 | A sketch of old England |  |
LETTER XVII.
When I have nothing else to attract my attention, which is
pretty often the case in this very dull city, I amuse myself
with attending the debates in parliament, that are sometimes
interesting from the subjects under discussion. In this way,
I have had an opportunity of hearing the ablest speakers, on
topics that afforded the best opportunities for the display of
their talents. On a late occasion, in a question connected with
African slavery, (a fruitful subject for declamation) Mr. Wilberforce,
Mr. Brougham, Sir James Mackintosh, Lord Londonderry,
in turn complained of the encouragement given to the slave
trade by many of the European powers, in possession of colonies
in the West Indies, and at the same time reluctantly acknowledged,
that our abandoned Republic was the only
government that heartily and in good earnest co-operated with
them in their efforts to prevent it.
Humanity, when in its pure state, and uncontaminated by
any mixture of interest or passion, is a widely extended and
comprehensive feeling. It comprehends not merely one colour,
one nation, and one quarter of the globe, but the whole
human race in a greater or less degree. To oppress one people,
and at the same time affect great commiseration for
another, is not humanity, but hypocrisy. It is assuming a
cloak for some interested purpose; either to impose upon
the credulity of the world for objects of gain or ambition, or
to prop up a falling reputation. If this government were
really and sincerely actuated by a principle of humanity, not
altogether confined to the colour of the epidermis, why
has it lately permitted the Mussulmen to exercise the most
cruel outrages on the Greeks; to carry on a war of extermination
against Christians, who believe in the same Saviour as
the people of England? Why did not Lord Strangford, the
English ambassador at the Porte, while dining with the Grand
Seignior, an honour never before conferred on a christian dog,
and basking in the sunshine of Ottoman favour—why did he
not take the opportunity to interfere to prevent the indiscriminate
massacre of christians, men, women, and children?
—Why?—because he enjoyed this very favour at the price
of giving them up to the butcher — at the price of refusing
admission on board the English vessels in the Archipelago,
to those christian Greeks that fled from the Mussulman
tyrant, who had issued a declaration that their existence
could no longer be tolerated — and from the very
first, siding with Mussulman executioners against christian
victims; and the issuing of a declaration, prohibiting the
Ionians, who are under English protection, from assisting their
countrymen upon pain of death—at the price of giving an
English escort to Turkish ships, loaded with men and
stores, for the purpose of bringing a christian people to the
sabre and the bowstring of an infidel oppressor—in short, at
the price of abandoning all the obligations of justice, humanity,
and religion.
Why did not Lord Strangford, at this auspicious moment,
when the existence of the Ottoman power depended on the diversion
made by England and Austria, stipulate with the
carried on in all parts of his empire, and under which thousands
of WHITE CHRISTIAN SLAVES are every day sold in the
markets of every Turkish city? A glorious opportunity offered
itself to establish the reputation of British humanity
beyond all question, by a stipulation in favour of white christian
slaves, similar to that in behalf of black pagan ones.
The interests of humanity would be better served by the former
than by the latter. I have no particular disposition to question
the motives of Mr. Wilberforce, in his long and persevering
efforts to procure the abolition of the African slave trade;
but whatever were his motives, I cannot but be of opinion,
that by making slaves more valuable in the colonies than they
were before, he has offered temptations of profit, more than
equivalent to the difficulties thrown in the way of the trade.
But the best men are apt to overlook obvious consequences in
their headlong zeal to benefit mankind. Good intentions are
common enough; but the wisdom to direct them to practical
good is seldom their companion.
The better sort of members, such as Mr. Brougham,
Mr. Wilberforce, Sir James Mackintosh, and others, are
exceedingly worthy, useful, and able men. They discuss
some questions with a sagacity and extent of research, highly
honourable to themselves and to the country, reminding me
not unfrequently of Mr. —, Mr. —,
Mr. —, and others of the late members of our congress.
But shall I venture upon the heresy? Shall I dare, in the face
of old habits, prejudices, and opinions fostered by education,
strengthened by books, and the example of all around you, to
assert, that these men are not equal to the orators just named?
And yet this is as true as that you are alive. With the exception
of Mr. Canning, there is scarcely the shadow of an orator
in the house of commons; and the house of lords is, beyond
all doubt, the most sleepy place in England, except the Italian
opera and Mr. Campbell's lectures.
Mr. Brougham is a laborious speaker. To me there appears
something somewhat grotesque in his attempts at impassioned
oratory, wherein he occasionally displays his zeal and warmth
in contortions of face and figure nearly approaching to the ludicrous.
