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 GRANT AND CO., PRINTERS, 1 
 
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 S 
 
THOMAS WALKER THE 
 
 trom atlorirat inthe possesstan oF his Grand-dauphier Mi Liason Wilkins op 
 
 fainted by Lomnty.Lngraved by Soseph Broww. 
 
 LONDON: PUBLISHED BY GRANT &C° 
 
> 
 ie Sop BY 
 THOMAS WALKER, M.A. 
 . Me, a’, Trinity College, Cambridge ; 
 BARRISTER-AT-LAW, AND ONE OF THE PORICE MAGISTRATES OF THE METROPOLIS. 
 z ; 
 
 ro Ges ee yee ; 
 _“ I wish you all the success of the Spectator, Tatler, and the Guardian. What does not 
 society owe to the man who, after protecting her laws for eight hours a day, gives up the 
 
 residue of his time to the amelioration of politics and morals?"—Sydney Smith to Thomas 
 
 Wake ee 1835. tetas Sp 
 
 P+ al 
 
 — 
 
 T.ONDON : 
 GRANT @eeo .LURNMILE STREET, E.C. 
 
 1874. 
 
ay CONTENTS. 
 ea a 
 
 \ 
 
 ; “ 3 BOOK I—THOMAS WALKER THE ELDER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 : ae I.—The Liberal Boroughreeve 
 ee ,, ~~ IL.—A Marked Man 
 | Se See a III.—Jacobin Walker . 
 »» IV.—Trial for Conspiracy 
 5, WV.—The Reformers of 1794 
 0 », W1.—Correspondence with Wedgwood 
 », WII.—Correspondence with Fox 
 
 BOOK II.—THOMAS WALKER THE 
 YOUNGER. 
 
 Chap. I.—The Author of ‘‘ The Original” . 
 »  II.—Mr. Walker at Stretford 
 _ 4, III.—The Original « 
 
 BOOK II]—THE ORIGINAL. 
 
 Address to Labourers . 
 
 Address to the Reader . 
 
 Agriculture | 5 . 
 
 Albunean Lake, The 
 
 Anecdote of Dunning 
 
 Art of Attaining High Health, The ioe 230025 73 268, a 321, 
 _ Character the Best Security : : d vee 
 
 Country Houses 
 Courteous Forbearance . 
 
 Crossing the Alps Miaikomatically : 
 
 Derivations . 
 
 Dialogue on Pauperism 
 
 I 
 17 
 30 
 43 
 73 
 92 
 
 104 
 
 11g 
 134 
 
vi Contents. 
 
 Doctor Gregory’s Description of Health : ; ° ae 
 Eve of Battle, The . s . ‘ ; : : : 
 Execution, An . : : : ‘ : A one 
 Extract from Cowley ° : : 3 : a 
 Few Shillings Well Laid Out, A. : : ‘ «  N2O4G 
 Fortune-Telling ‘ ° : : 
 Frenchman’s Idea of an English bane A 
 
 Goldsmiths’ Hall — 
 
 Good Breeding - : . , , . way 
 Good Feeling . - ; ‘ : : ; . ‘ . 
 Government 
 
 Horrors of War . 
 
 Injury and Insult 
 
 Iscariotism : : - : ; ‘ A : ; P 
 Italy ; : : : ; pts 
 Letters from the Continent : ; x ‘ : - 349, 
 Life : : : ; f ‘ : ; ; , 7 
 
 Life of Numa , ; ; ‘ : ; : 
 Locke’s Opinion of the Gospel : : , ; . : 
 London in Times Past and Present . : : : . , 
 Marriage in Low Life 
 Mobs . 
 
 Mount Vesuvius 
 
 My Mother 
 
 Observance of the Sabbath : ; ithe 
 - Parochial Government ; ‘ , - 199, 222,244, 266, 
 Parochial Improvement . 
 Philosopher and the Merchant, The 
 Poor Laws in Ireland 
 
 Preliminary Address 
 
 Principles of Government 
 Punctuality : 
 
 Regulation of Charity 
 
 Remarks on the Life of Numa . ‘ : : : ‘ 
 Sayings . ; : : : : : 175, 262, 330, 
 Silver Threepences a Fourpences 
 
 Iwo Good Dishes . 
 
DEDICATORY PREFACE. 
 
 Ls Ee ee 
 
 In Mr. Walker’s “ Original’’ there are pages that 
 _ may be studied with advantage even now by 
 the politician and the social reformer. The 
 author was a shrewd observer; a courageous 
 thinker on such subjects as the Poor Laws, and 
 the condition of the agricultural labourer; and 
 a gentleman of fine taste. He was a very useful 
 London magistrate. As a man of the world his 
 opinion was valued highly by many of his eminent 
 contemporaries. He never gave himself the airs 
 of a man of fashion; yet his society was sought 
 by his social superiors. He was the intimate 
 friend of Sydney Smith; the highly valued cor- 
 respondent of Sir Robert Peel; the simple host 
 whose unassuming dinners recommended them to 
 the most refined and gifted by the perfection of 
 their simplicity. | | 
 But, what he was, and what his father was 
 
 before him, I have endeavoured to set forth 
 
Sicteent commnisiepaletiae cameane 
 
 7 in. the Deer snice ‘shania that pr 
 
 edition of “The Original”’—an editio eb 
 
 a8 hope, may find its way to the shelves 
 _ libraries. ae ere haga have bis. 
 
 af Manchester, the grand-daughter of the “Hl 
 _ - Thomas Walker, and the niece of the author 0} 
 i; “The Original.” | ee 
 
 ~~ d 
 
 cow. wil sat ‘ 
 ie To this econ iaten lady I therefore dedic cat | 
 these volumes, with the thanks and eck of | as 
 Her faithful servant, ; 
 BLANCHARD JERROLD. 
 ' * : 
 
 keform Club, May, 1874. be 
 
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 _KER THE ELDER. 
 
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ERRATA, 
 
 Page 2, line 15 from the top, for Szr David Gann, read Sir David 
 Gam. 
 
 Page 114, footnote. For eighty-fifth year, read eighty-seventh year. 
 
 Page 116, line 12, for then to the wife of his brother Richard, read 
 after her death in equal shares to the children of Thomas and 
 Richard Walker. 
 
BOOK I. 
 Boeeetnas WALKER, THE ELDER. 
 
 A OOT  Ee 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE LIBERAL BOROUGHREEVE., 
 
 Mr. THomas WALKER, merchant, was a conspicuous 
 gentleman in Manchester towards the close of the last 
 century. Of gentle blood, commanding appearance, gene- 
 rous instincts, and remarkable abilities, he became by 
 fortune and by natural gifts the leader whom the few 
 and disheartened Liberals of Lancashire wanted; when 
 Mr. Shaw’s Punch House, the Bull’s Head, the Crown 
 and Shuttle, Black Moor’s Head, York Minster, the White 
 Lion, Queen Anne—in short, nearly all the inns of Man- 
 chester—were given up to Church and King men; and 
 when every citizen who was bold enough to advocate reform 
 in Parliament and the removal of Dissenters’ disabilities 
 was the subject of coarse jests and rough treatment. In 
 those days’ manners were dissolute and boorish, and public 
 opinion was formed by the leading citizens in tavern 
 parlours over stiff and steaming brews of brandy. A man 
 of fastidious tastes, studious habits, and refined address 
 Vot..“T. B 
 
2 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 was at a disadvantage at first, opposed to such antagonists _ 
 as Mr. Shaw cultivated in his hostelry. Mr. Shaw himself 
 contrived to help the cause of King and Church by 
 shutting up his Punch House early—which, it is recorded, 
 made him popular with the ladies. But the fearful odds 
 at which the Liberals stood were a stimulant to the few 
 gallant gentlemen who fought the battle of civil and 
 religious liberty in Lancashire, for nearly half a century 
 before their cause triumphed completely in the passing of 
 the first Reform Bill. 
 
 The Walkers claimed descent from Sir William Hubert 
 ap Thomas, of Rayland Castle, county Monmouth; who, 
 in the reign of Henry the Fifth, was knighted for his valour 
 in the French wars. Sir William married Gladys, daughter 
 of the Sir David Gann who, according to Hume, was 
 mainly instrumental in deciding the fight of Agincourt. 
 The grandfather of the author of “The Original,” and 
 father of the patriot boroughreeve (born in 1716, and died 
 in 1786), removed from Bristol, where he had carried on 
 business as a merchant, to Manchester, before his eldest 
 son was born; and the only note we have of him is that 
 his wife was the first person who carried an umbrella in 
 Manchester, and that she was mobbed for her pains. This 
 was too bad, since if there be a place where the carriage 
 of an umbrella is excusable under any circumstances, it 
 
 is assuredly the capital of Cotton. The son who was 
 
The Liberal Loroughreeve. 3 
 
 destined to take a foremost place among the worthies 
 of Lancashire, and whose name deserves to be known 
 throughout the Empire as a patriot of the old brave type, 
 who gave all his lusty years, his peace, and fortune to the 
 cause he believed to be a holy one, was born on the 3rd 
 of April, 1749. 
 
 In the year 1784, when Mr. Thomas Walker first took a 
 prominent part in the public Liberal affairs of Manchester, 
 he was, as a merchant, a leading figure in the town; a 
 gentleman prosperous and of high position, with Barlow 
 Hall for his summer residence, and a house in South 
 Parade, St. Mary’s, for the winter. Although only then in 
 his thirty-fifth year, the local position which he had won 
 was so great that Manchester at once pointed to him as 
 her representative and champion against Mr. Pitt’s odious 
 Fustian Tax. 
 
 One of the first projects of Mr. Pitt as Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer was to impose a duty—soon to be known as 
 the Fustian Tax—of one penny per yard upon all bleached 
 cotton manufactures. By the operation of this monstrous 
 Act the excise laws were introduced into the cotton trade, 
 and the immediate consequence, as felt in Manchester 
 and throughout the entire manufacturing districts of Lan- 
 cashire, was paralytic. The capital of the cotton trade 
 became profoundly and threateningly agitated. Fifteen 
 
 houses, representing 38,000 persons engaged in the trade, 
 
 B 2 
 
-. 
 
 A Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 petitioned against the tax; and the master dyers and 
 bleachers announced that “they were under the sad neces- : 
 sity of declining their present occupations until the next 
 session of Parliament.” | 
 
 Resolute action was soon determined upon. Two of the 
 principal merchants—viz., Mr. Thomas Walker and Mr. 
 Thomas Richardson—were deputed at the opening of the 
 next session to wait upon the Chancellor of the Exchequer 
 and lay the case before him. They appeared before Pitt, 
 backed by the whole body of cotton traders, and supported 
 by the powerful influence of the Duke of Bridgewater. 
 So overwhelming was the force brought to bear upon the 
 Minister, that he himself proposed the repeal of the tax he 
 had carelessly laid on a great trade; and his political 
 opponent, Fox, seconded the. motion. 
 
 Mr. Walker and Mr. Richardson were received back 
 in Manchester by a splendid procession of their fellow 
 townsmen on the 17th of May, 1785, and to each delegate 
 a rich presentation of plate was made. ‘This public service 
 commended Mr. Walker to the good will and confidence 
 of Lancashire and Lanarkshire, and its success was, I 
 apprehend, the brightest passage of his career. The tran- 
 quil happiness of the prosperous merchant and popular 
 citizen was not destined to be of long duration. | 
 
 In 1788 he presided at a great banquet held by many 
 
 of the notables of Manchester to celebrate the centenary 
 
Ot 
 
 the. Liberal Boroughreeve. 
 
 _of the glorious revolution of 1688. The ringing of bells 
 and military salutes fired in St. Anne’s Square had roused 
 the enthusiasm of the citizens, People sported orange 
 ribands. The ladies were invited to a ball and supper. 
 The politics of the Whig Churchman kept him in good 
 fellowship with his neighbours of his own degree. In 
 1790, still covered with the glory of having rescued his 
 townsmen from the grip of Pitt’s Fustian Tax, Mr. Walker 
 was appointed boroughreeve—an officer who has_ been 
 described as ‘‘a sort of mayor without a council.” In 
 those days Manchester was not a corporate town, and was 
 unrepresented in Peeianent ; and the 4a¢on of the borough- 
 reeve was the symbol of high honour and authority. 
 
 As boroughreeve the popular citizen was destined to 
 experiénce the first bitter fruits of public life on the Liberal 
 side in those days. It was his lot to be assailed by violent 
 and unscrupulous opponents among his fellow townsmen ; 
 and afterwards by a Government that fought the friends of 
 the Liberal cause with the foulest weapons. 
 
 The state of public opinion in Manchester when Mr. 
 Walker was its boroughreeve is graphically illustrated by a 
 long advertisement he was compelled to publish in the two 
 papers of the town, in explanation and justification of a 
 meeting which was held at the Exchange under his prest- 
 dency on the roth of April, 1791, “for the purpose of 
 
 considering the present alarming situation of affairs 
 
 bi 
 Heed 
 
 % 
 
=a 
 = 
 
 6 Thomas Walker the E Ider. 
 
 between this country and Russia.” The first resolution 
 declared that it was highly necessary for the people of Great 
 Britain to take into consideration the evils of an impending 
 war. But the second was that which gave umbrage to the 
 Tories: “That in the opinion of this meeting no nation 
 can be justified in engaging in war unless for reasons and 
 upon principles strictly defensive.” 
 
