Part 15

But, it is time that we should enter into some examination of the character of this work, and show our reasons for the disapprobation of it as a poem and a satire, which we have so freely expressed.

It will be admitted, we presume, that, when an author does not succeed in accomplishing his design, his work is a failure. The design of the author of this poem was, as we are informed by the title-page, to write a satire, has he done so? Those who are loudest in commendation of the poem, have acknowledged its satirical portions to be feeble, and without point. But they contend that it contains a sufficiency of good poetry of another description, to atone for this defect. We confess that we have not been fortunate enough, after a careful perusal, to discover this redeeming poetry. Whether it be of the sentimental, descriptive, or ethical species, we therefore cannot tell. Perhaps it is an ingenious mingling of them in one mass, in which the beauties of each, conceal those of the others from view? If so, how many disinterested readers will submit to the trouble of extricating them from the confusion in which they lie, so as to see them distinctly, and become fully aware of their _latent_ splendour? We attempted, as in duty bound, to hunt for these gems. We discovered a few that sparkled a little,--but they were indeed so few, and their lustre so faint, that we could not consider them worth the labour of exploring one moiety of the abundance of rubbish in which they are buried. We believe that the generality of readers will be equally disappointed; and that the book will be almost invariably laid down with a feeling that it is tedious, awkward, and dull,--in short, in respect to its _poetical_ as well as its satirical character, a failure without redemption.

But the author calls it a satire. It is therefore as a satire, that it ought to be judged. In our opinion, it is no more a satire than a sermon; nay, we have read sermons in which the satiric thong is wielded with much more effect against wickedness and folly, than in this production. We need not enter into a philological explanation of the term satire,--the word is common enough, and we presume that every reader who understands plain English, knows its meaning. To render vice disgusting, and folly ridiculous, is the legitimate office of the satirist. Sarcasm and wit are his most usual and effectual weapons. Ridicule and reprobation are also used; the former when the intention is to excite derision, and the latter when the arousing of indignation is the object. The great aim of the satirist ought always to be the reformation of depraved morals, corrupt institutions, absurd customs, or offensive manners. The contemporary prevalence of such, is what excites his indignation, or provokes his ridicule; and, if he possesses power and dexterity to apply the lash, he performs a real service to society, and acquires a deserved and enviable name among the useful and agreeable writers of the day.

Has Mr. Bulwer applied the lash in this manner? Against what vice does he awaken the indignation of his readers, or what folly does he expose to their contempt? We ask for information, for we have not, with our best efforts, been able ourselves to make the discovery. It is true, that, in the perusal of his work, we met with some awkward attempts to be witty at the expense of Basil Hall, the Duke of Wellington, Thomas Moore, Joseph Hume, and two or three others of the conspicuous characters of the times. But, if satire never launches keener arrows against these men, than are to be found in this book, we fear that, whatever may be their faults or foibles, no dread of her power will induce them to reform. The only feelings they can experience from the harmless missiles of Mr. Bulwer, are pity for his vanity, and contempt for his weakness.

There is but one passage in this long poem which contains upwards of eight thousand lines, that deserves to be called satirical. It is in relation to the missionary Hodges. In this some tolerable _hits_ are made at the union of selfishness and prejudice which too frequently characterize the religious missionaries of all sects, who are employed by the zeal of the wealthy and pious at home, to convert to Christianity the heathen inhabitants of foreign countries. The missionary in question, who is the only character in the work drawn with any power of dramatic conception, is represented as haranguing the people of Siam on the inferiority of their institutions to those of England, (in which, by the by, neither Americans nor Englishmen will be apt to discover much satire,) and threatening, in language as coarse as that of the canting Maworm, to reform them, whether they will or not, from the evil ways of their ancestors. We shall quote part of the passage, and as it is unquestionably the cleverest satirical portion of the whole poem, the friends of Mr. Bulwer cannot accuse us of doing him injustice by the selection.--

"Accordingly our saint one day, Into the market took his way, Climbed on an empty tub, that o'er Their heads he might declaim at ease, And to the rout began to roar In wretched Siamese. 'Brethren! (for every one's my fellow, Tho' I am white, and you are yellow,) Brethren! I came from lands afar To tell you all--what fools you are! Is slavery, pray, so soft, and glib a tie, That you prefer the chain to liberty? Is Christian faith a melancholy tree, That you will only sow idolatry? Just see to what good laws can bring lands, And hear an outline of old England's. Now, say if _here_ a lord should hurt you, Are you made whole by legal virtue? For ills by battery or detraction, Say, can you bring at once your action? And are the rich not much more sure To gain a verdict than the poor? With us alike the poor or rich, Peasant or prince, no matter which-- Justice to all the law dispenses, And all it costs--are the expenses! _Here_ if an elephant you slay, Your very lives the forfeit pay: Now that's a _quid pro quo_--too seri- Ous much for beasts _naturae ferae_.