He has an iron face and an iron figure, both equally
divested of grace or majesty, nor does his action or expression
make amends for these deficiencies of face and person. Yet
his habits of laborious investigation and research, his extensive
range of memory, and his capacity for intellectual arrangement,
make him, on the whole, a useful man of business, and
a powerful pleader; for his eloquence is little more than special
he is at most, however, but second rate. He is much
better in subjects where mere labour and investigation are required,
and is pre-eminent on school committees and parliamentary
inquiries, where he listens with the patience of a judge,
and sifts the evidence with the indefatigable sagacity of a
thorough-bred lawyer. But I have heard him occasionally on
subjects of foreign policy, wherein the talents of a statesman
are put to the test, and was surprised at his crudeness, as well
as want of extent of idea and accuracy of information. I certainly
have heard a member from our woods talk more sensibly,
and display more statesman-like views of the relation of
European nations with each other, and with the United States.
This lameness, however, in the discussion of great political
questions, seems common to almost all the great men here,
either because those of the opposition do not know the state of
their relations with foreign powers, and those of the cabinet do
not choose to tell; or from a want of that enlargement of intellect
which is the peculiar characteristic of a great statesman.
I will do the opposition the justice to say, that they cannot, as
they do in our congress, get whatever information they ask
from the executive, and are therefore often obliged to grope in
the dark. But Lord Londonderry certainly is in all the secrets,
as foreign secretary, and he talks like a rebus, seemingly employing
the whole force of his understanding in withholding,
rather than communicating information. It is quite laughable
to hear the Corinthian members cry, “hear, hear!” when he
says any thing beyond the comprehension of mortal man. I
certainly never saw a more laborious speaker; but his labour
seems most preposterously employed, not in enlightening his
hearers, but in perplexing their understandings in an equal degree
with his own, by which means alone he seems to expect
to carry his point. His logic is the logic of a perplexed, rather
than a profound understanding, and his rhetoric is highly
worthy of his logic. There is a story told here of a gentleman,
who, after listening to his lordship for a long time, started
up at length in great haste, and on being questioned where he
was going, replied “to the house of peers, to know from
Lord Liverpool what Lord Castlereagh means.” His action
is that of a pump-handle when in brisk motion, as you may
have learned from Moore's epigram.
Sir James Mackintosh is, I think, a much better writer than
speaker, although a very powerful orator on the whole. He is
fluent and animated, but too florid and studied to appear natutural.
I can hardly tell what he wants to make him a fine
speaker, except it be nature, or that art which supplies its
which record passing events, and confer a nine days immortality,
one would suppose Sir James and his compeers
were giants of the race of those who warred against the gods,
with mountains and torrents of intellectual force and eloquence.
But I must again caution you to beware of the deceptions
practised upon us at home, by the monstrous and inflated style,
which it is now fashionable to use in speaking of every thing
rising above mediocrity. The system of puffing is at its most
alarming height in this country, and it is quite impossible for
the mere reader to judge of the merits of any public man.
They must be every thing, or nothing—superlatively great or
superlatively mean—the perfection of nature and intellect, or
the extreme of littleness and folly.
It is thus that such writers, as the author of “Peter's Letters
to his Kinsfolk,” and hundreds of similar delineators of character,
will speak of Edinburgh reviewers, and Ettrick
shepherds, as if the former were of that order of men, of whom
it is interesting to know, whether they wear short jackets or
long coats in the country, and the latter were a Burns, the
high priest of nature and simplicity, instead of the coarse and
vulgar humourist of Blackwood's Magazine. It is thus, too,
that every person and every thing, which fashion or party-spirit
idolizes for the moment, is wrought into the lineaments
of sublimity and greatness, while the real and genuine candidates
for immortality, like Sir James Mackintosh, are caricatured
by the coarse eulogists, who affect to know what is really
intellectual greatness, and have the consummate audacity to
pronounce sentence of immortality with a degree of indiscriminate
profligacy, that is quite sufficient to ruin a tolerable reputation.
Mr. Canning, for wit, grace, fluency, and satire, is excellent;
but he only skirmishes, for the most part, with an argument,
and is satisfied to raise a laugh rather than produce
conviction. He is, however, the only man in the house who
can keep the rotten borough-dandies awake during a speech,
with the exception of Lord Londonderry, to whom they are
bound in gratitude, or in hope, to listen, under the penalty of
not getting a good place or pension.
If Mr. Wilberforce was not a pious and good man, I should
say that he cants a little too much, and votes a little too often
with ministers. There is, however, a reason for all things.