 The rest of the resolutions developed this theory. A 
 commercial country like Great Britain, whose taxes were 
 heavy and whose debt was enormous, ought to be particu- 
 larly cautious of engaging in any war, unless upon the most 
 urgent and evident necessity. It was not clear from theory 
 or experience that the pretext of maintaining the balance 
 of power in Europe was a sufficient reason for plunging the 
 inhabitants of this island into the manifold evils attendant 
 on war; and that all treaties of alliance which tended to 
 involve Great Britain in the quarrels and disputes of the 
 nations of the Continent were injurious to the interests of 
 the country. Although the power of declaring war was 
 vested in the Crown of Great Britain, yet, as the honour 
 of the nation was concerned in the justice of it, and as 
 the labour and industry of the people must be taxed in 
 support of it, they had a right to full and satisfactory 
 information of the grounds and reasons on which war was 
 at any time to be declared. It did not appear to the 
 
 meeting that any sufficient reason had yet been assigned 
 
The Liberal Boroughreeve. — 7 
 
 for involving England: in a war with Russia, and that it 
 was the duty of the people’s representatives in Parliament 
 to withhold their assent to any burthens being imposed on 
 the people till the justice and necessity of it should be fully 
 shown. ‘The resolutions to this effect were signed by the 
 boroughreeve, as chairman, and transmitted to the members 
 for the county of Lancaster, with the request that they 
 would vote in accordance with them in the House of 
 Commons. 
 
 So furiously were the boroughreeve and his supporters 
 assailed for their principles of peace, justice, and economy, 
 that it was deemed expedient to submit the resolutions to 
 eminent counsel for their opinion as to the legality of them, 
 and as to the liability persons would incur in publishing 
 them. Mr. Serjeant Adair gave his opinion. He could 
 perceive no illegal nor unconstitutional sentiments in them. 
 He concludes by saying: “ To enter into further reasoning 
 on this subject would be to write a dissertation on the 
 constitution of England, which we are mistaken in believing 
 to be the most free and happy in the world if these nghts 
 of the people can be called in question.” Mr. Lloyd and 
 Mr. Cooper, two professional gentlemen, were instructed 
 in support of Mr. Serjeant Adair; and they concurred 
 with the learned serjeant, giving their opinion at great 
 length. In one passage they observed: ‘ The resolutions 
 
 referred to us all tend to, and centre in that point which of 
 
* oo ee a. 
 
 y 
 8 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 Si ee 
 
 all de is the farthest from being the prerogative of the 
 Crown, and is most peculiarly the prerogative of the people, 
 viz., the imposition of taxes; and it would be strange 
 indeed if the Commons of England are not permitted to 
 advise their representatives upon that subject which of all 
 others it is the peculiar business of the House of Commons 
 to consider.” 
 
 But the boroughreeve was already a marked man. He 
 
 had identified himself openly with the cause of civil and 
 
 religious liberty. He had become the advocate of peace. 
 Many years afterwards his boys remembered that about this 
 time they were shunned at school, and that their school- 
 fellows shouted after them: ‘There. go Jacobin Walker's 
 sons!” 
 
 The Fustian Tax battle involved Mr. Walker in a vast 
 correspondence with eminent persons of the day. The 
 Duke of Bridgewater wrote to him on Christmas Day, 
 1784 :— 
 
 “I duly received the favour of yours, and am much 
 obliged for the kind expressions in them. On the receipt 
 of the letter I immediately apply’d to Mr. Pit (szc), who 
 continues in the same friendly disposition you left him, 
 and proposed that previous to the meeting of Parliament, 
 
 or as soon as it will be convenient for the committee, to 
 
 ' state their case in a memorial to the Treasury, when it 
 
 will have the most fair and candid consideration from him 
 
The Liberal Boroughreeve. 9 
 
 and his colleagues, in order to show the reasons against 
 the propriety or impracticability of the tax. This, I must 
 confess, appears me me to be reasonable, and what I 
 premised must be his answer before I left the country, and 
 when I last saw you. But as this affair is of so much 
 consequence to the town of Manchester and its neighbour- 
 hood, I must wish your and Mr. Richardson’s assistance 
 in town on the twenty-fourth, the day before the meeting 
 of Parliament.—Till then I remain, your faithful and 
 obedient servant, 
 ‘¢ BRIDGEWATER.” 
 
 The struggle brought the boroughreeve also many power- 
 ful friends. Colonel Egerton (afterwards Earl of Bridge- 
 water) ina letter (September 1785), after the struggle, ob- 
 serves that he shall henceforth look upon the Cotton Tax 
 (which formerly he had always abominated) as a good 
 thing, since it brought them in contact. Some sent friends 
 to see his manufactures; others thanked him for cour- 
 tesies and little services rendered. Lieutenant-General Bur- 
 goyne (late Constable of the Tower) wrote to him in October, 
 1785 :—‘I wish to carry to town, as a specimen of the 
 excellency of Manchester manufacture in muslins, three or 
 four lady’s aprons of as fine a sort as I can get. Lady 
 Horton has some that were made in Wilts, and are about 
 sixteen or seventeen shillings apiece, I believe. I should 
 
 not have thought of troubling you about such a trifle, if 
 
23 se ae ee 
 
 * 
 
 IO | Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 I had not been disappointed at the greatest retail shops 
 _ where I haye sent in Manchester.” The General signs him- 
 self “with the greatest truth and regard.” 
 
 Edmund Burke writes to the energetic and accomplished 
 Manchester delegate (May 8, 1788): “If you and Mr. 
 Cowper can breakfast here this morning at half after nine, I 
 shall be happy to converse with you on the subject of your 
 mission. I really very much desire to know distinctly what 
 Mr. Pitt really means to do on the business in the next 
 session, and when it is he proposes that the next session 
 should begin.” Men were early in those days. An invita- 
 tion to breakfast “this morning at half-past nine” is seldom 
 launched in these days by the busiest of members of Par- 
 liament. Lord Derby was, however, the staunchest of 
 Manchester’s friends. 
 
 “Sir,” writes his lordship to Mr. Walker, “ after the very 
 full and explicit manner in which I had the honour on 
 Friday last to explain my sentiments to you relative to the 
 proposed duties upon fustian, and my determination to take 
 any measure thought advisable by the committee at Man- | 
 chester to oppose it in every stage, I cannot hesitate a 
 moment in assuring you that I shall, in obedience to your 
 commands, set out very early to-morrow morning for Lon- 
 don, there to take such steps to prevent this Bill passing 
 into a law as may be thought proper by the committee 
 
 appointed for this purpose. 
 
Dan 
 
 ‘ ‘ 4 
 a ek 
 ” Fd 
 
 ne a ae 
 The ‘Liberal Boroughreeve. TH 
 
 “There is, however, sir, one objection which strikes me 
 very forcibly in opposition’to the manner in which (as at 
 present advised) your committee seem to me directed to 
 oppose the progress of this Bill; I lament most heartily the 
 shortness of time which prevents all possibility of any inter- 
 change or consideration of ideas upon this subject, which 
 will therefore reduce me to the necessity of meeting your 
 committee without being fully apprised of your meaning, 
 and consequently under great difficulties how to act in con- 
 ‘formity to your wishes, and at the same time agreeable to 
 those principles which I have laid down as the guide of 
 my public life. 
 
 “Tf when I arrive in town I shall find the Bill has passed 
 both Houses of Parliament, I shall with the greatest readiness 
 accompany your delegates to the foot of the throne, there 
 most humbly to represent the reasons why this Bill should 
 not pass into a law, which reasons should not have been 
 (from want of time) represented to either House of Par- 
 liament during the progress of the Bill; but in case I should 
 find the Bill still pending in the House of Lords, you must 
 permit me to say that I think the most proper and constitu- 
 tional method of opposition to it in the first instance will 
 be to oppose it there immediately by such arguments as 
 such poor abilities of mine, aided by those supplied by your 
 committee, may suggest to me. Should this, however, /az/, 
 
 I am then (and not till then, as I think the King should 
 
* id 
 
 12 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 constitutionally know nothing of any Bill till presented to 
 him for his approbation or rejection) ready and eager to join 
 with your committee in representing to His Majesty the 
 reasons why this Bill should not pass into law, and I must 
 express a hope that the petition to the King may be drawn 
 up upon these ideas. I have submitted my ideas to you on 
 this subject with the greatest freedom, indeed I should have 
 thought I trifled with you if upon a matter of such conse- 
 quence I had used any language which, however it might 
 agree with your opinions, could at any time have been 
 thrown in my teeth as contradictory to those principles of 
 the constitution which I hope and trust I shall make the 
 invariable guide of my conduct. I wish to serve not to flatter 
 you, and I would impress upon you that if I can do so in the 
 remotest degree, I shall consider it as the happiest circum- 
 stance of the life of, 
 ‘Sir, your very obedient and humble servant, 
 “ DERBY. 
 
 ** Knowsley, Aug. 16, 1784.” 
 
 In the following year Lord Derby’s relations with Mr. 
 Walker had warmed into cordial regard. In a letter from 
 Knowsley, dated August 21, 178s, about the Irish proposi- 
 tions, he says: “If by my attention to your wishes during 
 the Avogress of this unhappy business I have been fortunate 
 enough to obtain any portion of your esteem, I flatter 
 
 myself I shall never by any action of my life show myself 
 
we coe ke pee 
 ‘y * 
 
 Ne Lhe Liberal Boroughreeve. 13 
 
 either insensible to, or unworthy of it.” A month later he 
 invites Mr. Walker to Knowsley to meet and talk with 
 Mr. Fox, who is spending a day or two there—adding that 
 he shall always be happy in receiving him, or at any 
 opportunity of expressing his regard for him. Three years 
 later their acquaintance has improved so vastly over the 
 public business they had transacted in common, that Lord 
 Derby, with warm expressions of friendship, consented to 
 be godfather to one of Mr. Walker’s children: sent him an 
 invitation to see the play of “ Theodosius” at Richmond 
 House (May, 1788), and in the November of the same year 
 - was busy in getting his distinguished Manchester friend 
 elected a member of the Whig Club. His lordship doubted 
 not but the next meeting of the club would be happy “to 
 elect a member who would do them so much credit.” In 
 the same letter (November 28, 1788) he speaks of the 
 King: ‘‘His Majesty still continues exactly in the same 
 state, and I believe that neither his Ministers nor physicians 
 think there is any chance of his ever recovering his senses. 
 All the Council assembled yesterday at Windsor, and sat 
 a long time: I hear they resolved to move the King to- 
 morrow to Kew. By Pitt’s desire, Mr. Addington (formerly 
 a mediocre man, and a great friend of the late Lord 
 Chatham) saw His Majesty yesterday, and, I understand, 
 agrees entirely as to his insanity with all the doctors before 
 
 consulted. Various are the opinions of what will be done 
 
14 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 ‘next Thursday. I rather think they will propose a very 
 limited Regency.” Then Lord Derby wanders off to 
 inquiries about his godson, and signs himself ‘‘your sincere 
 friend.” 
 
 In his ee letter (December 6, 1788) the earl, after 
 congratulating his friend on his election to the Whig Club, 
 returns to the subject of the King’s health. ‘The doctors,” 
 he observes, ‘have made a very incomplete and confused 
 report of the King’s health ; it is, however, quite sufficient 
 to proceed upon, and next week will, I hope, see some 
 settled government in this country. The Prince behaves 
 perfectly well, and sticks steadily to his friends, so that your 
 friend Pitt will I hope very soon be reduced to a private 
 and subordinate situation.” On the roth of the same month 
 the earl wrote again to Mr. Walker on the unsettled state 
 of public affairs ; told him that Fox, although far from well, 
 had been speaking splendidly; and reported that the Prince 
 still remained firm. ‘The earl is sure His Royal Highness 
 will not accept of the Regency (if limited) unless his friends 
 think it prudent and advisable so to do. “He has seen a 
 fine opportunity to give an example of his future way of 
 acting, and I think seems sensible of it and determined to 
 act accordingly.” Other letters on the crisis followed 
 in quick succession: incessant acknowledgments of Mr, 
 Walker’s help and advice; the reiterated thanks of Fox ; 
 
 the terms on which the sole Regency was offered to the 
 
} pare hia s 
 
 The Liberal Boroughreeve. 15 
 
 Prince of Wales ; invitations to Knowsley when the hares 
 
 2 
 
 promise him “ good diversion ;’ and notes on the forth- 
 coming trial—the indictments of which appeared to the earl 
 “frivolous and ridiculous.” In short, Lord Derby corres- 
 ponded confidentially with Mr. Walker, on the rumours of 
 Court and Parliament, with the unreserve of the completest 
 friendship. At the same time the indefatigable merchant 
 and reformer kept up a correspondence with a crowd of 
 celebrities on all kinds of religious, political, and social 
 questions. Dr. Disney writes (September 15, 1791) to 
 acknowledge Mr. Walker’s donation of ten guineas to the 
 Unitarian Society ; and later, to thank him for a donation 
 in relief of “ poor Holt,” and to express a hope “ notwith- 
 standing appearances, possibly we may be advancing to the 
 removal of many abuses, to the permanent establishment of 
 civil liberty in this country.” George Dyer, from Clifford’s 
 Inn, begs him to get his new poem, “The Poet’s Fate,” 
 subscribed among his friends in Manchester, the times 
 being “unfavourable to poetry” and the volume only 
 eighteenpence—and its spirit being antagonistic to the 
 times and sacred to liberty and human happiness. Dr. 
 Ferriar addresses him: “To the many obligations which 
 you have conferred on me, and of which I must always 
 retain the strongest remembrance, I hope you will now 
 add another—that of allowing me to decline receiving any 
 
 fee on account of your late indisposition. The persuasion 
 
 eg 
 
16 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 that I have contributed to the restoration of your health is 
 a sufficient reward.” Earl Fitzwilliam says (roth September, 
 1785): “It makes me very happy that I am to have the 
 pleasure of seeing you on Tuesday, when you will meet 
 Mr. Fox.” Another unfortunate author (Mr. Frend) begs 
 him subscribe a couple of dozen of his book ‘‘ Animadver- 
 sions on the Elements of Christian Theology, by the Rev. 
 George Pretyman, D.D., F.R.S.;” and adds: “but if you 
 contribute one farthing towards the said two: dozen, don’t ~ 
 call me your friend.” Earl Grey writes to him from the 
 Admiralty (23rd February, 1806) that his protégé John 
 Bates, “a landman on board the Aevzz, shall be discharged 
 from the service as soon as his father has produced two 
 able-bodied landsmen to the regulating captain at Liver-— 
 pool.” 
 
