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LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.- No. 56.-7 JUNE, 1845.
1. Do the Times make the Man?
Chambers' Journal, 5. O Rabequista,
Tait's Magazine, 6. Politics of America,
Times, 7. Pictures and Picture-Dealing,
Foreign Quarterly Review, 8. Bookselling in Great Britain,
Chambers' Journal, 9. The Mourner and Comforter,
Fraser's Magazine, 10. Where are we? .
Spectator, 11. Murder Will Out,
PAOR 441 442 443 451 452 455 457 471 474 483 484 486
From the Spectator. present views of what is fitting to be done for the DO THE TIMES MAKE THE MAN ? Irish ; a lucky accident, which, had it existed in
1800, would have crowned the endeavors of WilA witty writer of our day maintains, that liam Pitt to consolidate the Union on a secure whenever the times need such and such a charac. basis. And, which perhaps is not among the ter, it is sure to arise. He believes that the right least important circumstances of Sir Robert Peel's man ever comes to the surface of events; and position, the nation entertains a sober conviction, that the leading spirits in a community may be that his rivals, the whigs, are at once incapable regarded as exponents of the pervading senti- and insincere politicians; and, as such, it desires ments at the period. He holds that the anchorite no fresh experiment of their management of puband fakir denote the prevalence of ascetic religious lic affairs, coupled with perhaps a quarrel with feeling; the sturdy Luther, that of uneasy crav- our French neighbors, resulting from the personal ing after religious freedom of thought. The arrogance of a leading member of their party. searching reasonings of a Hobbes, he believes, With such fortunate accessory advantages on were prompted by a strong appetite in the seven- his side, it is difficult to determine whether Sir teenth century for philosophical theory; whilst Robert Peel is so much the product of his times, the mild and attractive but inconclusive writings as he is, simply, the only instrument suited to of a Dugald Stewart and a Mackintosh naturally them which is at our disposal. Nor, after all, is find favor with the less robust-minded community it very creditable to the generative force of “the of the nineteenth. These, out of many more times,” that one man should be found playing two examples, are cited in illustration of his proposi- such different parts in his life as Sir Robert Peel tion: which, nevertheless, we cannot allow to has assuredly done. That no one man has sprung supply a complete explanation of the success of upon the stage, possessing patriotic impulses particular individuals at given periods. There are and commanding qualities, with the fresh stamp accidental circumstances, in most cases, which and impress of his times upon him, would seem connect themselves with the qualities of the man, to negative, in some sort, the foregoing hypotheforming the vantage-ground from which he passes sis ; inasmuch as, for want of such a one to direct on to power or to fame. It is impossible, for in- a new form of things, we are obliged to adapt to stance, to treat of the political events that are the purpose one fashioned in an opposite school. passing before our eyes without admitting that Perhaps the real solution of this is to be found Sir Robert Peel does represent the actual condi- in the peculiar temper of our present transition tion of the reflecting mind of England; and that state. From the predominance of the desire for he deals with the government of the country peace and quiet, and the facilities they afford for accordingly, after a fashion that no other states- carrying out all sorts of material improvements in man would venture to practise. But there is no the community, the minister whose prudence can ground for believing that his personal talent and secure us from agitating discord is the man for pertinacious will are the whole cause of his the middle classes, to whom "order" is as the present ascendancy. The wealth to which our breath of life. The collective impersonation of premier succeeded by inheritance counts for much false pretences,” (as some one called the French in gaining the estimation and confidence of the Chamber,) which fills the halls of St. Stephen's, public of England, and stands quite apart from his no longer excites the community to any interest in personal character. Then, he is not a young man : its agency as an engine of government. This his age inspires a belief in his sagacity, which political collapse, whilst it is unfavorable to the would have been withheld from him twenty years production of a statesman-hero, is favorable to a ago; further, he has adopted a policy distasteful to government of expediency par excellence ; for the bulk of his party; which is a guarantee for his which, as has often been shown, Sir Robert Peel's sincerity in following it up, since their displeasure is extremely well suited. The day may come must cause him very considerable pain. The when a reconstructive genius shall be necessary, reigning monarch, again, happens to concur in his to mould anew the elements of controlling power
which recent dislocations and the action of new | ley's Comet ; The Atmosphere ; The New Plan-
Redding I Co. have sent us a copy of the Rev.
