[After this speech of DUNSFORD's there was an Ellesmere. Pray don't limit yourself, my awkward pause for some moments. Most dear sir. Do not be bound by mean conof the company looked at the dog, who siderations of space. Extend your noble senlooked at his master with a cross, inquiring timents to the whole human race. look, and made a short growl, as if he were Milverton. I assure you I am quite in asking whether it was his duty to bite any-earnest in what I have just said. I am astounded at the audacity with which civilians comment upon the short-comings of the military departments.

Ellesmere. This really won't do, Milverton, if you are in earnest.

body.] Milverton. My dear Dunsford, of course we are all duly impressed with the horrors and sufferings in the Crimea; but after just coming through the Custom House, Englishmen must be allowed to grumble a little, or Dunsford. O, pray hear him. He is they would die; and my friend Mr. Midhurst going to prove to us how little the law needs is not a person who will expire from any sup-reform. Why, there was a poor widow in pression of his disgust with the human race my parish who was left two hundred pounds in general, and with the gendarmerie in par- by her father; five years were spent in lititicular. Why, even the two young ladies gation over a trumpery point which a sensible here, Blanche and Mildred, became positively man would have settled in five minutes; her pugnacious over some bonnet-box which was share dwindled down to thirty-eight pounds being rudely treated. ten; the lawyer's bill is fifty-seven pounds fifteen shillings and fourpence; and the poor woman, without waiting for my advice, has fled the country.

Ellesmere. The fact is, we are all desperately cross, and we shall not be happy again until we have had some sound political conversation, and abused everybody connected with the conduct of everything connected with the war. Mr. Dunsford will perhaps allow us to do that. It will be consistent with all the first principles of virtue, and be as allowable as listening to an oratorio. Young ladies, will you take this seat?

Ellesmere. How a parson always believes that the events in his parish explain all human life to him. I dare say that this point, which you say a sensible man could have settled in five minutes, was a very great difficulty, and that her case will form a precedent.

Mildred. I don't think that circumstance, Mr. Ellesmere, will be a great comfort to the poor woman.

Ellesmere.

Milverton. Dunsford may allow you, Ellesmere, but I shall not. I am not sure that I do not agree with that eccentric indiThank you, Miss Mildred, for vidual, Horace Walker, who stoutly, with your assistance. I suppose you imagine that his back to the fire at our club, maintains because you have a fine-sounding Anglo-Saxon the army to be, and to have been, the best-name, we are all to go back to the barbarous managed thing in England.

Dunsford. Good Heavens, Milverton ! Ellesmere. Don't swear, my reverend friend; he means to make an exception for the Church. The good discipline in that body is well known and thoroughly appreciated. If you, for instance, were to set up a nice little heresy in that pleasant parish of yours, Twaddleton-cum-Mud, it would only take your bishop five years and three thousand pounds to eject you; and if you entrust me with your defence, I think I could make the proceedings a little more costly than they have hitherto been in such cases.

Midhurst. I quite agree with Mr. Milverton; at least I mean to say, if it is no offence to this good gentleman [bowing to DUNSFORD], that one thing is not worse than another in this country - I mean in England.

simplicity of Anglo-Saxon times.

Milverton. You may jest, Ellesmere, but any one such case as Dunsford has just related ought not to be possible. I think you will hesitate before you attack the administration of the army again. But in sober seriousness, my dear friends

Ellesmere. Now don't preach. Address yourself to Fixer-that is the name of this pretty dog, is it not?—and perhaps to that gentleman [pointing to MR. MIDHURST].

Milverton. Well, I shall be quite content with my audience if it consist of Fixer only. Well, then, Fixer, you must know that these men and women, very superior creatures to you, come from a great town, where they live, or at least the poorer dogs amongst them, very much worse than you, in dirty kennels, drinking foul water, inhaling impure air, eat

ing adulterated food, and yet paying large sively concerned -in which we forbid soltaxes. Here the dog, thinking perhaps that diers to meddle: namely, the election of his master was blaming him, set up a long mel-members of Parliament? Here, no doubt, ancholy howl.] This won't do, it teases the the British civilian shines; and after he poor animal, so I must address the bipeds, has elected his members of Parliament, is after all; and they see at once, without more generally so well 'pleased with them. talking on my part, what I mean to say in this .department of affairs.

Ellesmere. O yes, we all know that you can talk for hours upon sanitary matters, and that all you say is dreadfully, and, if I may use the expression, beastly true; but really that does not settle the question.

