of the best interests of the country.