 To Mr. Walker, in short, all the principal public men 
 of the Liberal side wrote for information, advice, and 
 assistance; from the time when he first took up the cudgels 
 for Lancashire industry, and achieved a victory for fustian 
 against Mr. Pitt. 
 
 He paid dearly for his victory—that victory which was 
 
 the starting-point of Manchester’s present greatness. 
 
: Crear PERT IT. 
 
 A MARKED MAN. 
 
 For thirty, years after the first French Revolution Man- 
 
 chester was in the power of the enemies of Reform. The» 
 
 principal inhabitants had been Jacobites, and had drunk 
 many bumpers in their favourite taverns or punch-houses to 
 “The King,” with green oak branches nodding over their 
 tumblers. But they proved merely pot-valiant in 1715 and 
 1745 when something more than toasts was confidently 
 expected of them; and they were ready for the House of 
 Hanover only when they found that the new family were not 
 more disposed than the old had been to extend popular 
 rights or’religious liberty. The despotism of the.Stuarts 
 having been put thoroughly aside by a House as fully dis- 
 posed to hold the people with a high hand, the sometime 
 Jacobite tipplers toasted Church and King at Shaw’s Punch- 
 house, or any handy inn. They tippled amiably enough 
 in any company after the Stuarts had been disposed of, till 
 a discussion arose in 1789 on the Test and Corporation 
 Acts. The Jacobite and the Hanoverian met over one mug, 
 the Churchman passed the port blandly to the Dissenter. 
 While there was no hope of Reform there was no reason 
 for anger. But when it suddenly appeared to the great 
 VOL. «.L. Cc 
 
18 Thomas Walker the Eledr. 
 
 Dissenting body of His Majesty’s subjects that, the times 
 being quiet and easy and the general spirit of the public 
 amiable ; they might renew their application to Parliament 
 for relief from the shameful disabilities which they had 
 suffered so long with reasonable hope of success; they 
 found that the fires which they had hoped were extin- 
 guished had only been banked up; that the old hate had 
 only slumbered ; and that they would be met with a fury 
 and cruelty worthy of the days of Sacheverell. Robert 
 Hall tells us that the petitioners to Parliament were over- 
 whelmed with shameless invective. ‘Their sentiments,” he 
 said, ‘‘have been misrepresented, their loyalty suspected, 
 and their most illustrious characters held up to derision 
 and contempt. ‘The effusions of a distempered loyalty are 
 mingled with execrations on that unfortunate sect, as if 
 attachment to the King were to be measured by the hatred 
 of Dissenters.” 
 
 In truth, the clergy of the Established Church linked 
 Church with King in the spirit of ‘“‘The Vicar of Bray” 
 —the song in which the Liberals of that day retorted on 
 their violent and unscrupulous opponents. ‘The Church 
 men’s love for the “mutton-eating King” was a loaf-and- 
 fish loyalty. It was while their eye was upon the tithe pig - 
 that they most dearly loved His Majesty—as they would 
 have loved the Stuart had he got safely back to St. James’s 
 
 in 1745. The alarm which they sounded in 1789 of ‘‘ The 
 
A Marked Man. 19 
 
 Church in Danger” was a poltroon’s note. They knew it 
 was a war-cry that would lash certain classes into ungovern 
 able fury and send many a man’s hand to his neighbour’s 
 throat; that it would provoke bloodshed ; that it would 
 bespatter ‘illustrious characters” with mud; and lastly, 
 that the Church was not in danger—yet they deliberately 
 uttered it with no more respectable excuse for their act 
 than the thief has who raises a cry of fire in a crowd. 
 
 The cry awoke all the slumbering animosities of the 
 Manchester Tories and Churchmen. They called a meeting 
 to consider and consult about the impropriety of the appli- 
 
 cation to Parliament of the Protestant Dissenters. They 
 described the Corporation and Test Acts as salutary laws 
 —*“ the great, bulwarks and barriers, for a century and up- 
 wards, of our glorious constitution in Church and State.” 
 The clergy attended in their gowns and cassocks*; the 
 meeting was packed, and amid uproar and high words a 
 resolution was carried to the effect that the religion of the 
 State should be the religion of the magistrate, “‘ without 
 which no society can be wisely confident of the integrity 
 and good faith of the persons appointed to places of trust 
 and honour.” Shortly before this packed Manchester 
 
 meeting, in which clergymen declared that the integrity 
 
 * ¢¢ Historical Sketches and Personal Recollections of Manchester : 
 intended to Illustrate the Progress of Public Opinion from 1792 to 
 1832.” By Archibald Prentice. (Charles Gilpin. 1851.) 
 
20 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 and good faith of Dissenters could not be relied on; a 
 
 debate had taken place in the House of Commons on the | 
 
 Test and Corporation Acts, in which the motion for the 
 
 repeal of these Acts had been rejected by a majority of. 
 
 only twenty. One hundred and two members had voted 
 with Mr. Fox that “no human government has jurisdiction 
 Over opinions as such, and more particularly religious 
 opinions.” ‘ 
 Party feeling ran high in those intolerant days. In a year 
 the base cry of “The Church in Danger” had increased 
 the majority against the repeal of the Test and Corporation 
 
 Acts from twenty to one hundred and eighty-nine. Mr. 
 
 Burke had lashed the House into great excitement by telling — 
 
 members—quoting a correspondent—that the object of the 
 Dissenters was not the destruction of the chose Acts, 
 but the abolition of the tithes and liturgy. This was enough 
 for the Church. Not the tip of the tail of the smallest 
 tithe pig should be,touched. The press must be put in 
 a state of bondage; and the editor of the Zzmes was in 
 Newgate to begin with. Mr. Prentice, who watched the 
 hateful struggle in Manchester, says: “The pulpit was 
 arrayed against the press—and the pulpit ‘had the best of 
 it. It was ten thousand against ten.” 
 
 These were the odds when the Church and King Club 
 was formed at Manchester. The Dissenters had been 
 
 badly beaten ; they were the poorer party ; they had few 
 
ey A Marked Man. — 21 
 
 champions. The members of the new club aired them- 
 selves ‘In uniforms enlivened with Old Church buttons, 
 and sang over their cups, “Church and King, and down 
 with the Rump.” Who would not drink confusion to 
 the Rump was a man to be tabooed and kept out of 
 society. ; 
 
 At this juncture of public affairs the well-known and 
 most respected Manchester merchant, Mr. Thomas Walker, 
 of Barlow Hall, appeared again prominently on the scene. 
 He was a staunch and fearless Liberal, yet a Churchman, 
 a gentleman of high character, and a man of commanding 
 energy, enterprise, and force of intellect. The beaten 
 Dissenters and Liberals, few in number and poor in in- 
 fluence, were of tough material. Their answer to the 
 uproarious Church and King men was the formation of 
 the Manchester Constitutional Society, with Mr. Thomas 
 Walker for president. 
 
 So low was Liberalism in Manchester when Mr. Walker 
 took office, that the two newspapers in the town had 
 begun to refuse communications on the side of liberty. A 
 member of the Manchester Constitutional Society started 
 a paper on the Liberal side, but after a stormy life of twelve 
 months, pursued by hostile authorities, and a Church and 
 King mob, it ceased to exist. The town was completely 
 under the domination of the enemies of all Reform, who 
 
 had an ignorant host at their back, whom clergymen did 
 
22 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 not scruple to lead against Reformers and Dissenters. 
 “Some twenty years afterwards,” Mr. Prentice observes, 
 “T used to hear Mr. Thomas Kershaw recount the perils 
 of those days, and express his joy that, however little pro- 
 gress Liberal opinions might have made, it was impossible 
 then to get up a Church and King mob.” 
 
 From the moment Mr. Thomas Walker assumed his 
 place as president of the Constitutional Society, the Liberal 
 cause took a new and vigorous life. He and his associates 
 were very much in earnest in times when earnestness on 
 the popular side led very often to the county gaol. The 
 declaration of the new society read nowadays, would be 
 acceptable to any Liberal-Conservative. Mr. Walker and 
 his committee affirmed that the members of the House of 
 Commons should owe their seats to the good opinion and 
 free suffrage of the people at large, and not to the prosti- 
 tuted votes of venal and corrupted boroughs. The society 
 disclaimed any idea of exciting to a disturbance of the 
 peace. It hoped to quash rising sedition by promoting a 
 timely and well-directed reform of abuses, and so removing 
 all pretences for it. A more moderate document, in short, 
 than that which bore Mr. Thomas Walker’s name could 
 not have been issued by a Reform Society. Within a 
 week of its appearance Government sent forth a proclama- 
 tion against wicked and seditious writings (in which this 
 
 mild manifesto was included), and exhorted all loyal citizens 
 
A Marked Man. ae 
 
 to beware of such emanations of the enemies of the public 
 weal. At the same time the magistrates were exhorted to 
 discover the authors and disseminators of such papers as 
 those in which purity of Parliamentary election and the 
 removal of the disabilities of Dissenters were openly advo- 
 cated. The activity of Mr. Walker and his friends—the 
 Government proclamation notwithstanding —stirred the 
 Manchester Church and King Club to extraordinary exer- 
 tions ; and they resolved to strike a blow on the King’s | 
 birthday (4th June, 1792) by voting an address of congra- 
 tulation to His Majesty on the Royal Proclamation. Mr. 
 Walker issued a counter address, in which he entreated 
 the members of all the Reform Associations in the town 
 and neighbourhood to keep clear of the meeting, in the 
 interests of peace. 
 
 “This precaution,’ Mr. Walker says in his review of the 
 political events which occurred in Manchester between the 
 years 1789 and 1794, ‘“‘ was but too necessary, for in the 
 evening of Monday, the 4th, a considerable number of 
 people assembled in St. Ann’s Square to see some illu- 
 minations, exhibited by two of His Majesty’s tradesmen, 
 when the crowd became very tumultuous and assaulted 
 several peaceable spectators; they proceeded to tear up 
 several of the trees growing there, one of which was carried 
 with great triumph to the Dissenters’ chapel, near the 
 
 square, and the gates attempted to be forced open, with 
 
24 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 er , 
 
 violent cries of ‘Church and King,’ ‘Down with the 
 Rump, ‘Down with it,’ &e. Another tree was carried 
 in the same riotous manner, and with the same exultation, 
 to the Unitarian Chapel, in Mosley Street. Fortunately, 
 however, the doors withstood the attacks made upon them, 
 the people were persuaded gradually to disperse, and about 
 one o’clock in the morning the streets became quiet, with- 
 out any further damage.” 
 
 This was the beginning of the campaign, a campaign in 
 which the ignorant workpeople were led by the influential | 
 citizens, and stimulated by the clergy against those who 
 were peacefully advocating the principles of which, in later 
 years, Manchester was destined to be the stronghold. The 
 ferocity with which the Church and King party acted to- 
 wards their antagonists, took many forms., The Reformer. 
 was shunned, despised, and maltreated. Many taverns 
 were inscribed ‘‘No Jacobins admitted here;” and. he 
 would have been a bold man indeed who had entered and 
 broached the very mildest Reform principles. Mr. Prentice 
 says that so late as 1825 one of these boards could be seen 
 in a Manchester public-house; and that it was at length 
 removed because the change which had come over the dream 
 of the citizens made it a dangerous sign to show. In 1792 
 the clergy, accompanied by a tax-gatherer, went the round 
 of the taverns, and warned the licensed victuallers that the 
 
 would admit a Reform Society within their own doors at 
 
A Marked Man. 25 
 
 the peril of their licence. At the same time they handed 
 _them a declaration for their signature. Mr. Walker re- 
 cords that 186 of the publicans were obsequious, for “ they 
 thought their licences of more value than our custom.” 
 The Church and King men were the deeper drinkers. 
 The Dissenters and Reformers met rather to discuss than 
 to make merry ; whereas the Tories had nothing to discuss 
 about, being the victorious party, and having resolved to 
 remain so, by the help of the police and the soldiery. 
 