-

Midhurst. Their brevity of talk, their despatch of business, the labor and the study which it is evident they give to great questions, - in short, their general manners, bearing, and appearance, not to speak of their faultless English, make them a credit to the men who send them there. Milverton. Let us turn to something else, And now, if I have any vote in this disthen. A new locomotive power was invented cussion, I beg to leave it in the hands of my some years ago; the application of that power friend, Mr. Milverton, while I go and attend to the purposes of life was entrusted to civil- to the most important thing in life, the ians. The lawyers had something to do with ordering of dinner. [Exit MR. MIDHURST.] it, I believe. Now, I ask you, sir, upon your oath [here MILVERTON tucked an imaginary gown behind him, and addressed himself in a forensic style to ELLESMERE], is there any one branch of human affairs in which human folly has been more conspicuous, continuous, and pervading than in the formation and in the working of English railways?

gauge

Ellesmere. I declare to goodness, Milverton, if you go about with that man and that dog, I shall not proceed further with you than Tournay.

Blanche. Mr. Ellesmere is jealous of any one who says more disagreeable things than himself.

2

Ellesmere. 0, 0, the soft and simpering Midhurst. Millions spent in law, crook-Blanche imitating the stern, wise, and wicked ed lines break of clumsy carriages Mildred. My fair friends! may your bon-the poor penned like cattle-shameful nets be crushed to atoms by douaniers; may competition-stupid stations — immense ex- the fashions that you bring back to astonish pensea starved staffthe public every- your village be pronounced old fashions; where fleeced, injured, and bullied,- O, it is when your luggage is in the hold of the vesa triumphant system sel, coming back, may salt water trickle into a silk dress; may

-

Ellesmere. Really, this gentleman seems quite happy. What would he do in a wellregulated world? Pray go on, sir.

Midhurst (smiling pleasantly, and bowing). No, sir, I leave the discussion in better hands. Milverton. Ellesmere so soon becomes tired of any one subject, his impatience is so inordinate, that I must turn to other departments of civil life. Let us discuss the making of Acts of Parliament, in which grave matter, no doubt, sound sense and skilful organization are to be seen.

Milverton. Why, this is a sort of Ernulphus' curse. It is too serious, my dear fellow.

Boy. It would be such a lark, though! Milverton. There you see the nature of boys. But how we have wandered from our subject! You must own, Dunsford and Ellesmere, that I have indicated, if not made out, a train of argument which would show that we have not fewer complaints to make of the management of civil than of military affairs, Ellesmere. Now don't be so provoking, and that it becomes us civilians to talk with Milverton. Truth, which (not being an great modesty of the errors, omissions, and author or a clergyman) I am bound at once oversights in military matters. Think of the to acknowledge, compels me to confess that government of London: behold its public in this department of human affairs English buildings and its statues; inhale the fresh civilians do not distinguish themselves. No breezes of the river; look at the water we doubt if military men were concerned it have to drink, after it has stood a day or two; would be still worse. come with me some day, and behold the glad Milverton. Shall I proceed to consider population of Bethnal Green. [ELLESMERE another matter in which civilians are exclu-walked up and down, whistling, for a turn or

P

two, and then said he must go and look at his | about discretion.

Swiftness and sternness

room. Suddenly, however, turning upon his and resolute purpose may be of the essence heel, he resumed the conversation.]

your man.

а

And

of humanity. Not only stronger but earlier
resolution was needed. Sir Hugh Rose's
ready appreciation of the danger should not
have been disavowed. There ought to be
no such thing as drifting into war."
when you do apply your forces, they should
not slide down a gently-inclined plane, but
should come forth as if they were impelled
from a Lancaster gun. However, some of
our errors in this respect sprang from our
deep-seated reluctance to go to war at all.

I am very far from having the presumption to suppose that the few men amongst us, who from the first have declared that they did not see sufficient cause for the war, are to be scouted, and their opinions treated with contempt. I can only say that those opinions fail to have any weight with me. At the same time, I feel deeply anxious that we should, wherever and whenever we can, limit the question at issue, so that we do not weaken or obscure the basis on which alone peace can be made lasting. These matters are not for us private persons to decide. We have not the requisite data before us. They