order. must either retrieve their errors or commit similar
SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, for May. Fortunately, no set of aspirants to office are found, just now, willing to turn the popular Tales, by T. S. Arthur. Published by S. Fer
The Club Room, AND OTHER TEMPERANCE prejudices to account, or we should reckon with less confidence than we do on the carrying of our
rett g Co., Philadelphia. We are not afraid to minister's conciliatory policy into effect. Nay, recommend, unread, anything from the warm we might even be destined to behold renewed co- heart and sound judgment of Mr. Arthur. ercion bills, backed by glittering bayonets, once
From Wiley & Putnam, New York. more at work in the Emerald Isle. But these, we trust, will never again be employed, unless,
We have just received a beautiful collection of after England and the English shall have ceased ten volumes of their Library of Choice Reading. to be in the wrong, the Irish forfeit their claim to This series is handsomely printed, upon fine paper our sympathy by refusing to be content with a fair and neatly done up. It is of the most convenient measure of reparation.
size for the gentle reader, and combines good
will have a very extensive sale, combining, as it
does, attractions for readers of all ages. We From Harper f Brothers, New York. copy the titles of the volumes, with a considerable Barnes' NotES ON THE Ephesians, Philip- proportion of which our readers have already PIANS AND COLOSSIANS. How much better is it made a favorable acquaintance by means of reto search the Scriptures for truth, than to exain- views which we have copied from the Foreign ine human writings for controversy.
Journals. WYOMING. A Tale.
1. EÖTHEN. DUTCHMAN'S FIRESIDE.
2. THE AMEER Witch. ILLUMINATED SHAKSPEARE, 51, 52.
3. UNDINE. ILLUMINATED Bible, 26, 27—coming to the
4. IMAGINATION AND Fancy, by Leigh Hunt. 24th of Isaiah.
5. DIARY OF LADY WILLOUGHBY. From D. Appleton & Co. New York.
6 and 9. Hazlitt's TABLE TALK. History of GERMANY, Parts 4 and 5 completing 7. HEADLONG HALL AND NIGHTMARE Abbey. this standard work, which reaches to the Downfall of Napoleon and the Holy Alliance. The
8. FRENCH IN Algiers, by Lady Gordon. modern portion is especially necessary to all who 10. ANCIENT MORAL TALES. would understand the movement which is soon to heave the whole mass of middle Europe.
We are desirous of doing whatever we can,
make known the publication of such a course, From Greeley 9 McElrath, New York. not doubting but that it will continue to deserve Dr. Lardner's Popular LECTURES, No. 2. the praise challenged by its motto froin Charles "The Minor Planets; Weather Almanacs; Hal- Lamb—" Books which are Books.”
From Jerrold's Magazine. shippers prepare it. But St. Giles will now know THE HISTORY OF ST. GILES AND ST. JAMES.
there is a government-a knot of the wise and good, whose harmonious souls combined make up
the music of the state ; the moral melody that "Guilty-Death!"