 The declaration of the publicans referred to a meeting 
 which Mr. Walker’s party had convened to raise a subscrip- 
 tion for the sufferers by war in France. 
 
 Mr. Prentice says: ‘‘The public-house was now a most 
 effective auxiliary to the church, the publican to the parson, 
 and they formed a holy alliance against the mischievous 
 press. There was now hope that a more efficient mob 
 might be organised than that which only tore up a few 
 trees in St. Ann’s Square; there was the example of the 
 four days’ riots in Birmingham, and the destruction of 
 Dr. Priestley’s house and half a dozen others; and there 
 was a strong disposition to read a similar ‘wholesome 
 lesson’ to the disloyal of Manchester. A proclamation 
 was issued by Government on the 1st of December, 
 obviously to excite and prepare the people for war against 
 France ; and meetings were held, one in Salford on the 
 
 7th, and one in Manchester on the 11th of that month, at 
 
26 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 which it was earnestly striven to exasperate the public 
 mind. ‘Thomas Cooper, the barrister, had issued an 
 admirable address on the evils of war, but it produced 
 no effect on the roused passions of the multitude. A 
 rumour went out that there would be a riot that evening. 
 It was known that there would be one. Persons went 
 from .the meeting to the public-houses, which became 
 crowded, and thence parties proceeded and paraded the 
 streets with music before them, raising cries against 
 
 Jacobins and Presbyterians—meaning by the latter term 
 
 Dissenters—and carrying boards, on which the words 
 
 ‘Church and King’ were painted in large letters. As if 
 by a preconcerted scheme, the various parading parties 
 united in the market-place, opposite the publication office 
 of Faulkner and Birch, the printers of the Manchester 
 flerald, and, amidst lcud cries of ‘Church and King,’ 
 they attacked the house and shop with stones and brick- 
 bats till the windows were destroyed and beaten in at 
 the front of the house. Where were the friends of ‘social 
 order’ during the destruction of property? They were 
 there encouraging the drunken mob. Some respectable 
 persons urged upon those whose duty it was to protect 
 life and property to do their duty, but remonstrance was 
 unavailable. Unite, the deputy constable, on being applied 
 to, said—‘ They are loyal subjects ; let them alone ; let 
 
 them frighten him a bit; it is good to frighten these people.’ 
 
A Marked Man. nea. 
 
 This worthy then went to the mob, and clapping on the 
 back some of the most active in the work of destruction, 
 said—‘Good lads; good lads;’ and perceiving some 
 beadles attempting to do their duty, he said—‘ Come away; 
 d—n the house, don’t come near it.’ A gentleman re- 
 marked in the hearing of the Rev. Mr. Griffith, who was 
 standing looking on—‘ What scandalous work this is!’ 
 ‘Not at all, sir,’ replied the reverend gentleman ; ‘and if 
 I was called upon, I would not act against them.’ One 
 of the special constables was heard to say in another part 
 of the town—‘T’'ll give a guinea for every one of the 
 Jacobins’ houses you pull down.’ The work was going 
 bravely on, parson and publican doing their best. Mr. 
 Allen Jackson went to the house of Mr. Nathaniel Milne, 
 clerk to the magistrates (father to the present Mr. Oswald 
 Milne), and urged Mr. Bentley, a magistrate, to preserve 
 the peace; but he was told that it was ‘a scandalous, 
 shameful, abominable business to call out a magistrate on 
 such a trifling piece of business as breaking a few windows !’ 
 Mr. Jackson then found out the senior constable, and some 
 of the constables hearing the application, threatened to 
 kick him out of doors. So the printers and their friends 
 were left to defend the premises. ‘It was good to frighten 
 such people.’ From seven o’clock till eleven four several 
 attacks were made on Mr. Walker’s house. ‘It was good 
 
 to frighten’ such a man ; he was to be frightened in another 
 
28 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 way soon. The Attorney-General was to take the place of 
 a drunken mob.” 
 
 The president of the Constitutional Club, being a man 
 of energy and courage, took the commonest precautions 
 to effect that which the authorities, with the approbation 
 of the Government, refused to do for him. He protected 
 his home, with the help of some friends and arms, against 
 the mob. He declined to have his house ransacked under 
 the combined direction of the priests and the publicans. 
 Mr. Fox called the attention: of the House of Commons 
 to the reprehensible conduct of the Manchester authorities 
 while a “rabble rout were battering in the houses of peace- 
 able citizens ;” but he got his answer. Mr. Wyndham 
 excused both the magistrates and the mob. ‘‘ The indigna- 
 tion excited against Mr. Walker,” he said, ‘‘ was more fairly 
 imputable to his political opinions than to his being a 
 Dissenter. It was natural, and even justifiable, for men 
 to feel indignation against those who promulgated doctrines 
 threatening all that was valuable and dear in society; and 
 if there were not means of redress by law, even violence 
 would be justifiable.” 
 
 The president of the Constitutional Society wanted, not 
 only complete civil and religious liberty for all classes 
 of His Majesty’s subjects, not only the destruction of 
 rotten boroughs and purity of elections :—he was in favour 
 
 of peace! Such a politician, in those days, was indeed a 
 
 ” 
 _ a — re 
 
c 
 
 A Marked Man. 29 
 
 marked man ; and a secret society, with a public-house for 
 appropriate head-quarters, was formed to put him and his 
 colleagues down* by force, by the payment of spies, and 
 other highly reputable means. : 
 
 This society, aiding a daring and hostile Government, 
 soon found opportunities for making their animosity felt. 
 Mr. Walker was not, however, without powerful friends to 
 comfort him. The Marquis of Lansdowne wrote to him 
 (26th December, 1792): ‘I was excessively shock’d when I 
 read the account of the attempt made upon your brother’s 
 house, and heartily glad to hear that you escap’d so well, 
 as I take it for granted that you would both have run 
 the same risque. The times require patience, prudence, 
 and firmness. With these qualities, every thing right and 
 reasonable may be expected. Without them the public 
 
 have nothing to hope.” 
 
 — 
 
 * Society to put down Levellers, established at the Bull’s Head, 
 Manchester, December 12th, 1792. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 JACOBIN WALKER. 
 
 “Wuen Mr. Thomas Walker became Boroughreeve of 
 Manchester—then the second commercial town in the 
 empire—there can be no doubt that he was the most 
 popular citizen in it—his political opinions notwithstanding. 
 A merchant and manufacturer whose dealings spread to all 
 the commercial ports of the world; a man of ancient 
 
 family, and at the same time a resolute Liberal ; a citizen 
 
 who had always been foremost in every good cause affect- 
 
 ing the liberties or well-being of his fellow-townsmen ; and 
 a speaker and writer of considerable power, he held a place 
 in the public mind that drew upon him the notice of Fox 
 and Pitt. His opinions were of some consequence to these 
 statesmen. Pitt detested him as the leader of the successful 
 opposition to his Fustian Tax; and Fox esteemed him as a 
 valuable ally. In a slight memoir of him published in 1819 
 by William Hone, his activities in the cause of freedom and 
 
 humanity are rapidly sketched. 
 
 “His spirit,” says the writer, “shall not be insulted by 
 
 extravagant panegyric; that language would be worse than 
 valueless, for it could not be sincere ; yet the remains of 
 
 Thomas Walker must not be consigned to the tomb without 
 
 te! to a 
 
F$acobin Walker. 31 
 
 some tribute to his talents, his virtues, and his sufferings. 
 Throughout the whole course of a long and active life, 
 he was a steady and consistent friend both of civil and 
 religious freedom ; and, accordingly, when the repeal of 
 the Test and Corporation Acts was proposed in the House 
 of Commons, Mr. Walker, who was then a young man, 
 stood forwards here |the paper is dated from Manchester] 
 as a zealous and powerful advocate for the removal of those 
 odious and illiberal disqualifications. During the long 
 contests which preceded the abolition of the slave trade he 
 was a uniform and efficient enemy to that inhuman traffic. 
 His love of freedom, his hatred of tyranny, were not 
 circumscribed within the narrow limits of his native land. 
 Convinced that the natural tendency of liberty is to elevate 
 the character and increase the happiness of man, he 
 ardently wished to see its blessings extended all over the 
 world. The commercial interests of this town and neigh- 
 bourhood were especially indebted to him. . . . But 
 the most important and the most active period of his life 
 was during the early stages of the French Revolution. His 
 principles naturally led him, in common with so many of 
 the best and wisest of his countrymen, to hail as an 
 auspicious event the efforts made by the French people to 
 free themselves from the hateful despotism by which they 
 were misruled. He considered the original objects of 
 
 government as being in France completely inverted, 
 
32 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 because the sovereign authority, instead of being regarded 
 as a trust delegated by the people for their own benefit, was 
 there exercised, under the pretended sanction of divine 
 right, for purposes of the most exaggerated extortion and 
 the most cruel oppression. Under the influence of these © 
 feelings, Mr. Walker officiated as chairman at a public 
 dinner intended to commemorate the destruction of the 
 Bastille, and perhaps from this time may be traced the 
 commencement of that remorseless and malignant persecu- 
 tion which attacked successively his character, his property, 
 and his life.” 
 
 But in the year of his election as boroughreeve we find 
 him in the full flush of his prosperity, and at the height of 
 his activity. He was prominent not only in political and 
 party questions, but also in the administration of the 
 charitable institutions of the town—of which he published 
 an account after the expiration of his term of office. It 
 was, indeed, from his attendance at the Infirmary in Septem- 
 ber, 1790—almost on the eve of his election to the chief 
 magistracy,—that he dated the beginning of those troubles 
 which, in the end, ruined his fortunes, and were the sole 
 reward of his unselfish life. No man could hold the position 
 Mr. Walker held in Manchester, at the breaking out of the 
 French Revolution, without incurring the active hostility of 
 a few disappointed or sour-spirited fellow citizens. Mr. 
 
 Walker discovered his first determined enemy while he 
 
Facobin Walker. 23 
 
 was advocating additions to the staff of physicians and 
 “surgeons mes the poor of Manchester. He was opposed 
 by a gentleman lately returned from America, ruined by 
 the war; and who, having been called to the bar, had just 
 selected Manchester as the theatre of his career. Mr. 
 William Roberts was fired with the desoin de paraitre. He 
 had made a little way; but his burning desire was to 
 become a household word in Cottonopolis; and he saw no 
 better road to this sudden fame than through an attack 
 upon the popular citizen whom he called “the great 
 Walker.” He first crossed swords with the “great” man in 
 September: the “great” man remaining all the time 
 utterly unconscious of the engagement. Proud of the 
 achievement, he made it a subject of conversation at the 
 Bridgewater Arms, and at the dinner table of Messrs. 
 Heywood, the bankers. In the coffee-room of his inn, 
 whither he repaired, drunk, from Messrs. Heywood’s table, 
 he rallied the secretary of the Infirmary about the ‘‘great” 
 man; observed that he was his match as an extempore 
 speaker any day; and gave the company in the coffee-room 
 to understand that he was preparing an attack upon the 
 greatness of his enemy, who, he alleged, had affronted him. 
 Mr. Roberts, having laid down his plans, went boldly to 
 work, casting low epithets at the gentleman with whom he 
 was picking a quarrel, and denouncing him in a public room 
 as a proud, haughty, overbearing, imperious fellow. He 
 
 VOL. L D 
 
34 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 proclaimed that he should take the earliest opportunity of 
 assailing him; and he expressed his regret that he had not 
 called him a “damned liar ” at the Infirmary. 
 
 It was while Mr. Roberts was polishing his weapons, 
 and airing his valour a good deal at the Tory inns, that Mr. 
 Walker was elected boroughreeve. His new dignity, no 
 doubt, gave fresh zest to the animosity of the enemy who 
 was lying in wait for him. Mr. Roberts, in the course of 
 his preparations for battle, perceived a second advantage 
 to be got out of the encounter. The discomfiture of the 
 chief destroyer of the Fustian Tax would be a welcome bit 
 of news to Mr. Pitt, and it might commend its author to 
 the Minister. 
 
 The celebration of the glorious Revolution of 1688—an 
 annual festival in Manchester—was in 1790 presided over 
 by the boroughreeve. ‘‘ There were convened,” to use the 
 words of Mr. Law, afterwards Lord Ellenborough, “for this 
 anniversary many gentlemen of consideration and note in 
 the town and neighbourhood of Manchester; and it 
 happened that Mr. Walker was put in the chair as president 
 of that meeting, by the voluntary election of the gentlemen 
 present ; other gentlemen of consideration and property 
 were placed at the head of other tables.” 
 
 Could Mr. Roberts have a better opportunity than this ? 
 It was a picked company—including the High Sheriff for 
 
 the county of Lancaster. How the occasion was turned to 
 
Yacobin Walker, 35 
 
 account ; and the course the boroughreeve pursued under a 
 low and cowardly affront, I will leave Mr. Law to relate. 
 His speech, the interest of the subject apart, deserves for 
 its masterly range over the case and its delicate eloquence, 
 to be disinterred from the old pamphlet in which I have | 
 found it. The speaker was Mr. Walker’s counsel, when 
 Mr. Roberts was brought by the outraged boroughreeve to 
 the Lancaster Assizes to answer a charge of libel, on March 
 25,1791. 
 