Mr. Wilberforce is the political head and oracle of the methodists,
who are now a body of very considerable weight and
influence in parliament. I am of opinion there is a deal of
underhand courtship going on between the ministry and methodist
the queen's name from their liturgy, and the particular
attention paid by Lord Londonderry to Mr. Wilberforce's
opinions on all occasions. The established church begins to
be not a little jealous of this pious intrigue; and it is a fact
well known here, that Mr. Brougham's great national education
bill was smothered in these mutual fears and antipathies.
The dissenters and methodists, on one side, were afraid that it
would throw into the hands of the established church too great
opportunities of instilling their doctrines into the minds of the
young people; and the established church was dissatisfied, that
the act did not give it a more complete control over the religious
opinions of those who were to be educated under the
bill. All felt and acknowledged the want of education among
the poorer class; all professed a sincere desire that this want
should be supplied; but religious bigotry, or religious zeal, as
it is politely called, stepped in, and thus condemned the children
of the poor to ignorance, until they can reconcile these
conflicting interests.
In the mean time the methodists are gathering strength every
day. Their admirable system of worldly wisdom; their apparent
zeal and sanctity; their watchful industry, not only in
propagating their doctrines, but in stigmatizing those of other
sects, together with the aid which a spirit of fanaticism always
administers in the progress of a new religion, all combined,
have contributed vastly to the increase of their numbers and
influence. If I am not mistaken, the time is not far distant,
when they will either force an union with the established
church, or leave it in a minority. The methodists, and the
methodistical church of England people, are now strong in
parliament, and their force is daily increasing; for you will
recollect, that they have ever refused to be considered as dissenters
from the church of England, and that there is nothing
in the tests, to which an orthodox methodist may not conscientiously
accommodate himself.
I feel perfectly satisfied, that the weak, unsteady, and apparently
unpurposed opposition, is rather detrimental than
otherwise to the progress of reform in this country. The people
rely upon men who have neither the power, nor, I firmly
believe, the will, to breast the exigencies of the time, but who
are a knot of peddling, tinkering politicians, that talk big,
bluster finely, but are much more afraid of the Tower and the
attorney-general, than of arbitrary power and parliamentary
corruption. They are like your big fish, which are ever the
greatest cowards. Estimating their own importance most
highly, they are the first to run away; while the lesser fry,
and cooked for want of higher fare. These men will never
bring about a reform, such as is wanting to the prosperity of
the people of this country. Those who undertake this glorious
object, must not mind fine, pillory, or loss of ears. Nay, they
must, like the noble patriots of our revolution, take the step
that devotes them to death if they fail, to immortality if they
succeed. Even if they fail, from the blood and the ashes of
these unsuccessful victims, arises a host to consummate what
they but began.
Nothing can equal the pretty exchange of complimentary
eulogy, which occurs between the ministers and the opposition,
whenever the question of enlightening foreign nations, teaching
poor children to read, instead of giving their parents a chance
of paying by their labours for their education, and such like
excellent plans, come up. The noble Lord Londonderry cordially
co-operates with the honourable member; while the honourable
member seems infinitely delighted at the opportunity
of voting for once on the side of ministers, and extols their
humanity to negroes, instead of boldly and promptly exposing
their hypocrisy, by placing their conduct to the people of
England, Europe, Asia, and America, in contrast with this
simulated humanity, assumed only for the purpose of deceiving
mankind, and cheating the public opinion. Indeed, the opposition
snatches with such avidity at every opportunity to be
on good terms, and exchange civil speeches, that one cannot
help suspecting they would be happy to consummate a permanent
union, by surrendering the virgin purity of their patriotism
into the arms of ministerial piety and benevolence. I may
mistake, but in my poor opinion, the good people here stand
but a bad chance for a reform in parliament, or any other
branch of the government, if they depend upon the present
opposition.
Since the time that Mr. Fox led the opposition, there has
been no efficient one in the house of commons, any more than
there have been any true patriots since the days of Russell,
Hampden, and Sidney, who were willing to sacrifice life,
liberty, and a good name, in behalf of the principles of freedom.
It would seem, that almost all the stern, inflexible supporters
of human rights came over to our country, and there
planted the tree of liberty, which would not take root in England.
You may form some idea of Sir James Mackintosh's
notions of liberty, when I tell you that in this very debate, to
which I referred in the early part of this letter, he took an opportunity
to class the United States and Great Britain together,
as “two nations mutually sharing the same freedom.”