softens and refines the rugged, dull-eared mass. What familiar syllables were these in the good He will now know this; the hangman will teach old lines—the time of our history! In those hap- it him. A sharp, short lesson ; the first and last pier days, how many goods and chattels, live stock prepared him by a paternal state. and dead, were protected, watched by Death! “Guilty-death!" Such was the verdict. Tom Death was made by law the guardian of all things. Blast breathed heavily, and a faint smile flickered Prime agent, great conservator of social security — at his lips as he felt assured of his escape. Still grim keeper of the world's movables. Death, a he durst not turn his eye towards his boy-victim in shepherd, avenged the wrongs of stolen mutton : the dock. Conscience was at the felon's heart; Death stood behind every counter, protector of and seared, withered as it was, it felt the sudden chapman's stock; Death was the day and night horror of remorse. His features grew pale, then guard of the highway traveller against the high-dark; were for a moment convulsed; then inway thief; Death watched ox and ass; the goose stantly-daring no look at St. Giles-he disapon the common, the hen on the roost. Even at the peared from the dock. The boy stared about him altar, Death took his cautious stand, that Hymen with a foolish gaze, and then began to sob. might not be scoffed, defrauded by wicked biga- There was no terror-no anguish in his face. It mist. De minimis curabat Mors. Turn where he was the grief of a boy doomed to a whipping, not would, the rogues' path was dug with graves. the gibbet; and it was such sorrow—such seeming Nevertheless, the world grew no better ; made no childish ignorance of the impending horror—that visible return to that happy state, ere hemp was to those who looked upon him made his condition made a sovereign remedy for wrong. And so by more terrible. And then again it seemed impossidegrees Death lost somewhat of his reputation with ble that the sentence, so sonorously uttered, should the members of the world; and by degrees many be carried out. Could it be that such an array of things were taken out of his charge. It was found judges—such wisdom, such learning, such grave that-sheep were stolen-tradesmen's goods listed and reverend experience-should be opposed to a -pockets picked-hen-roosts forced—and maids miserable child, of no more self-accountability than wickedly married by men already bound-it was a dog ? Appalling odds! Could it be thought that seen that these abominations continued and in the scene was a frightful reality of daily, breathing creased, aye, in the very face of the great ghastly life? Was it not a grim farce—a hideous, foolish bugbear Death, and so his watch and ward were mockery? Could the wise hearts of men— fathers of made a lighter task; he was gradually relieved of well-taught, well-tended, happy children-doom many of his social duties; the world, to the aston- that child to death? That miserable item of human ishment of some folks, still spinning on its axis, ignorance—that awful reproach to those who made though the life of immortal man was not, as in the laws to protect property, but left the outcast poor good old times, offered to stolen colt, to the king's a heedless prey to their own unbridled instincts ? gracious face unlawfully stamped in counterfeit Nevertheless, ihe law would hang St. Giles; and metal, to a hundred other sins all made mortal by grave, respectable, church-going men, in the very the wisdom of untaught humanity. Truly, justice, cosiness of their ignorance, would clasp their hands, turning back the leaves of the jail calendar, might and raise their eyes, and pity and wonder at the sit awhile in sackcloth and ashes, penitent for past wickedness of the new generation ! transgressions—past wrongs committed in her A turnkey in the dock took St. Giles by the moral blindness ! The sword of justice ! An awful hand, and in a moment the boy had disappeared. weapon truly: a weapon, working out the will Good God!” cried a voice, convulsed with grief. of highest Providence: a solemn interest which “ Silence in the court !” exclaimed the crier; and man solemnly acknowledges. This has been, and immediately another wretch took his place at the may be. Yet, thinking of the world's mistakes ; bar, and the terrible course of law continued. It of the cruel blunders worked hy law on man, the was Capstick, whose exclamation had called down sword of justice-of so-called Christian justice the official rebuke; it was really Capstick, although robed and ermined—may sometimes seem to the even the wife of his bosom might have paused, ere eye of grieved humanity as terrible as the blood- she acknowledged him; so suddenly and frightdripping tomahawk of the wild, revengeful savage. fully had the brief business of the trial wrought a The sword of justice ! May not the time come— change in him. His flesh seemed jaundiced, and it will come, aš surely as the sun of far-off years his black eyes, violently dilated, rolled restlessly —when justice shall lay down her sword ?—when, about. His face appeared of a sudden sharpened with better wisdom, she shall vindicate her awful like the face of a sick man ; and his arm shook, mission to mankind, yet shed no drop of blood ! palsied, as with his nails he grasped the arm of
Let us return to St. Giles; to the boy in his Bright Jem. “Let us go,” said Jem, chokingly, fifteenth year, spawned upon the world and reared " we can do no good here;" and Capstick, staring by daily wrong and ignorance, a morsel for the stupidly about him, suffered himself io be led from hangman. Now, a condemned thief, palsied and the court. In a few moments they stood in the aghast with terror, upon the very threshold of the Old Bailey. It was a lovely spring night. The world; to be flung iherefrom, an offering to the breath of May, even in the Old Bailey, came sweet majesty of offended law. Grim majesty-ghastly and odorous-carrying freshness to the heart and Moloch! Stately wickedness, with robes dyed in brain. The moon shone with brightest, purest the blood of sinning ignorance ! A majesty, that lustre; all the stars of heaven seemed visible; all the principle of all evil may too often smile upon looking down in their bright tenderness, as though as its working genius here on earth. A majesty they looked upon a kindred sphere of purity and as cold and pulseless as the idol whose wooden light, and loved it. Capstick gazed at the magnostrils know not the sacrifices its darkened wor- nificence, and the tears thick and fast fell from him.