 “It often occurs,” said Mr. Law, ‘“‘in the course of our 
 professional life, and whenever it does occur a most painful 
 circumstance it is, that we are obliged, in the discharge of 
 its necessary duties, to oppose ourselves to the interests, the 
 wishes, and sometimes to the tenderest feelings of those 
 with whom we have antecedently lived in the habits of some 
 familiar intercourse and acquaintance—but considerations 
 of this sort, or even of that regard which grows out of 
 a near degree of intimacy and friendship, if any such had 
 happened to subsist between the defendant and myself, 
 would not (as surely they ought not) warp my conduct upon 
 this occasion—recollecting, as I must, that I represent Mr. 
 Walker, the gentleman who sits by me; a person injured 
 almost beyond the limits of any recompense which it is in 
 your power to make him; for I defy my learned friend to 
 tell me how a person applying himself with the most 
 
 deliberate and industrious malignity to ransack the English 
 
 D2 
 
he Thomas Walker the Flee 
 
 language for terms of the most severe and cutting reproach, 
 could have succeeded better ; or could, indeed, have found 
 and applied any that so immediately strike at everything 
 that is honourable in man; everything which constitutes a 
 part of the general estimation, either of a gentleman, a. 
 merchant, or a citizen of the community, as those terms 
 which his client has thought fit to employ on this occasion. 
 The language has been ransacked but too successfully, and 
 the paper I will now read to you is the mischievous result 
 of this ill-applied diligence :— 
 Mr. THOMAS WALKER 
 Commenced his virulence against me likea * BULLY. 
 Has conducted it like a # * * * Foo... 
 
 Has acted init like a * * * * * SCOUNDREL. 
 
 Has endeditlikea * * * * * COWARD. 
 
 ‘ 
 
 At last hasturned * * = * * BLACKGUARD. 
 And unworthy of association with, or notice of any gentleman | 
 who regards his own character. 
 WILLIAM ROBERTS. 
 This is not a sudden gust of anger, arising out of some 
 unforeseen occasion, as perhaps my learned friend may 
 endeavour to impress you that it is, but is the mature fruit 
 of a deliberate preconceived purpose of traducing and injuring 
 Mr. Walker ; a purpose which the defendant had not only 
 the wickedness to conceive, but the folly to declare, long 
 before this publication found its way into the world; a 
 
 purpose of lowering and degrading him in the estimation 
 
r Facobin Walker. 37 
 
 and within the immediate circle of his own fellow-citizens— 
 and by the aid of that commodious vehicle which he has 
 adopted for the circulation of his slander, of propagating 
 his name with every vile note and appellation of infamy 
 tacked to it, to the remotest corners of the world, at least 
 as far as our national commerce, and the connections of 
 Mr. Walker (which are, I believe, nearly co-extensive with 
 the range of that commerce), are in fact extended and 
 dispersed.” 
 
 Mr. Law described the scene at the banquet :— 
 
 “‘ After the cloth was removed, toasts. of course went 
 round, and it is usual, you know, to call for songs, and such 
 are generally called for as commemorate either the triumphs 
 of our country or the gallant achievements of individuals 
 who have at different periods adorned it; after songs of 
 this kind, which are most peculiarly calculated to elevate 
 the hearts of Englishmen, any others which are most likely 
 to promote the mirth and entertainment of a public meeting - 
 are in turn brought forward.” 
 
 Unfortunately for the mirth and the entertainment a 
 gentleman suggested, to follow ‘“‘The Vicar of Bray ” the 
 song of “ Billy Pitt the Tory,” and requested Mr. Walker 
 to call for it. Of the song Mr. Law remarked: “It isa 
 song which I do not know whether you can call perfectly 
 innocent and inoffensive, but there is certainly some humour 
 
 in it; and I am confident that the gentleman whose name 
 
38 Thomas Walker the Elder. | 
 
 that song bears (being at once a good-humoured man, a 
 man of humour, and equally disposed to delight in the wit 
 of others as to indulge the exercise of his own) would have | 
 sat perfectly undisturbed at hearing the song, if he had not 
 even joined in the laugh which it occasioned ; this, how- 
 ever, furnished an occasion of quarrel to the sore and pre- 
 meditated spirit of Mr. Roberts.” He objected to the 
 song “in a clamorous and angry manner,” and “ Britannia 
 rules the Waves” was substituted ; but Mr. Roberts would 
 not let the opportunity pass, and, stepping up to him, 
 ended an insolent speech with “God damn you, but you 
 shall hear from me.” 
 
 Mr. Walker did hear from Mr. Roberts accordingly in 
 the form above described, which Mr. Law described as 
 ‘a wicked scroll of slander.” There is not the least doubt 
 that political animosities envenomed the wounds which Mr. 
 Pitt’s toady inflicted; and that the case was carried to the 
 assizes at Lancaster on the boiling tide of party hate. 
 
 The Tories of the Bull’s Head were the doughty backers 
 of Mr. Roberts ; and they contrived to keep the fire of the 
 two antagonists unabated long after the Revolution dinner 
 had been digested, and to give the quarrel such public 
 importance that Mr. Gurney was summoned from London 
 to take a verbatim note of the trial, which note lies before 
 me. The evidence of the witnesses presents a vivid pic- 
 
 ture of the dinner, which began early in the afternoon, and 
 
*» 
 
 Facobin Walker. 39 
 
 at which the convives, on their own confession, drank “a 
 good deal of wine.” In his cups one gentleman turns to 
 his neighbour and wildly observes, “ What can Mr. Roberts 
 possibly have said to Mr. Walker that makes him look so 
 damnation poisonous at him?” Mr. Walker’s brother-in- 
 law deposes that he had drunk a good deal of wine when 
 the quarrel happened—“ two or three hours” after dinner 
 —which began at half-past three. It was an uproarious 
 gathering of gentlemen in buff and blue, sprinkled with 
 visitors in brown, like Mr. Roberts ; and the quarrel, begun 
 at the dinner table, was continued at supper tables all over 
 the city. 
 
 The jury gave Mr. Walker £100 damages, but they left 
 the hatred of the Tories—of Billy Pitt’s men—concentrated 
 upon his devoted head; and this hate soon made itself 
 felt. In Mr. Walker’s vast correspondence with the notable 
 political men of his day, I find not only warnings against 
 conspirators and spies, but intimations that it is necessary 
 to be cautious in correspondence, because “the post is not 
 secure or faithful.” Foul machinery was at work to crush 
 men of the popular Manchester merchant’s influence and 
 principles. Mr. Thos. Brand Hollis writes to him in 1793 
 to be discreet and cautious against a certain clever and 
 accomplished Roman Catholic informer ‘‘who may be on 
 his way to Manchester.” ‘Do not expose yourself unne- 
 
 cessarily, but think of better times when you may be 
 
45 Thomas Walker the Elder 
 
 wanted!” Then a pleasant touch, “ Franklin said of a 
 
 person of whom you have heard, that if there warn’t a hell 
 there ought to be one made on purpose for such a villain.” 
 Again: “Too much caution cannot be taken with respect 
 to speech, the temptations to information are so great and 
 numerous.” Mr. Walker’s purse was open to Paine (as, 
 indeed, it appears to have been to all with whom he sym- 
 pathised), who writes to thank him for thirty guineas which 
 went to advertise their publications in the county papers ; 
 and when Dr. Priestley suffered by the Birmingham riot, 
 Mr. Walker was among the first who came to his help, in 
 conjunction with his Constitutional Society. Whereupon 
 the Doctor wrote: ‘As a sufferer in the cause of liberty, 
 I hope I am justified in accepting your very generous 
 
 contribution towards my indemnification on account of | 
 the riot in Birmingham, and I return you my grateful 
 acknowledgments for it. Your address is too flattering 
 to me. It will, however, be a motive with me to continue 
 my exertions, whatever they have been, in favour of truth 
 and science, which, in thus patronising me, you wish to 
 promote. And notwithstanding my losses, I consider my- 
 self as more than compensated by your testimony in my 
 favour and that of others whose approbation I most value. 
 Permit me to make my more particular acknowledgments 
 to the member of the Church of England who joined in 
 
 this contribution. Such liberality does honour to any 
 
‘ : ! 
 
 Facobin Walker. AI 
 
 religion, and certainly the rioters of Birmingham ought not 
 to be considered as belonging to any Church whatever.” 
 Thomas Paine (April 30, 1792) describes all his plans 
 and business to his ‘‘ sincere friend ” Walker. “The first 
 and second parts of the ‘ Rights of Man’ are printing com- 
 pleet, and not in extract. They will come at ninepence 
 each. The letter on the ‘Convention’ will contain full as 
 much matter as Mr. Macauly’s half-crown answ* to Mr. 
 Burke, it will be printed close, and come at 6d. of the 
 same size paper as the ‘ Rights of Man.’ As we have now 
 got the stone to roll it must be kept going by cheap publi- 
 cations. This will embarrass the Court gentry more than 
 anything else, because it is a ground they are not used to.” 
 Mr. Walker was a marked man, not only on the Tory 
 lists, but on those of his own party. The applications to 
 the rich merchant for help were incessant. He subscribed 
 to every fund, every publication that was of his side. 
 Messrs. Sharp and Murray send him (April 26, 1793) 
 “twenty prints of Mr. Payne’s head, and five proofs with 
 writing unfinished—it being intended Mr. Payne to have a 
 benefit arising from the sale of this head.” Three months 
 later the generous merchant appears (as “ Citizen Thomas 
 Walker”) on the list of subscribers for their edition of 
 Thomson’s “Seasons.” In 1795 the same publishers were 
 engraving Mr. Walker’s “ Head” after Romney’s portrait.* 
 
 * In the possession of Mrs. Eason Wilkinson (of Greenheys, Man. 
 chester), granddaughter of Mr. Walker, 
 
42 Thomas Watker the Elder. 
 
 “This day,” writes Mr. Sharp, “ I am with Romney, for his 
 remarks, that no further delay may be in the printing. If 
 you will be kind enough to get into a good scrape—it will 
 make it sell wonderfully well.” Jocose William Sharp ! 
 Surely Mr. Walker had been in scrape enough, only a year 
 ago, to satisfy the greediest of publishers. A month later 
 (March 3, 1795) Mr. Sharp reports that the engraving is 
 finished: ‘It is finished under Romney’s directions, sub- 
 mitting to him also your letter dated 11th February. The 
 wrinkles in the forehead I have not attended to; they 
 come and go until sixty years or seventy—according to 
 circumstances, and make no part of the character.” 
 
 Mr. Walker endorsed this letter with the remark: “‘ There 
 was very great delay on the part of W. Sharp in finishing 
 this engraving, which ought to have been brought out 
 twelve months sooner.” 
 
 Then was the subject of it in a very great scrape indeed ! 
 
 It had been preparing for a year or two. In 1792 Mr. 
 Walker wrote to his friend Cooper that the aristocrats ot 
 Manchester were endeavouring to prosecute him for talking 
 “what they call treason” to some of his neighbours, in his 
 own house. “Since which time,” he adds, “Mr. Justice 
 Clowes has been very busy taking depositions for the pur- 
 pose of prosecuting me ; which depositions, I am informed, 
 
 have already been sent up to Government.” 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TRIAL FOR CONSPIRACY. 
 
 THOMAS WALKER was, in his way, a humourist as well 
 as a patriot. ‘The Reformer was occasionally sunk in the 
 wag. One night, returning home, probably from some 
 meeting of his party, he saw a man put his head to 
 the iron grating of a cellar window, and heard him say 
 
 !” In answer a hand was thrust out well laden with 
 
 “ Twig 
 tid-bits ; and the man went gaily on his way. A few nights 
 afterwards, passing the same cellar window on his home- 
 ward road, Mr. Walker determined to try his fortune. He 
 put his mouth to the grating and cried “Twig,” and 
 waited amoment. A huge turkey-leg was thrust out. The 
 magistrate took it, and carried it home in triumph to his 
 astonished family. 
 
 In 1788 we find his friends Richard Tickell and Joseph 
 Richardson amusing themselves by forwarding him the 
 following memorial :— 
 
 “A Joint MEMorRIAL OF RICHARD TICKELL AND JOSEPH 
 RICHARDSON TO THOMAS WALKER, Esa. 
 “Most Humbly Sheweth,— 
 “That your memorialists have long been afflicted with 
 
 close and pressing Grievances, to which they have 
 
44 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 submitted with silent Patience and exemplary Resignation. 
 That the former of your memorialists is touched by Dis- 
 tresses that go to the very Bottom of his Comforts—that 
 newer and closer Difficulties press hard upon the latter, 
 _and, as it were, cling to his very heart itself. 
 
 “That the one contemplates with melancholy concern 
 the forlorn and desolate Situation of his Chairs and Sopha, . 
 
 without a decent covering to rescue them from absolute 
 Nakedness. | 
 
 | 
 ih 
 5 
 a 
 ] 
 
 “That the other anticipates with dismal Apprehensions 
 the coming Horrors of approaching Winter through the 
 ruins of dilapidated Waistcoats and lacerated Manchester. 
 