The art of raising the greatest possible quantity of money out
of the people, comprehends the whole mystery of the English
government. As I observed before, they are all very indifferent
speakers, with the exception of Mr. Canning, and with the
same exception, among the dullest persons in a society over
which the genius of dulness presides. I am aware that there
are two sorts of great men—those who talk wisely, and those
who act wisely. The former are only theoretically or abstractedly
wise; the latter practically so. It is difficult, indeed, to
tell a man by his talk. I have frequently met with men who
reversed Rochester's epitaph, and who never said a good thing
in their whole lives, yet always acted with the most provoking
wisdom, and always got the better of the great talkers. Still,
it is pretty certain, that no one who talks well can be a great
blockhead; and it is equally clear, I think, that many a great
blockhead has chanced to stumble, or be driven into a system
of policy, the accidental success of which has caused him to
pass for a sage. The present ministers have kept their places,
and lived to see the downfall of Napoleon: but they certainly
were particularly indebted to an early Russian frost, and a
weak opposition in parliament, for their triumphs.
Men of great and splendid talents are quite unnecessary in
the ministry, except when any invasion of the ancient privileges
of the people is meditated. Then Mr. Canning is put in
requisition, to ridicule his opponents and gloss over the measure.
At other times, Mr. Vansittart, or Lord Londonderry,
is just as good as a Madison, or a Hamilton. On occasions of
emergency, they send to France for Mr. Canning, to get Lord
Liverpool, or Lord Londonderry out of a scrape. Feeling, as
it would appear, his own consequence among these dull lords,
Mr. Canning sometimes takes the liberty, as in the case of the
Queen, to retire from the support of a ministerial measure. He
also keeps up a familiar intercourse in France with Anacreon
Moore, the writer of “Lascivious Lyrics,” as Mr. Adams
aptly calls him; though Moore is not only a public defaulter,
but has likewise made his present majesty quite as ridiculous,
as Peter Pindar did his revered father, George the Third—
for whose memory I have a great respect, ever since his acquittal,
as set forth in the laureat's immortal poem of “Judgment.”
The taking all these freedoms, shows, that both Mr.
Canning and the ministers feel that they cannot do without him
at a pinch. He is, indeed, now that poor Sheridan is gone, a
first-rate wit, a star in Bœotia; excellent at a jest, delightful
at a dinner table, but not very happy at alliteration, witness
the unlucky one of “the revered and ruptured Ogden.”
The ministerial wise-acres begin to suspect, that in putting
worn out world, they have fallen out of the frying-pan into
the fire. The best politicians of the last hundred years, have
always pointed the jealousies of Europe towards the Russian
empire. But present fears and pressing interests caused the
cabinets of Europe and England to lose sight of future dangers;
and there is not one of these powers, that does not look with
trembling solicitude towards every movement of the emperor
Alexander. The poor pageant, who occupies the throne of
France, has been, for some time, vacillating between a desire
to dissent from the policy of the Holy Alliance, and a fear of
the consequences. I have reason to be persuaded, that the
omission of King George to pay a visit to Paris originated in a
demur on the part of Louis, to a proposition of the British
cabinet in relation to the affairs of Greece and Turkey. Much
difficulty exists in the French cabinet on this head; and I have
but little doubt, that it will lead to a change of ministers, if
not of measures, in France.
The emperor of Austria, what between his fears of Russia,
and of books bound in Russian leather, has no heart, just now,
to attend to his favourite amusement of making sealing-wax.
It is rumoured in the — circle, that he fainted not long
ago at the smell of a book in Russian binding. The king of
Prussia is so busy in warring against the four-and-twenty letters,
and prosecuting authors for telling him the truth, that he has
no time to attend to any thing else. But he is said to have
very uneasy dreams. In fact, I assure you, there never was a
set of poor people in such desperate perplexity, between a desire
to restrain the projects of Russia, and a fear of the almost
inevitable consequences of a war—bankruptcy and revolution.
In the mean time, the Russian government has been at the
same moment negotiating a peace, and making preparations
for war. The Russian armies are at present more numerous
and efficient than those of all Europe besides, and are stationed
on the frontiers of Turkey in such a way, as that Constantinople
might be taken before the news of hostilities could reach
London. Well may the British ministry tremble if a war take
place. They have nothing left for it, but to swear there is no
danger until the danger arrives, and then set the Courier and
Quarterly Review abusing Alexander like a pickpocket. So
soon as I see this, I shall be sure there is difficulty with Russia;
for it is always the signal for some refractory movements on
the part of a foreign power. The first indication I had of the
probable assertion of its independence by the French government,
was from the abusive article in the Quarterly, which I
always set at obnoxious people, before the masters come to
blows.
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