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_These_ are the thing's that best distinguish men-- These make the glorious boast of Englishmen! More could I tell you were there leisure, But I have said enough to please, sure: Now then if you the resolution Take for a British constitution, A British king, church, commons, peers-- I'll be your guide! dismiss your fears. With Hampden's name and memory warm you! And, d--n you all--but I'll reform you! As for the dogs that wont be free, We'll give it them most handsomely; To church with scourge and halter lead 'em, And thrash the rascals into freedom."

This fine speech, it appears, had much the same effect on its auditors, that we believe Mr. Bulwer's poem will have on nine-tenths of his readers;--it produced a sensation of disdain for the understanding as well as the principles of its author. Under the influence of this feeling, the men of Siam could not forbear executing a practical joke on the orator. They elevated him in a palanquin, raised by means of tall poles, to a great height above their heads; from which altitude, after parading him in mock triumph through the streets of their chief city, they, with little regard to consequences, tossed him into the air. The poem says--

"So high he went, with such celerity, It seemed as for some god-like merit he Carried from earth, like great Alcides, To Jupiter's ambrosial side is. But, oh! as maiden speakers break Ev'n so, (while fearing to be crushed Each idler from beneath him dodges), Swift, heavy--like an avalanche--rushed To earth the astonished form of Hodges. He lay so flat, he lay so still, He seemed beyond all farther ill. They pinched his side, they shook his head, And then they cried, 'The man is dead!' On this, each felt no pleasing chill; For ev'n among the Bancockeans, A gentleman for fun to kill, Is mostly punished--in plebeians. They stare--look serious--mutter--cough-- And then, without delay, sneak off; Nor at a house for succour knocked, or Thought once of sending for the doctor."

The twins, Chang and Ching, remain behind, and taking pity on the maltreated missionary, convey him to their father's house, which was convenient. Here he is treated with kindness, and soon recovers of the contusions and a broken leg, occasioned by his fall.

A notable scheme now seized the fertile brain of the money loving missionary. The _lusus naturae_ which connected the bodies of the twins, he conceived would render their exhibition profitable in England. He obtained the consent of their father to carry them to Europe, by stipulating to allow them one-half of the earnings of their exhibition. The acquiescence of the youths themselves he easily procured by inflaming their curiosity to witness the glory and happiness of England, which he described in the most glowing terms of national panegyric.

The twins, however, resolved to consult one of the magicians of the country relative to the result of their intended enterprise, before they should commit themselves to the care of an absolute stranger who was to convey them so far from home. The account of this consultation--the temple of the magician--his manner of consulting the fates, and the mystical style of his addressing the twins, form by much the most fanciful and readable portion of the book, and would certainly entitle the author to some credit for wild and weird conceptions, were it not for the unfortunate circumstance, that the whole is a palpable imitation of the celebrated incantation scene in Der Freischutz. It is also infested with the besetting sin of the whole poem, prolixity. Mr. Bulwer too plainly shows in this work, that he is a bookmaker by profession, and if the faculty of hammering a given number of ideas into as many words as possible, be a useful branch of the craft, it is one in which he has assuredly few competitors.

The arrival of Hodges and the twins in London, is at length announced in the newspapers, and then begins what the author unquestionably intended should be the principal business of the poem--namely, the quizzing of London life and manners--or to use his own phrase, satirizing the times. The idea of bringing Oriental strangers to Europe in order to exhibit their surprise at witnessing customs and manners totally different from those of their own country, is rather stale, and the humour of it, if there be any humour in it, has been exhausted by much finer writers than Mr. Bulwer has as yet shown himself to be. Various essayists, both of France and England, have had recourse to this method of exposing the vices and absurdities of their respective countries. Turkish spies, Persian envoys, and Chinese philosophers, have all been brought into requisition for this purpose. No novelty, therefore, can be claimed for the employment of our Siamese adventurers on such trodden ground. It is, indeed, sufficiently apparent, that the idea of making them a vehicle for satire upon the English, was suggested by Goldsmith's Citizen of the World. To try his strength with such a writer as Goldsmith, especially in the walks of satire, was at least courageous on the part of Bulwer; and if any circumstance could, in our estimation, atone for his woful failure, it would be the hardihood which induced him to make the attempt. We believe no reader ever became wearied of perusing Goldsmith's Citizen of the World. But how any reader can toil through this Siamese production, without becoming exhausted, we own is beyond our comprehension.