 “That these Evils have hitherto been tolerated by your 
 seatless and westless memorialists from a firm, confident, 
 and they trust well-governed Relyance on the Ability, the 
 Justice, the good Faith, and the undisputed Honour of that 
 beneficent Friendship to which they thus humbly submit 
 the melancholy Statement of their unparalleled Necessities. 
 
 ‘“That your memorialists derive a further ground of 
 implicit rehance on the decisive and prompt assistance of 
 their trusty Patron, from remembering the liberal grants 
 which he has nobly bestowed upon a fellow-labourer in 
 the cause of Manchester and Freedom; who now in the 
 capacity of a Doctor of Civil Law is relieved from the many 
 hard embarrassments which your memorialists are fated to 
 
 sustain in humbler lines of patient perseverance. 
 
2 vial for Conspiracy. A5 
 
 “That, in order to mark the utmost readiness upon their 
 parts to diminish the inconveniences of this joint taxation 
 of their Friend, they hereby engage to pay the carriage of 
 the several Parcels to be forwarded to them upon this occa- 
 - sion; and further, that they hereby solemnly declare that 
 neither their Upholsterers’ nor their Taylors’ Bills shall be 
 transmitted to Mr. Walker, for the making up of any of 
 the respective materials to be by him contributed on the 
 present emergency; however indispensably they may find 
 themselves obliged to send any others of a different de- 
 
 scription. 
 
 “That your memorialists most humbly conclude with 
 briefly reassuring you of their distresses, as well as of your 
 own undertaking—convinced that you will feel for the 
 former with as much humanity as you will exercise the 
 latter with spirit and enthusiasm, more especially when you 
 are acquainted that the Paper of the former’s Apartments 
 is French Grey, and the Coats of the latter of British Blue. 
 
 ** And your memorialists will ever pray, &c.” 
 
 The fund of humour that was in Jacobin Walker, long 
 after he had been very rudely buffeted by the world, and 
 that showed itself in the midst of his hard labours, and 
 under the weight of virulent party persecution ; is appealed 
 to in the above whimsical memorial from a side that lets 
 
 us see the Manchester merchant’s unflagging generosity also. 
 
46 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 In the thickest of the fight he had always time for welcome 
 
 kindnesses. Horne Tooke writes to him from Wimbledon 
 
 (Feb. 10, 1796) :— 
 
 ‘My dear Sir,—On Sunday last (February 7) I received 
 both your letter and present, for which I am much obliged 
 to you. Your gooseberries and potatoes shall be carefully 
 planted, and I will not spare manure. Justice shall be 
 done to them—and the same I promise to any other things, 
 or persons, which you may at any time put into my hands. 
 
 Justice to Red Traitors. 
 
 ‘““Gurney has taken the trial better than any other man = ° 
 
 would have taken it. But it is not quite fairly given as 
 it respects me. The Chief Justice, the Attorney-General, the 
 Solicitor-General, Erskine, Gibbs, were all permitted to see 
 it, previously to publication, consequently to correct; I 
 was not permitted to see it. Upon reading the trial, I 
 found there were strong (if not good) reasons why I should 
 not. 
 
 “I was too kind to Beaufoy. He deserved hanging ; 
 but not so much as his leaders, who are, I trust, reserved 
 
 for it. 
 
 “T shall be happy to see your brother—still happier to ’ 
 
 see you, when the opportunity comes. 
 ‘‘Cooper is judge of his district: I wish he was Chief 
 
 Justice of England. I write hastily, because the frank will 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 47 
 
 not serve to-morrow. God bless you and your family. I 
 do not know whether Tuffer is yet come to England. How 
 
 long will it be before England comes to itself ? 
 
 ‘‘JoHN Horne TOoKE.” 
 
 The friendship had warmed between the two before 1799, 
 
 when Tooke writes :— 
 
 ‘¢T this moment receive your most agreeable notice: you 
 break in upon no engagement of mine; and if you did, 
 my engagements should bend without breaking. We will 
 expect you till we see you; desiring you to pay no other 
 regard to time, but as it shall best suit yourselves. My 
 
 love to your son and daughter. My girls desire the same. 
 ‘Your very affectionate, 
 
 ‘J. HorNE Tooke.” 
 
 The visit was impeded by an attack of measles, suffered 
 by Miss Walker ; whereupon Tooke wrote :—“ One of my 
 maids has left me, and I have not yet supplied her place. 
 My other maid is ill; and I am forced to borrow, in the 
 middle of the day, Sir F. Burdett’s only maid, for at present 
 he has only one in his house (Lady Burdett having taken 
 the four other maidservants with her.)” He adds :—“If 
 at any time I can make myself, my house, or anything that 
 
 belongs to me useful, pleasant, or convenient to you or any 
 
48 Thomas Walter the Elder. 
 
 of your family, I shall like myself and all that belongs to 
 me the better for it, for I am most sincerely your affection- 
 ate friend.” 
 
 It was Mr. Walker’s gracious habit to send his fruit, his 
 game, his flowers, and of his manufactures to his friends. 
 Thanks for gifts are in half the bulky volumes of letters he 
 left behind him. The Hon. Thomas Erskine writes (roth 
 April, 1787) to thank his friend for his present of fabrics, 
 and says he shall value it “not merely for the beauty of 
 the manufacture, but for the respect I have for the giver ;” 
 and hopes to be favoured with his company to dinner 
 before he leaves town. Mr. Erskine concludes, ‘‘I ever 
 am, dear sir, sincerely yours.” Afterwards Mr. Erskine 
 visited his friend at Barlow. 
 
 In Hone’s brief memoir he observes :—“ The devoted- 
 ness displayed by Mr. Walker, both on this (the abolition of 
 the Fustian Tax) and other public occasions, and the 
 personal sacrifices he made, were exemplary if they were 
 not imprudent.” Their imprudence was shown in the 
 ingratitude which rewarded them, and in the shameless 
 persecution which attacked his honour and sought his life. 
 He triumphed before a jury of his countrymen; but as a 
 merchant he was gradually reduced from affluence to suffer 
 by narrow means. The beginning of his downward course 
 as a manufacturer dates from his arraignment for conspiracy. 
 
 “‘Convinced,” the writer of the notice on his death 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 49 
 
 observes, “that a renovation of some parts of our Con- 
 stitution, of which the lapse of time had destroyed the 
 stability or injured the purity, was essentially necessary for 
 the maintenance both of the just rights of the Crown, and 
 the natural liberties of the people; he assisted in the 
 establishment of an association for diffusing political 
 knowledge, which was called the ‘Constitutional Society, 
 and of which he was chosen chairman. But although the 
 Minister of the day had himself been an active promoter of 
 similar institutions, yet when he had sacrificed his principles 
 to the prejudices of those who looked with alarm on the 
 dawning liberties of France, the strong hand of power 
 was exerted to check the growth of liberal principles 
 and constitutional information. Under the pretexts of 
 ‘meditated revolution,’ and of danger to the existence of 
 ‘social order and religion,’ the liberties of the subject 
 were infringed in an unprecedented and _ outrageous 
 manner, an extensive encouragement was given to hired 
 spies and informers, and in the latter part of 1793 Mr. 
 Walker and six of his friends, as well as many other men of 
 eminence in different parts of the kingdom, were arrested 
 on a charge of ‘conspiring to overthrow the Government, 
 and to assist the King’s enemies in their intended invasion 
 of the kingdom.’ Under this charge these seven gentlemen 
 were tried at Lancaster on the 2nd April, 1794.” 
 
 Mr. Walker, to use engraver Sharp’s jocular phrase, had _ , 
 
 WiOlant: E 
 
50 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 been kind enough to get into a good scrape. The 
 Government, in their prosecutions, wanted “to pick their — 
 birds,” and in Mr. Pitt’s Manchester enemy (who by 
 his energy had laid the foundation of Manchester’s 
 greatness) they had secured a good one. ‘The shameless 
 measures that were used in order to secure a verdict 
 against Mr. Walker and his companions were afterwards 
 exposed in Mr. Walker’s Review of Political Events in 
 Manchester. The informer was engaged to swear away 
 the liberty of the accused. Benjamin Booth confessed that 
 when he was confined in the New Bailey every possible 
 effort was made by the Rev. Mr. Griffith and by the 
 taskmaster and others—notabilities of Manchester—to 
 make him join evidence with the informer Dunn, “three 
 very young children and a_ wife’s distresses” being 
 continually held up to him to compel his assent. He 
 was assured that the Government “did not want to take 
 Walker’s life; but something which would subject him to 
 fine and imprisonment.” To the man’s honour be it 
 recorded that he recanted the false evidence which had 
 been extorted from him by threats of the halter and the 
 disgrace of his family, the moment he was set at lberty. 
 Dunn, who was kept as nearly drunk as possible by order 
 of the Reverend Justice Griffith, went through with his 
 infamous task. ‘To humour him and keep up his courage, 
 
 this clergyman did not scruple to give directions that he 
 
: 7 Trial for Conspiracy. Gs 
 
 should be provided with all the drink he required, and that 
 he should board with the taskmaster’s family. Dunn 
 knew his power and drank his fill. The copy of the bill 
 for Dunn and Booth and their wives, sent by the taskmaster 
 of the New Bailey to the clergyman John Griffith, who had 
 the false witness in charge, was obtained afterwards by 
 Mr, Walker. 
 
 *“‘ Robinson says” (I am quoting Mr. Walker’s “ Political 
 Events ”) ““when he first saw Dunn it was at John Griffith’s 
 (the clergyman’s), and Dunn was then drunk. Griffith told 
 Robinson that Dunn had then drunk a bottle of shrub or 
 sherry, but he don’t remember which. Dunn told Robinson 
 he thought of going to America, and they had disappointed 
 him, otherwise he should not have done anything of this 
 kind—meaning swearing against Walker, Paul, or others ; 
 he then said he wished he was dead; he also told Robinson 
 he was to have had his place as ‘taskmaster at the New 
 Bailey, but for his having to appear in evidence against 
 Walker, Paul, Collier, Jackson, and others, and that it 
 would look bad if he had it. Robinson says Dunn hurt his 
 fingers, and desired his wife to give him a little rum to 
 bathe them; she brought out a bottle nearly full; but 
 Robinson being cailed away Dunn stole the rum and drank 
 it. | AS soon as Mrs. Robinson missed the rum she went 
 into Dunn’s room and accused him with stealing the rum, 
 
 and asked him if he was not afraid it would kill him ; he 
 
 E2 
 
52 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 answered he wished it would, for he wished he was dead. 
 Dunn was not well for two or three days after. Robinson 
 says his face seemed inflamed and red the next day. As 
 Robinson was ordered to indulge Dunn in everything, he 
 had ee to go with him to Blakely Rush-burying, or wake. 
 Dunn ordered five shillings worth of liquor, and placed 
 the reckoning to John Griffith, Robinson thinks the 
 landlord’s name is Travis, but is not sure; it was a publick- 
 house on the left-hand side.” 
 
 This work of warming and humouring a false witness 
 obtained “‘ much credit” for the Rev. John Griffith with the 
 High Church party in Manchester. He did not steal the 
 praise. Mr. Walker says :—‘‘ The Rev. Mr. Griffith, junior, 
 told a person, through whom it comes to me, that Dunn was 
 a long time before he would say anything, but that he 
 (Griffith) out with a decanter of strong Hollands gin, or 
 shrub, and made the dog drunk, and then he began to 
 open; that he showed him (Dunn) his examination when he 
 came to himself, and that he had always stood to it since. 
 The same person has also heard the reverend magistrate 
 declare that he would not leave Walker a pair of shoes—he 
 would ruin him. In conformity to this, Griffith junior has 
 also declared in the presence of other persons his readiness 
 to stab Walker, and that he would hang him if possible.” 
 
 In this way the testimony was produced on which 
 
 Mr. Walker and six others were tried at Lancaster as 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 53. 
 
 “wicked, seditious, and ill-disposed persons, and disaffected 
 
 to our Sovereign Lord the now King and the Constitution 
 and Government of this kingdom as by law established, &c.” 
 A warrant for high treason had been issued—but was not 
 executed. The prisoners were charged with having con- 
 spired “with force and arms” to overthrow the Government; 
 to aid and assist the French, then the King’s enemies ; and, 
 for these purposes, with having drilled their accomplices. 
 Mr. Walker was charged, on Dunn’s testimony, with having 
 said—“ What are kings? Damn the King; what is he to 
 us? If I had him in my power, I would as soon take his 
 head off as I would tear this paper.” With this expression, 
 Mr. Walker—according to Dunn—tore a piece of paper 
 asunder. 
 
 Mr. Walker, when the trial was called on (April 2, 1794) 
 at Lancaster before Mr. Justice Heath, found himself 
 encompassed by powerful supporters. Among his own 
 counsel were his staunch friends Erskine (who was his 
 guest) and Felix Vaughan; but long before the day of 
 hearing the public men with whom he acted had gathered 
 about him. I find in Mr. Walker’s correspondence a letter 
 from Thomas Clarkson dated November 13, 1793, from 
 Chester. He says: “I have no business at Manchester, 
 but wishing to see you on the Business of the impending 
 Tryal, and to go over some points which it may be useful 
 
 to the Cause to ascertain, it is my Intention to visit you. 
 