All

Ellesmere. I suppose, Milverton, we may number you as one of the Peace party. Milverton. O! yes, that you may. I am an Englishman, and we are all of the Peace party. Of war, as war, none of us, that I know of, are especially fond. But if you mean that I am one of those who do not intend to go thoroughly through with anything I have once undertaken, you do not know I will tell you in few words what I think about this war, for that is what you are endeavoring to find out. A more righteous war on our side, I believe was never undertaken. No war, I believe, was ever more reluctantly, more sadly, less revengefully, commenced. You jeer at me as philosopher, by which you mean a man who is curious and careful about his opinions. Such men are apt to differ with the views of the majority of those about them; and this liability to differ is the surest source of suffering for them. In this case, however, I am, to my signal delight, in thorough accordance with the great masses of my fellow-countrymen. I am completely a commonplace are questions that require the gravest, nicest, Englishman. I am convinced that we have and most forbearing statesmanship. acted most unselfishly in the whole affair. that we private persons can do at present is Brushing away all subtleties, I lay my finger to inculcate the spirit in which proposals for upon that most iniquitous act, the occupation peace should be regarded. of the Principalities, and I say that upon Then, if you talk to me about the manthe authors of that act lie the guilt and agement of the war in minor matters, I will bloodshed of the war. You will hear noth- agree with you that it was bad, bitterly bad ing from me but what plain, unpretending in many instances. But be careful whom Mr. Smith, or Mr. Jones, in the omnibus, you blame; throw your blame very wide. would tell you. We (I mean Smith, Jones, Let each one of us take his fair share. and Milverton) would almost have Remember how fond we all were of injudicious down on our knees to avoid this war. I can saving. Consider how difficult it has been say for myself that I lived in an agony of for years and years to get the least question apprehension while the negotiations were of official reform wisely considered; and do pending, and mourned unutterably over the not throw upon some few unfortunate men evils which I saw to be imminent. Once, the condemnation which justly rests upon however, embarked in such a contest, my the whole constituencies of Great Britain,only thought was, how most speedily and ay, and upon the most intellectual men in most forcibly our just ends might be accom- the country, who must have their share of plished. If you tell me we failed as states- blame too. men, and as men of the world, in not bringing sufficient force, sufficiently early, to bear upon the enemy, I agree with you. Some of you now present may recollect how I deplored, on or near the day of his departure, the fetters which I saw were being fashioned for Sir Charles Napier by our foolish talk

gone

If there is any one thing in which I suppose we must confess ourselves to have been wanting, it is boldness, — especially as regards the operations of our fleets. Mark you, I

should be very sorry to pronounce upon this subject without further evidence, but I conjecture that the accusation has some justice

in it. My own temperament and nature are- Pericles, Xenophon, Themistocles, Scipio, so given to boldness, not to say rashness, and Marius, Cæsar, Hannibal, Alexander, Narses; Charlemagne, Alfred, my studies, which of late years have been the great moderns entirely with the doings of the great men at the Plantagenets, Sixtus the Fifth, Ximenes, the end of the fifteenth century and the Richelieu (I take the names just as they beginning of the sixteenth, may induce m come into my head), Cortes, Henry the to overrate boldness. A man who has passed Fourth, Frederick of Prussia, Clive, Chatham, a great part of the last years, as I have, in Cromwell; is not boldness the very breath of Would not studying the despatches of Cortes, is not likely their life in such characters ? to be enamored of timid counsels. the newspapers, and the clubs, and society in general have had many unpleasant comments And would they to make upon these men ? have been quelled by such comments, if they had the greatness in them which I believe they had?

But then this error, as I conceive it to be, this want of boldness, is quite as visible in civil as in military affairs. Carry to a statesman of the present day any good plan providing a remedy for some great abuse, for which he is bound to find a remedy. He will listen to you patiently, then take a sly glance over his shoulder at the clock (which glance, however, the deputation are meant to perceive). He will say something to this effect:"You are quite right; the abuse is very great. I am sure, I grieve over it. Your plan, too, is excellent. But there are many objections to it. I doubt whether we can be sure of its succeeding. I doubt whether, in the present state of public affairs, &c., &c., I doubt whether, in the present temper of the House of Commons, &c., &c. But, gentlemen (another glance at the clock, not so furtive), if you would have the goodness to put your views in writing, they shall meet with all due consideration at the hands of Her Majesty's Government." Bows are then interchanged. "How do you do, Lord A?" (this to the head of the deputation). "I hope Lady Ais going on well. I am so glad to hear it's a boy. Good morning, gentlemen." The deputation retires.

year

The minister knows the thing ought to be done. But year after his want of boldness, his anxiety to see his way, as he calls it, his desire to be safe, prevents the thing being undertaken. And so we have safe everywhere, — safe safe

men

admirals

Ellesmere. You have banged us about with such a lot of great names, that I hardly One thing I am certain know where I am. of, that some of your great characters would, occasionally, have figured in the police reports as well as in the leading articles. But all of them, in one way or other, would have afNot forded plenty of occasion for comments. less than seven of the most scurrilous amongst religious papers would have lived upon the doings of Pericles.

Milverton. But he would have gone on doing. I tell you that I see this doating upon assured success, this love of unimpeachability, even in our charities. They too must be perfectly prudent, they too must be exactly wise, they too must succeed. How different to the noble words, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days."

I have made a long tirade, but it all may We are afraid be expressed in few words. of doing something, for fear it might be wrong, for fear it might be blamed, not seeing what evil there may be in doing nothing.