Then in a subdued, a comforting voice, he said - Bright Jem, used to the muffin-maker's humor, “ No, Jem, no; it's a wickedness to think it; made no further answer to this self-reproach ; there's a God in heaven, and they can't do it.” but again urged the necessity of consulting Tan
“ Had n't we better see Tangle, the lawyer?" gle. “It can't be done to-night-but we'll at asked Jem. “He has n't done much, to be sure ; him the first thing to-morrow,” said Capstick. still he may yet do something. I did n't see him “ To-morrow's Sunday,” said Jem. nowhere in the court-saw nobody but his clerk.” " What of that?" asked Capstick. • People
“ Yes, we'll see him—we'll see him," said come into the world on Sundays, so it can't be Capstick. “He's a scoundrel ; but then he's unlawful to help to save 'em from going-look fitter for the world. For the truth is, Jem, we're there, Jem,” and Capstick pointed to a carriage all scoundrels." Jem made no answer to this rolling rapidly past. charitable creed. “All scoundrels; and I'm “ 'That's the Marquess'-come from the trial. about the poorest, meanest, shabbiest villain of the There 's young St. James in it; well, he's going lot. And yet you 'll see how I shall carry it off. to better comfort than a stone cell. Howsomever, They 'll hang this wretched boy-oh, never doubt he's a fine fellow-a kind good heart is in that it, Jem! they 're bad enough for anything—they 'll little chap, I'm sure of it. How nicely he give háng him. And I shall still go on sleek and smooth his evidence, did n't he? And how kindly he in the world ; making muffins and laying by the seemed to look at St. Giles in the dock; as much pennies ; paying rent and taxes; owing no man a as to say, ' Poor fellow, I wish I could get you shilling, and so easy and pleasantly earning a good out o' that! He'll make a true man, that boy name, and being mightily trumped up for doing it. will,” said Jem; and then he mournfully added, I shall go on being called a respectable man; and " and so would poor St. Giles. Ha! if when I shall grin and smile at the lie, and show a satin Susan brought him home out o'the snow, if he and cheek to the world, as if the lie was true as gospel young St. James had been made to change berths, truth. And then I shall die and be buried with eh? There'd have been a different account of feathers ; and Mrs. Capstick will put a stone over both of 'em I should think. And yet you see me—I know her pride, Jem; I know she 'll do it how the poor's treated ; just as if they came into -a stone with a bouncing fam upon it; all lies— the world with wickedness upon 'em; a kind lies to the last. Oh, Jem,” cried Capstick, groan- of human natur vermin—things born to do all ingly, “if the devil ever takes churchyard walks, sorts of mischief, and then to be hung up for how he must chuckle and rub his brimstone hands, doing it.” when he reads some of the tombstones! Eh? How “We'll go to Tangle to-morrow-early tohe must hold his sides at the loving husbands,? morrow,” said Capstick; who, buried in his com
affectionate fathers,' ' faithful friends, and punctious grief, had given no ear to the reflections • pious Christians,' that he sees advertised there! of Jem. “Good night ; early to-morrow.” And For he knows better, Jem; eh? He knows bet- the muffin-maker suddenly broke from his companter,” cried the muffin-maker with increasing bit-ion, and strided home-a miserable home to him,
whose acute sensibility reproached him as unwor“ Well,” said Jem, “ I can't say; who can? thy of the household comforts about him. He But I should hope the devil knew nothing at all looked upon the part he had taken with intense about the matter. But howsomever, be that as it remorse. The would-be misanthrope loaihed himmay, he has nothing to do with the business that's self for what he deemed his selfishness of heartbrought us out to-night.”
his cruelty towards wretchedness and ignorance. “ I wish he had n't, Jem, I wish he had n’t,"' Within a few steps of his door, he paused to call cried Capstick with stifled emotion. “ But here, up— with all the power he had-a look of serenwalking as we are, down this blessed Fleet-street- iiy, of decent composure. Somehow, he felt oh lord ! does n't it seemn strange after what we've uneasy at the thoughts of meeting his wife. At just left to see the sight about us !-walking here, length he prepared himself, and with a tolerably do you think the devil is n't pointing his finger at successful face of tranquillity, crossed his threshold. me, and saying with a grin to one of his imps, He exchanged but one look with his wife ; it was • There goes the respectable muffin-maker thai's enough: it was plain she knew the fate of St. sold a boy's blood for ten pounds.'”