54 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 I shall hardly I think be at Manchester till the 16th in the 
 morning. JI am on Horseback. I don’t wish it to be 
 known that I am at Manchester, and should therefore like 
 to ride up to your House, and spend the day with you, 
 
 and be off next morning.” 
 
 Mr. Law, Attorney-General for the County Palatine of — 
 
 Lancaster, led for the Crown; and in his opening address 
 to the jury dwelt on the heinous nature of the opinions 
 and operations of the Manchester Constitutional Society— 
 as attested by Dunn. Mr. Law said: 
 
 ‘“‘It was about the close of the year 1792 that the French 
 
 nation thought fit to hold out to all the nations on the — 
 
 globe, or rather, I should say, to the discontented subjects 
 of all those nations, an encouragement to confederate and 
 combine together, for the purpose of subverting all regular 
 established authority amongst them, by a decree of that 
 nation of the 19th of November, 1792, which I consider as 
 the immediate source and origin of this and other mis- 
 chievous societies. That nation, in convention, pledged to 
 the discontented inhabitants of other countries its protection 
 and assistance, in case they should be disposed to innovate 
 and change the form of government under which they had 
 heretofore lived. Under the influence of this fostering 
 encouragement, and meaning, I must suppose, to avail 
 themselves of the protection and assistance thus held out 
 
 to them, this and other dangerous societies sprang up, and 
 
 ee ——— | é 
 
SU te) poe nt me > € 
 | am og 4 
 
 Trial for Conspiracy. 55 
 
 _ spread themselves within the bosom of this Palins Gentle- 
 men, it was about the period I mentioned, or shortly after 
 —I mean in the month of December, which followed close 
 upon the promulgation of this detestable decree, that the 
 society on which I am about to comment, and ten members 
 of which are now presented in trial before you, was formed. 
 
 [The Manchester Society was formed in October, 1790.] 
 The vigilance of those to whom the administration of justice 
 and the immediate care of the police of the country is 
 primarily entrusted, had already prevented or dispersed 
 every numerous assembly of persons which resorted to 
 public-houses for such purposes; it therefore became 
 necessary for persons thus disposed to assemble themselves 
 to do so, if -at all, within the walls of some private mansion. 
 The president and head of this society, Mr. Thomas 
 Walker, raised to that bad eminence by a species of merit 
 which will not meet with much favour or encouragement 
 here, opened his doors to receive a society of this sort at 
 Manchester, miscalled the Reformation Society: the name 
 may, in some senses indeed, import and be understood to 
 mean a society formed for the purpose of beneficial reform ; 
 but what the real purposes of this society were you will 
 presently learn, from their declared sentiments and criminal 
 actings. He opened his doors, then, to receive this society ; 
 they assembled, night after night, in numbers, to an amount 
 
 which you will hear from the witnesses; sometimes, I 
 
56 _ Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 believe, the extended number of such assemblies amounting 
 to more than a hundred persons. There were three con- 
 siderable rooms allotted for their reception. In the lower 
 part of the house, where they were first admitted, they sat 
 upon business of less moment, and requiring the presence 
 of smaller numbers; in the upper part, they assembled in 
 greater multitudes, and read, as in a school, and as it were 
 to fashion and perfect themselves in everything that is 
 seditious and mischievous, those writings which have been 
 already reprobated by other juries sitting in this and other 
 places, by the courts of law, and, in effect, by the united 
 voice of both Houses of Parliament. They read, amongst 
 other works, particularly the works of an author whose 
 name is in the mouth of everybody in this country ; I mean 
 the works of Thomas Paine; an author, who, in the gloom 
 of a French prison, is now contemplating the full effects 
 and experiencing all the miseries of that disorganising 
 system of which he is, in some respects, the parent— 
 certainly, the great advocate and promoter.” 
 
 Mr. Law went on to argue from the reading of Paine, 
 and the conversations that would naturally flow from such 
 mischievous employment, that the society drilled its 
 members to assist the French, should they land, by force 
 of arms. All this was based on the evidence of Dunn, 
 given after the Rev. Justice Griffith had ‘‘out with a 
 
 decanter of strong Hollands gin” and “made the dog 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. — 57 
 
 drunk ;” and after he had been soaked in spirits by the 
 taskmaster of the New Bailey. Mr. Law knew that his 
 chief witness was a man whose character would not bear 
 the light; and he anticipated the line of defence by 
 insinuating that the defendants had tampered with him. 
 He endeavoured also to weaken the effect of Mr. Erskine’s 
 persuasive eloquence, by warning the jury against entangle- 
 ment in the wiles of the famous advocate. “I have long,” 
 said artful Mr. Law, “felt and admired the powerful effect 
 _ of his various talents. I know the ingenious sophistry by 
 which he can mislead, and the fascination of that eloquence 
 ay which he can subdue the minds of those to whom he 
 addresses himself. I know what he can do to-day, by 
 seeing what he has done upon many other occasions before. 
 But, at the same time, gentlemen, knowing what he is, I 
 am somewhat consoled in knowing you.” 
 
 Dunn, in the witness-box, was by far too good a witness. 
 He remembered everything that took place at the meetings 
 of the Reformation Society at Mr. Walker’s house; that 
 the members were regularly drilled ; that there were rejoic- 
 ings at the death of the French king, and the general 
 expression of a desire that-Capet’s fate might be that of all 
 kings; that Mr. Walker said King George had seventeen 
 millions of money in the Bank of Vienna, and that he 
 would not give one penny to serve the poor—‘“‘damn him 
 
 and all kings ;’” that the number of the French who were 
 
58 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 to land was estimated at fifty thousand; and that the 
 members of the society generally, entered Mr. Walker’s 
 premises by the back door. But when taken in hand by 
 Mr. Erskine, the perjured informer broke down completely. 
 He was insolent, audacious, defiant at times, as when, in 
 answer to the inquiry who paid for his drink in prison, 
 he said nobody—adding ‘No, upon my oath; that is 
 plump.” He contradicted himself at every turn. Having 
 swom “plump” that nobody gave him a drop of drink, 
 he admitted a few minutes afterwards that he got a glass 
 of shrub from Mr. Griffith. He denied that he had ever 
 been on his knees to Mr. Walker begging his forgiveness 
 for the wrong he had done him, in bearing false witness 
 against him. An almost uninterrupted tissue of falsehoods 
 fell from the lips of this poor wretch, who could neither 
 read nor write, who had been a-weaver by trade, and then 
 a discharged soldier; and who, even in the midst of his 
 infamous work, was moved by qualms of conscience to wish 
 that death might end his career. Yet on his evidence, 
 and some immaterial testimony from the constable who 
 watched Mr. Walker’s house, the case for the Crown 
 entirely rested. 
 
 Mr. Erskine opened the defence with a most solemn 
 exordium :— 
 
 “T listened with the greatest attention (and in honour 
 
 of my learned friend I must say with the greatest approba- 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 59 
 
 tion) to much of his address to you in the opening of this 
 cause; it was candid and manly, and contained many 
 truths which I have no interest to deny; one in particular, 
 which involves in it indeed the very principle of the 
 defence—the value of that happy constitution of govern- 
 ment which has so long existed in this island: I hope in 
 God that none of us will ever forget the gratitude which 
 we owe to the Divine Providence, and, under its blessing, 
 to the wisdom of our forefathers, for the happy establish- 
 ment of law and justice under which we live; and under 
 which, thank God, my clients are this day to be judged: 
 great indeed will be the condemnation of any man who 
 does not feel and act as he ought to do upon this subject ; 
 for surely if there be one privilege greater than another 
 which the benevolent Author of our being has been 
 pleased to dispense to His creatures since the existence 
 of the earth which we inhabit, it is to have cast our lots in 
 such a country and in such an age as that in which we 
 live: for myself, I would in spirit prostrate myself daily 
 and hourly before Heaven to acknowledge it, and instead 
 of coming from the house of Mr. Walker, and accompany- 
 ing him at Preston (the only truths which the witness has 
 uttered since he came into Court), if I believed him capable 
 of committing the crimes he is charged with, I would rather 
 have gone into my grave than have been found as a friend 
 
 under, his roof.” 
 
60 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 Pointing to the prisoners, Mr. Erskine observed that at 
 the head of them ‘stands before you a merchant of 
 honour, property, character, and respect; who has long 
 enjoyed the countenance and friendship of many of the 
 worthiest and most illustrious persons in the kingdom, 
 and whose principles and conduct have more than once 
 been publicly and gratefully acknowledged by the com- 
 munity of which he is a member, for standing forth the 
 friend of their commerce and liberties, and the protector of 
 the most essential privileges which Englishmen can enjoy 
 
 under the laws.” 
 
 Mr. Erskine then went on to describe the actual con- 
 dition of public affairs ; and held that in such times especi- 
 ally ‘“‘such a prosecution against such a person” ought to 
 have had a strong foundation. The Sovereign had said 
 from the Throne that the French Republicans were medi- 
 tating an invasion of England; and the people were astir 
 from one end of the kingdom to the other to repel it. 
 Mr. Erskine asked :—“ In such a state of things, and when 
 the public transactions of Government and justice in the 
 two countries pass and repass from one another as if upon 
 the wings of the wind, is it a politic thing to prepare this 
 solemn array of justice upon such 2 dangerous subject 
 without a reasonable foundation, or rather without an 
 urgent call, and at a time too when it is our common 
 
 interest that France should believe us to be what we are 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 6 
 
 and ever have been, one heart and soul to protect our 
 country and our Constitution? Is it wise or prudent, put- 
 ting private justice wholly out of the question, that it 
 should appear to the councils of France, apt enough to 
 exaggerate advantages, that the judge. representing the 
 Government in the northern district of this kingdom should 
 be sitting here in judgment in the presence of all the 
 gentlemen whose property lies in the county, assembled, I 
 observe, upon the occasion, and very properly, to witness 
 SO very interesting a process, to trace and to punish the 
 existence of a rebellious conspiracy to support an invasion 
 from France P” 
 
 Mr. Erskine dwelt on the inevitable effect of the trial, 
 observing that the rumours and effect of it would spread 
 where the evidence might not travel to act as an antidote 
 to the Paeehicl: “Good God!” the advocate exclaimed, 
 “can it be for the interest of Government that such a 
 state of this country should go forth ?—and this on the un- 
 supported testimony of a common soldier, or rather a com- 
 mon vagabond discharged as unfit to be a soldier; a 
 wretch, lost to every sense of God and religion, who avows 
 that he has none for either, and who is incapable of 
 observing even common decency as a witness in the 
 court.” He then described the foundation, object, and 
 aims of the Constitutional Society and the Reformation 
 
 Society— bodies of Liberals and Dissenters who advocated 
 
62 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 the reform of Parliament, and the removal of religious 
 disabilities, in an orderly manner, and that met at Mr. 
 Walker’s house only after the publicans, through the wan- 
 ton pressure of the Church and King men, had driven 
 them from every place of public meeting in the town. 
 
 “Gentlemen,” Mr. Erskine resumed, “ this is the genuine 
 history of the business, and it must therefore not a little 
 surprise you that when the charge is wholly confined to the 
 use of arms, Mr. Law should not even have hinted to you 
 that Mr. Walker’s house had been attacked, and that he 
 was driven to stand upon his defence ; as if such a thing 
 had never had an existence; indeed, the armoury which 
 must have been exhibited in such a statement would have 
 but ill suited the indictment or the evidence, and I must 
 therefore undertake the description of it myself. 
 
 “The arms having been locked up as I told you (after 
 the memorable attack upon Mr. Walker’s house) in the 
 bedchamber, I was shown last week into this house of 
 conspiracy, treason, and death, and saw exposed to view 
 the mighty armoury which was to level the beautiful fabrick 
 of our constitution, and to destroy the lives and proper- 
 ties of seven millions of people; it consisted first of six 
 little swivels purchased two years ago at the sale of 
 Livesey, Hargrave, and Co. (of whom we have all heard 
 so much) by Mr. Jackson, a gentleman of Manchester, who 
 
 is also one of the defendants, and who gave them to 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 63 
 
 Master Walker, a boy about ten years of age; swivels, 
 you know, are guns so called because they turn upon a 
 pivot, but these were taken. cff their props, were painted, 
 and put upon blocks resembling carriages of heavy cannon, 
 and in that shape may be fairly called children’s toys ; you 
 frequently see them in the neighbourhood of London adorn- 
 ing the houses of sober citizens, who, strangers to Mr. 
 Brown and his improvements, and preferring grandeur to 
 taste, place them upon their ramparts at Mile End or Isling- 
 ton: having been, like Mr. Dunn (I hope I resemble him 
 in nothing else), having like him served His Majesty as a 
 soldier (and I am ready to serve again if my country’s 
 safety should require it), I took a closer review of all I saw, 
 and observing that the muzzle of one of them was broke 
 off, I was curious to know how far this famous conspiracy 
 had proceeded and whether they had come into action, 
 when I found the accident had happened on firing a few 
 de joie upon His Majesty’s happy recovery, and that they 
 had been afterwards fired upon the Prince of Wales’s birth- 
 day. These are the only times that in the hands of these 
 conspirators these cannon, big with destruction, had opened 
 their little mouths: once to commemorate the indulgent 
 and benign favour of Providence in the recovery of the 
 Sovereign, and once as a congratulation to the Heir 
 Apparent of his Crown on the anniversary of his birth. 
 