In London, the twins meet with various adventures, which, no doubt, the author intended should be extremely amusing to the reader. To us they appear extremely jejune and silly. For instance, Lady Jersey sends one of them a ticket of admission to Almacks, without recollecting to pay the same compliment to the other. On appearing for entrance, the door-keeper refuses to admit him who had been neglected. This obstacle, of course, prevents the other from availing himself of his right to enter. Lady Cowper, however, very soon sets all right by furnishing them with another ticket. Now what there is either facetious or satirical in this, we confess we cannot conceive. Equally silly is the incident of the one brother being seized by a recruiting sergeant who had enlisted him, while the other is arrested by a bailiff for debt. But as the brothers cannot be separated, they get clear, the recruiting officer not daring to carry off Ching who had not enlisted, and the bailiff being equally afraid of the consequence of imprisoning Chang against whom he had no writ--an old joke.

Now such bungling inventions appear to us insufferable. In the first place, there is no emotion whatever, either of surprise, merriment, or pity, awakened by the narrative, and in the next, the occurrences are so contrary to all probability, that even poetical license, in its fullest range, will not sanction their introduction. The deformity of the twins would render either of them ineligible to be enlisted. The bailiff's writ might, it is true, authorize the arrest of one only; but even that is inconsistent with the statement previously made that their earnings and expenses were all in common. We should suppose, therefore, that no creditor would make such an invidious distinction between partners so closely connected. These inconsistencies, however, might be pardoned, if the stories were told with sufficient sprightliness and vigour to make them interesting. But when an ill-contrived tale is drowsily told, the reader must possess an immense fund of good nature not to scold the author in his heart.

We shall pass over the rest of these dull adventures, which rebuke no vice, and satirize no folly, and shall give a very brief outline of the remainder of the poem. The brothers, unlike the real twins from whom the title of the poem is borrowed, are represented as of entirely different characters. Chang's disposition is grave, contemplative, and sentimental, while Ching is light-hearted, gay, and volatile. Their protector, Hodges, has a handsome daughter, with whom the meditative Chang falls in love; but, without any apparent cause, he imagines that she has given her heart to Ching. He becomes exceedingly jealous, and absurdly enough, considering the nature of their connexion, meditates the murder of his brother. He however discovers his mistake in time to prevent the deed, and feels a reasonable share of remorse. In the meantime, Mary, the lady in question, who commiserates their condition, contrives, while they are asleep, to introduce a surgeon and his assistant, who successfully cut through the connecting bond of flesh, and, to the great joy of Chang, who had long felt much mortification at the unnatural union, they are separated. Chang now cherishes strong hopes of becoming acceptable to Mary, which are destined soon to be blasted for ever. By an incident which detracts much from the sentimental dignity with which he has been hitherto invested, for it represents him as an eavesdropper, he discovers that she is irrevocably engaged to her cousin, who is called Julian Laneham. This discovery arouses him to a certain fit of magnanimity. He understands that Mary's father objects to her union with Laneham, on account of the young man's poverty. He suddenly disappears; and four days afterwards, two letters are received, one by Hodges, and one by Ching, which, as the author says, "shows the last _denouement_ of the story." The public curiosity had rendered the brothers rich; and in his letter to Hodges, Chang generously bestows on him his share of their property, on condition that he will give his daughter to Laneham.

The old gentlemen agrees to the compact; and if the reader should have patience enough to carry him so far through the book, he will, towards its conclusion, be rewarded with a marriage, according to the old established laws of romance writing. Why did Mr. Bulwer so far forget the "originality of matter and of manner," in other words, the new school of poetry, which he promised us in the preface, as to put us off with so trite a conclusion?

In a passage towards the close of the poem, the indomitable egotism of our author appears, in a curious allusion which he makes to the failure of his efforts to become a member of parliament at the last general election. His hero Laneham, for he is the true hero of the work, had been a more successful candidate for the people's favour. The poet says, without jealousy, we presume,--

"Moreover in the late election He won a certain Burgh's affection. Dined--drank--made love to wife and daughter, Poured ale and money forth like water, And won St. Stephen's Hall to hear This parliament _may_ last a year! The sire's delight you'll fancy fully-- He thinks he sees a second Tully; And gravely says he will dispense With Fox's force and Brinsley's wit, So that our member boast the sense Of that great statesmen--Pilot Pitt! For me, my hope lies somewhat deeper; We'll now, they say, be governed _cheaper!_ So Julian, pour your wrath on robbing, And keep a careful eye on jobbing. If you should waver in your choice To whom to pledge your vote and voice, You'll waver only, we presume, Between an Althorpe and a Hume. But mind--ONE vote--o'er all you hold, And let the BALLOT conquer GOLD. Don't utterly forget those asses,-- Ridden so long,--the lower classes; But waking from sublimer _visions_, Just see, poor things! to their _provisions_. Let them for cheap bread be your debtor, Cheap justice, too--that's almost better. And though not bound to either College, Don't clap a turnpike on their knowledge.