Giles. How should it be otherwise? A score of “How can you talk in that way?” said Jem, neighbors, customers, had thronged the shop with "the devil's the father of lies, and only keeps up the mortal intelligence; and some ventured to his character if he says it."
hope that Mr. Capstick would n't sleep the worse “ Not a bit ; it's the devil that speaks truth of for his day's work—others begged to ask if the our lies ; that turns us inside out, and shames muffin-maker thought the hanging of a poor child sanctified faces with the black hearts that have would bring a blessing on him—and some hinted been under 'em. I say I have sold the boy-put an opinion that those who were so sharp after evilthe rope about his neck. And for what? for ten doers had commonly not the cleanest consciences pounds. What a fine fellow I thought myself themselves. These interrogatives and innuendos when I stirred in the matter! What a lump of had to be severally answered and warded by the virtue—what a wonderful bit of public spirit I muffin-maker's wise, who, to give her due credit, thought I was, when, day after day, I neglected was not slow at any kind of reply, and was truly my muffins and the partner of my hearthstone, to a very respectable mistress " of fence.” Nevergo thief-catching. And I believed I was doing a theless, the exercise would heat a temper never fine thing—and so, you know I did, I crowed and prone to coldness, and in the present instance cackled about the ends of justice. All a sham— raised to boiling heat, by what she deemed the all a brave flashy cloak to hide a rascal dirtiness. malice of her neighbors. And yet, it would have It was the thoughts of the ten guineas, Jem, the made Capstick’s conjugal heart glad again, had he ten guineas, that called all the poison out of my heard how eloquently, how magnificently his acts heart and has made me hang a wretched, untaught were defended by his wife: for Mrs. Capstick beggar-boy. Yes, I'm a pretty respectable scoun- most volubly and vehemently begged to assure drel—a fine public-spirited miscreant, I am.” her neighbors, " that there was not a man in the
parish fit to wipe her husband's shoes "_" that he nine o'clock, when the muffin-maker knocked at was only wrong in being too honest”—" that a bet- the lawyer's door! It was quite impossible that ter soul or kinder-hearted creature never walked”- Mr. Tangle should be seen. " But the business," and that, in short, in the depths of her charity, she cried Capstick to the man-servant-a hybrid be* only wished that those who spoke a word tween a groom and a footman—" the business is against him had half such a husband: the neigh- upon life and death.” borhood would be all the quieter for it, that's “Bless you," said the man, " that makes no what she knew, if they had.” All this did honor difference whatever. We deal so much in life to Mr. Capstick, and doubtless would have solaced and death, that we think nothing of it. It's like the wounded bosom of her lord, could he only plums to a grocer, you know. Mr. Tangle never have known it; but Mrs. Capstick had too much can be seen of a Sunday before half-past ten ; a humility to vaunt her own virtues, therefore she quarter to eleven he goes, of course, to church. The breathed no word of the inatter to her well-de- Sabbath, he always says, should be a day of rest.” fended husband. Not that, the shop being closed, And Tangle—it was his only self-indulgence-iland the wedded couple seated at the fireside, Mrs. lustrated this principle by lying late in bed every Capstick was silent; certainly not; for, whilst Sunday morning to read his papers. Neverthethe muffin-maker tried to solace himself with a less, with smoothly shaven face, and with an all pipe, his wife thus declared herself :
unworldly look, he was, ere the church-bell ceased, " Well, Mr. Capstick, now I hope you 're sat- enshrined in the family pew. There was he with his isfied? I hope you've made a nice day's work of wife, decorously garnished with half-a-dozen chilit! A pretiy name you 've got in the parish! dren, sons and daughters, patterns of Sabbath piety; There 'll be no living here--I'll not live here, I of seventh-day Christianity.