But what I have just said does not apply to the management of the present war particularly, but to the conduct of all of us, to the present generation, to the present century. It results, too, from many good things: from a strong desire to have a fair character; from a great wish to do nothing wrong; from an anxiety to go through life blamelessly. Of course we cannot always act with vigor when we are weighing nice responsibilities.

bishops. Let me pause for a moment. I have not quite worked out what I mean to say. It is the desire of being unimpeachable that deadens men's energies, from the highest to the lowest. We hate to be commented upon by newspapers. Any man, however, who cared deeply about his work, would be beyond and Finally (for I see I am making a long above newspapers. Call back the great men speech), though I must admit we have plenty - David, Solomon, St. Paul, of cause for self-condemnation, we have, I St. Augustin, St. Cyprian; the great ancients think, at the same time, every reason to be

of former

ages,

hopeful for this country. The good and I am delighted, my dear Milverton, to find sound spirit which has been shown through- you so rational. It is far beyond my hopes out all classes, the anxiety to do right which and expectations. [Here ELLESMERE began to has been manifested, the calm, I might almost dance again, and the girls to laugh immodersay the cruel, way in which we have exposed ately.] and analyzed our own faults and shortcom- Dunsford. For goodness' sake, Ellesmere, ings, the personal bravery which the British behave yourself. Here are some of our have shown, the absence of all malignant excellent allies coming to the windows. feeling towards our enemy, the heartiness of [ELLESMERE suddenly subsided into propriety of our feeling towards our brave allies, are all demeanor.] to me sources of the highest confidence. Ellesmere. Yes, yes! I must behave Those who pretend to see, and who cer- myself. We must do everything here to tainly wish to see, symptoms of decadence in make ourselves agreeable, and not ridiculous. this great people, may fancy that they per- Henceforward you shall see in me the grave ceive such things. For my own part, I never deportment of a man who has once been Her felt more happy and more proud to be an Majesty's Solicitor-General. Now this alliEnglishman than I have in the years eighteen ance, which has made us find out that hundred and fifty-four and eighteen hundred Englishmen and Frenchmen, need not be and fifty-five. [Here ELLESMERE began to dance what I call his war-dance, which consists in "pirouetting," I believe they call it, but which chiefly seems to be executed by one leg, and is to my mind more like a succession of averted tumbles than dancing.]

hereditary enemies, is an indescribable benefit, —is equal, in my opinion, to the discovery of Australia. O! I will be so decorous all the time that we are in France. They shall see what a solid fellow (solid is a favorite word of theirs) an English lawyer can be. Ellesmere. Hurrah! hurrah! a great [Here ELLESMERE walked away to his rooms event! Let the town-crier perform a fantasia with a dignity and gravity which well became on the bell, and call all good people to wit- his handsome presence. Once he turned round ness that here is a philosopher who for once to wink at us; but his march was for the most in his life, and on one subject, does not pre- part very stately. And so the conversation tend to be wiser than commonplace people. | ended.]

the beflounced, bemantled, and bebonneted beauty
in all the colors of the rainbow spread out before
him, full fig. to all intents and purposes.
R. W. HACKWOOD.

In reply as to this slang expression, I venture to suggest that it may allude to the primitive dress of our first parents, and their concealment of themselves because they were naked: fig standing for "fig-leaf; " and "full fig" meaning such a dress as enables you to exhibit yourself without shame.

FULL FIG.—I am afraid your correspondent, | " love of a mantle;" and that, after passing who seeks an explanation of this term, must be through a few more stages, "No. 10, full an old bachelor, or long ago he must have ob-fig. (ure)" would display to his admiring gaze served his "better half" periodically poring a perfect realization of the term as he uses it, in over some ladies' magazine, and devouring the fashions set forth in all their gorgeous array on the curious, smiling, distressingly pinkfaced and kiss-me-quick representations of the fair sex therein depicted; at which bewitching figures, if he had had the curiosity and courage to take a nearer glance, he would most probably have found that the full-blown countenance protruding from an apparatus like a foreshortened strawberry-pottle bedecked with ribbons and flowers, in present specimens, or enshrined in a straw coal-scuttle in times gone by, was labelled The Italians have an expression, “in fiocchi," "No. 1, Head Dress," or "Bonnet à la Some- corresponding exactly with " in full fig.' body or Something.' Continuing his exam- substantive fiocci signifies "a tassel; ination he would have found "No. 2, Demi-abito coi fiocchi" is "a coat with tassels or tags fig.(ure)" to be the " portrait of a lady" with on it:" and hence, to be in fiocchi means "to her neck twisted in some impossible manner, be in full dress." Can fig be a corruption of so as to exhibit the beauties of the back part of this? the before-figured pottle, and the front of some

The

"" un

STYLITES.

- Notes and Queries.