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And ne'er forget this simple rule, boy, Time is an everlasting schoolboy, And as his trowsers he outgoes, Be decent, nor begrudge him clothes.

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In these advices towards your policy, Many, dear Julian, will but folly see; Yet what I preach to you to act is But what _had been your author's practice_, Had the mercurial star that beams Upon elections blessed his dreams, Had--but we ripen with delay, And every dog shall have his day!"

From the last couplet, it appears, that our author has not yet relinquished his expectations of being gratified with a seat in St. Stephens.

In the following concluding lines, which succeed those we have just quoted, the Twins are finally disposed of. We insert them here as a notable instance of long efforts to kindle a blaze, at last dying away in the suffocation of their own smoke.--

"And Ching?--poor fellow!--Ching can never His former spirits quite recover; Yet he's agreeable as ever, And plays the C----k as a lover. In every place he's vastly _feted_, His name's in every lady's book; And as a wit I hear he's rated Between the Rogers's and Hook.

But Chang?--of him was known no more, Since, Corsair like, he left the shore. Wrapped round his fate the cloud unbroken, Will yield our guess nor clew nor token. He runs unseen his lonely race, And if the mystery e'er unravels The web around the wanderer's trace-- I fear we scarce could print his travels. Since tourists every where have flocked, The market's rather overstocked-- And so we leave the lands that need 'em Throughout this 'dark terrestrial ball,' To be well visited by freedom,-- And slightly nibbled at by Hall!"

ART. VI.--_Europe and America; or, the relative state of the Civilized World at a future period. Translated from the German of_ Dr. C. F. VON SCHMIDT-PHISELDEK, _Doctor of Philosophy, one of his Danish Majesty's Counsellors of State, Knight of Dannebrog, &c. &c._ By JOSEPH OWEN. Copenhagen: 1820.

Although the translator of this book professes in his Preface to have been principally induced to undertake the task by "the desire of being the humble instrument of imparting to the American nation, that picture of future grandeur and happiness, which the author so prophetically holds out to them," we believe it is but little known among the readers of this country. Yet it is in every respect a very interesting and curious work. It will be seen by the title-page, that it was not only translated into, but printed in English, at Copenhagen, with the view of disseminating a knowledge of its contents among the people of the United States. Yet we do not recollect that it was noticed at the time of its publication in any of our critical journals, and the only copy that has ever fallen under our notice is that now before us, which has been in our possession many years. Nevertheless, it is the work of a man of very extensive views, and of deep sagacity. His speculations on the state of the different kingdoms of Europe, in relation to the past and the present, seem to us equally just and profound; and the predictions which ten years ago the author announced to the world, are every day, nay, almost every hour, becoming matters of history.

It has been said, and said reproachfully, that the people of the United States are somewhat boastful and presumptuous. One reason doubtless is, that they have had to bear up on one hand against much obloquy and injustice, and on the other against certain airs of affected superiority on the part of the nations of Europe, equally offensive. Those who are perpetually assailed, are perpetually called upon to defend themselves; and what in other cases would be an offensive pretension, is, in ours, simply self-defence. It is not boasting, but a manly assertion of what is due to ourselves, in reply to those who take from us what is our right. But even if the charge of national pride were true, we are among those who rather approve than lament it. National pride is a commendable and manly feeling; it is the parent of virtue and greatness--the foundation of a noble character; and if the nation which has led the way in the bright path of freedom--which, young as it is, has become already the beacon, the example, the patriarch of the struggling nations of the world--has not a fair right to be proud, we know not on what basis national pride ought to erect itself.

For these reasons, we feel no hesitation in calling the attention of the people of the United States, to a work eminently calculated to awaken the most lofty anticipations of the destiny which awaits them. Nothing but good can come of such contemplations of the future. They will serve to impress upon the nation the necessity of being prepared for such high destiny; of fitting herself to maintain it with honour and dignity; of attaching herself, heart and hand, body and soul, to that sacred union of opinions, interests, and reflections, which alone can lead us steadily onward in the path of prosperity, happiness, and glory.

"The 4th of July in the year 1776," observes Dr. Von Schmidt, "points out the commencement of a new period in the history of the world. Not provoked to resistance by the intolerable oppression of tyrannical power, but merely roused by the arbitrary encroachments upon well earned, and hitherto publicly acknowledged principles, the people of the United States of North America declared themselves on that memorable day independent of the dominion of the British Islands, generally speaking mild and benevolent in itself, and under which they had hitherto stood as colonies, in a state, not of slavish servitude, but of partial guardianship, under the protection of the mother country."