“ After six days? can tell you. All the world will point at you, hard work, what a comfort it was,” he would
• There goes the man that hanged that say, “ to enjoy church of a Sunday !” And wretched little child !'”
Tangle, after his fashion, did enjoy it : he enjoyed Capstick suddenly took the pipe from his mouth, the respectability which church-going threw about and stared at his wife. It was strange : he had him; he enjoyed his worldly ease and superiority, himself said something of the kind to Bright Jem. as manifested in his own cosily furnished pew. He then renewed his smoking, speaking no sylla- Looking upon the pauper worshippers on the ble in answer to his spouse; and yet eloquently benches, and then contemplating the comforts of replying to her philippics by pooh-pooh-poohing his own nook, he felt very proud of his Christianity. the smoke from him, now in short, hasty, irascible And in this way did Mr. Tangle attend church. puffs, and now in a heavy volume of vapor. There it was a decent form due to society, and especially was a majesty in his manner that seemed quietly to himself. He went to church as he went to to defy the assaults of his better moiety. There his office—as a matter of business ; though he seemed, too, to be no getting at him for the clouds would have been mightily shocked had such a in which he industriously involved himself. motive been attributed to him.
“ And I should like to know what your satis- "I'll come at half-past ten,” said Capstick, faction will be for what you've done. Why, " for I must see him." The servant looked stolidly you 'll never have another happy moment ; you at the muffin-maker, and, without a word, closed can't have! That poor child will always be be- the door. “He can then tell us,” said Capstick fore your eyes. And then what a beautiful to Jem, “ when he can see us in the afternoon. business you 'll lose : for nobody will deal with And now, Jem, we can only stroll about till the you.
Ha! nice airs the Gibbses will give thein- time comes. And so they walked on silently; selves, now." (The Gibbses, be it known, were for both felt oppressed with the belief that their new-come muffin-makers, struggling in hopeless errand to the lawyer would be fruitless ; yet both rivalry with the muffins of Capstick.). “Every- were determined to try every means, however body will go to them: I'm sure I don't think hopeless. They walked, and sauntered, and the 't will be any use our opening the shop on Mon-church-bells rang out, summoning Christian congreday. And all about ten guineas! Ha, they 'll be gations to common worship: “There 's something a dear ten guineas to you-better have lost 'em beautiful in the church-bells, don't you think so, ten times over. And so young a child-only Jem?'' asked Capstick, in a subdued ione. “ Beaufourteen! To hang him! Don't you think, Mr. tiful and hopeful!—they talk to high and low, rich Capstick, his ghost will follow you?”
and poor in the same voice ; there's a sound in Capstick made no answer ; but his eye, turned / 'em that should scare pride, and envy, and meanominously upon his wife, began to glow like a ness of all sorts from the heart of man ; that should coal, and he puffed at the smoke like a man labor- make him look upon the world with kind, forgiving with himself. Beautiful philosophy! Full ing eyes; that should make the earth itself seem soon the muffin-maker's eye shone with its old to him, at least for a time, a holy place. Yes, tranquil light, and again he smoked calmly-des- Jem; there's a whole sermon in the very sound of perately calmly. Still Mrs. Capstick continued the church bells, if we have only the ears to rightly the punishment of her tongue ; but Capstick had understand it. There's a preacher in every belfry, conquered himself, and still replied not. At length Jem, that cries · Poor, weary, struggling, fightin the very heat and fullest pitch of her com- ing creatures-poor human things! take rest, be plaint, Capstick rose, and softly laying down his quiet. Forget your vanities, your follies ; your pipe said “Mary Anne, I'm going to bed.” week-day craft, your heart-burnings! And you, Poor Capstick! He came home with his heart ye human vessels, gilt and painted; believe the bleeding; and a little tenderness, a little conjugal iron tongue that tells ye, that for all your gilding, sympathy, would have been a value to him ; but all your colorz, ye are of the same Adam's earth as people say of greater matters—it was not to be. with the beggar at your gates. Come away, come,
Capstick rose early; and, speedily joined by cries the church-bell, and learn to be humble; Bright Jem, both took their way to Mr. Tangle's learning that, however daubed and stained, and private mansion, Red Lion Square. It was scarcely stuck about with jewels, you are but grave clay!