 ‘“‘T went next, under the direction of the master general 
 
 Tee Ce eee or, 
 = ma te 
 
( 
 
 64 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 of this ordnance (Mr. Walker’s chambermaid), to visit the 
 
 rest of this formidable array of death, and found next a 
 
 little musketoon about so high [describing if], I put my 
 
 thumb upon it, when out started a little bayonet, like the 
 
 Jack-in-the-box which we buy for children at a fair, In 
 
 short, not to weary you, gentlemen, there was just such a 
 parcel of arms of different sorts and sizes as a man collect- 
 ing among his friends for his defence against the sudden 
 violence of a riotous multitude might be expected to have 
 collected ; here lay three or four rusty guns of different 
 dimensions, and here and there a bayonet or a broadsword 
 covered with dust so as to be almost undistinguishable ; 
 for notwithstanding what this infamous wretch has sworn, 
 we will prove by witness after witness, till you desire us to 
 finish, that they were principally collected on the 11th of 
 December, the day of the riot, and that from the 12th in 
 the evening, or the 13th in the morning, they have been 
 
 untouched as I have described them.” 
 
 Mr. Erskine referred to the ‘unnamed prosecutors,” 
 and added that he was afraid to slander any man or body 
 of men by even a guess upon the subject; and talked’ of 
 the time when the “unnamed” ones were beating about. for 
 evidence, keeping Mr. Dunn, the while, “walking like a 
 tame sparrow through the New Bailey, fed at the public 
 or some other expense, and suffered to go at large, though 
 
 arrested upon a criminal charge and sent into custody 
 
 5 
 } 
 
ae 
 
 Trial for Conspiracy. 65 
 
 } 
 
 under it.” If men were to be tried on such evidence as 
 that of Dunn, who was safe? Mr. Erskine declared that | 
 he had no occasion to feel himself safer than his clients. 
 “1,” he said, ‘am equally an object of suspicion as Mr. 
 Walker : it is said of Aim that he has been a member of 
 a society for the reform of Parliament; so have /, and so 
 am Jat this moment, and so at all hazards I will continue 
 to be ; and I will tell you why, gentlemen: because I hold 
 it to be essential to the preservation of all the ranks and 
 orders of the State, alike essential to the prince and to the 
 people. I have the honour to be allied to His Majesty in 
 blood, and my family has been for centuries a part of what 
 is now called the aristocracy of the country. I can there- 
 fore have no interest in the destruction of the constitution.” 
 
 The advocate concluded with the following powerful 
 appeal :— 
 
 “Upon the whole, then, I cannot help hoping that my 
 friend the Attorney-General, when he shall hear my proofs, 
 will feel that a prosecution like this ought not to be offered 
 for the seal and sanction of your verdict. Unjust 
 prosecutions lead to the ruin of all Governments ; for 
 whoever will look back to the history of the world in 
 general, and of our own particular country, will be con- 
 vinced that exactly in proportion as prosecutions have 
 been cruel and oppressive, and maintained by inadequate 
 
 and unrighteous evidence, in the same proportion and by 
 VoL. I. F 
 
 og ie Tite! a” Pe ae: okt, os O.% a ‘ 
 SAT Ge ie es, paungen Hi 4 
 
66 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 the same means their authors have been destroyed instead 
 of being supported by them. As often as the principles of 
 our ancient laws have been departed from in weak and 
 wicked times, as often the Governments that have violated 
 them have been suddenly crumbled into dust; and, 
 therefore, wishing, as I most sincerely do, the preservation 
 and prosperity of our happy constitution, I desire to enter 
 my protest against its being supported by means that are 
 likely to destroy it. Violent proceedings bring on the 
 bitterness of retaliation, until all justice and moderation are 
 trampled down and subverted. Witness those sanguinary 
 prosecutions previous to the awful period in the last century, 
 when Charles the First fell. That unfortunate prince lived 
 to lament those vindictive judgments by which his impolitic, 
 infatuated followers imagined they were supporting the 
 throne; he lived to see how they destroyed it. His throne, 
 undermined by violence, sank under him, and those who 
 shook it were guilty in their turn. Such is the natural order 
 of injustice, not of similar but of worse and more violent 
 wrongs ; witness the fate of the unhappy Earl of Strafford, 
 who, when he could not be reached by the ordinary laws, 
 was impeached in the House of Commons, and who, when 
 still beyond the consequences of that judicial proceeding, 
 was at last destroyed by the arbitrary, wicked mandate of 
 the Legislature. James the Second lived to ask assistance 
 
 in the hour of his own distress from those whom he had 
 
Trial for C onspiracy. 67 
 
 cut off from the means of giving it ; he lived to ask support 
 from the Earl of Bedford, after his son, the unfortunate Lord 
 Russell, had fallen under the axe of injustice. ‘I once 
 had a son,’ said that noble person, ‘ who could have served 
 your Majesty upon this occasion ;’ but there was then none 
 to assist him. 
 
 “T cannot possibly tell how others feel upon these 
 subjects, but I do know how it is their interest to feel 
 concerning them. We ought to be persuaded that the 
 only way by which Government can be honourably or 
 safely supported is by cultivating the love and affection of 
 the people ; by showing them the value of the constitution 
 by its protection; by making them understand its principles 
 by the practical benefits derived from them; and above 
 all, by letting them feel their security in the administration 
 of law and justice. What is it in the present state of that 
 unhappy kingdom, the contagion of which fills us with 
 such alarm, that is the just object of terror? What, but 
 that accusation and conviction are the same, and that a 
 false witness or power without evidence is a warrant for 
 death? Not-so here ; long may the countries differ! and I 
 am asking nothing more than that you should decide 
 according to our own wholesome rules, by which our 
 Government was established, and by which it has been 
 ever protected. 
 
 *¢ Put yourselves, gentlemen, in the place of the defend- 
 
 F 2 
 
 S ee i a 
 
68 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 ants, and let me ask if you were brought before your 
 country upon a charge supported by no other evidence than 
 that which you have heard to-day, and encountered by that 
 which I have stated to you, what would you say, or your 
 children after you, if you were touched in your persons or 
 your properties by a conviction? May you never be put to 
 such reflections nor the country to such disgrace! The best 
 service we can render to the public is that we should live 
 like one harmonious family, that we should banish all. 
 animosities, jealousies, and suspicions of one another, and 
 that living under the protection of a mild and impartial 
 justice, we should endeavour, with one heart, according 
 to our best judgments, to advance the freedom and main- 
 tain the security of Great Britain.” 
 
 The evidence for the defence proved over and over 
 again that Dunn had perjured himself; and when at length 
 he was recalled to confront the testimony against him he 
 was so drunk (having passed the interim at a public-house) 
 that his evidence was almost unintelligible. It had been 
 proved on irrefragable testimony that in a moment of 
 contrition he had sought Mr. Walker out and had fallen on 
 his knees, imploring his forgiveness for having sworn falsely 
 against him; but this he denied at first, then blurted out “1 
 went there when I was intoxicated, the same as I am now.” 
 Afterwards he denied the truth of all the evidence of 
 
 Mr, Walker's friends, clerks, and servants, and was stopped 
 
Trial for Conspiracy. 69 
 
 at length by the Attorney-General for the County Palatine, 
 who, albeit for the prosecution, testified himself to the 
 honour of one of the witnesses whom Dunn marked as a 
 perjurer. Mr. Law stopped the case, observing —“ I cannot 
 expect one witness alone, unconfirmed, to stand against the 
 testimony of these witnesses; I ought not to expect it.” 
 The judge having commended the course adopted by the 
 prosecution, the jury immediately acquitted the defendants. 
 Mr. Erskine and Mr. Vaughan applied that Dunn might 
 be committed, and they undertook to indict him for perjury. 
 
 Mr. Justice Heath: “Let him be committed; and I 
 hope, Mr. Walker, that ie will be an admonition to you 
 to keep better company in future.” 
 
 Mr. Walker: “I have been in no bad company, my 
 lord, except in that of the wretch who stands behind me; 
 nor is there a word or an action of my life, in which the 
 public are at all interested, that I wish unsaid, or undone, 
 or that under similar circumstances I would not repeat.” 
 
 Mr. Justice Heath: ‘“‘ You have been honourably acquit- 
 ted, sir, and the witness against you is committed for 
 perjury.” 
 
 James Cheetham was waiting his trial “for damning 
 the King and wishing he was guillotined,” on Dunn’s 
 evidence; but, the record says, the witness having been 
 committed for perjury, a verdict of not guilty was given 
 
 at once. 
 
70 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 Dunn was afterwards tried and convicted of ten several 
 perjuries ; and this wretched tool of the Government was 
 sentenced to two years’ imprisonment, and to stand in 
 the pillory. “Tt must not be omitted”—I quote Hone’s 
 biography of Mr. Walker—‘“ that the strongest suspicions 
 of direct subornation of perjury were attached to some of 
 the most active supporters of Government in this town 
 (Manchester) ; and it was only by the timely repentance 
 of one of their hired informers that Mr. Walker and his 
 friends, innocent as they were of every offence whatever, 
 escaped a charge of high treason. But the malice of 
 his enemies was not satiated; the most deliberate attacks 
 were made on his character and credit; and at length 
 partly from these causes, and partly from the events of 
 the war, his fortune sank at the conclusion of a seven 
 years’ struggle.” 
 
 From this period of persistent and cowardly persecution, 
 in which the agents of Mr. Pitt were actively concerned, 
 Mr. Walker was a victim to growing difficulties—albeit 
 encompassed with crowds of friends, including the fore- 
 most Liberal men of his time. 
 
 “The law,” Mr. Walker observes’ in his “ Political 
 Events” (it has been frequently said in charges to grand 
 juries, and it is a favourite sentiment) “is alike open to 
 the poor as to the rich;” “and so” (said Mr. Horne 
 
 Tooke on some occasion) “is the London Tavern; but 
 
~ 
 
 Trial for Conspiracy. | ee: 
 
 they will give you a very sorry welcome unless you come 
 with money sufficient to pay for your entertainment.” 
 
 “I have no scruple to say, from dear-bought experience, 
 that there is no law in this country for the poor man. 
 The expense of attorneys, and the expense of counsel, 
 and the expense of witnesses, and the expense of stamps 
 to the Government, and fees to the law officers, the 
 
 expense of time, and of trouble, the neglect of business, 
 
 and the anxiety of mind, are beyond calculation to those 
 
 who have not had melancholy experience of the fact. 
 Neither is there certainty of justice even to those who 
 are able and willing to afford the expense of a prosecu- 
 tion, if the minds of jurors can be warped on the day of 
 trial from all impartial considerations, by incessant false- 
 hood and invective, from pulpits and printing houses, 
 and parish associations. I have a right to complain of 
 the expense of law when I can inform the reader, with 
 truth, that the expenses of the trial, to which this is a 
 sequel, including the prosecution of Dunn, amounted to 
 nearly three thousand pounds. 
 
 “T have a right to complain of the uncertainty of jus- 
 tice, after the trial of Benjamin Booth (who had been 
 implored ‘for God’s sake and his family to join in Dunn’s 
 evidence against Mr. Walker’) at Manchester; after having 
 perused the trial of Mr. Winterbotham ; after having seen 
 
 the verdicts of a Warwickshire jury, and compared the 
 
TON. Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 compensations with the losses of the Birmingham sufferers. 
 I know not in what tone of voice, nor with what cast of — 
 countenance, Mr. Windham pronounced that ‘the law was 
 equally open in all cases,’* but it was a cruel and malignant 
 sarcasm ; and Mr. Windham could not but know that it 
 was untrue when he uttered it. The law is indeed open 
 to those who have the key of the Treasury to unlock it 
 —it was open even to Thomas Dunn of infamous notoriety. 
 Perhaps it would be also open to Mr. Windham—from 
 the tender mercies of whose recommendation heaven 
 
 defend the injured poor !” 
 
 * Speech in the House of Commons (December 17, 1792) in reply 
 to Mr. Fox and Mr. Grey on the riots at Manchester. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE REFORMERS OF 1794. 
 
 Six days after his acquittal, Mr. C. J. Fox wrote to 
 Mr. Walker :—“ My dear Sir,—I do assure you that I 
 have seldom felt more true satisfaction than I received 
 from Heywood’s letter from Lancaster giving me the 
 account of your complete triumph there. Your satisfac- 
 tion ought to be (and I hope is) proportionate to the 
 malignancy with which you have been persecuted ; and if 
 it is you must be a very happy man. I beg you accept 
 my sincere congratulations, and to believe me, dear Sir, 
 
 your most faithful, humble servant, 
 i Ka oe BOX. 
 
 On the 23rd of May Mr. Erskine wrote to his friend 
 and client, of the prosecutions that were then rife—‘ But 
 all redress is visionary. If honest men can defend them- 
 selves they are well off, without seeking to punish others. 
 Your friends here are much disappointed at not seeing 
 your trial published, and there are catchpenny things 
 circulated to pass for it. It certainly throws great light 
 upon the businesses which agitate the public at this mo- 
 ment, and its appearance now would be useful.” 
 
 Congratulations flowed in from all sides. Earl Stanhope 
 
74. Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 wrote from Mansfield Street (April 7, 1794) :—‘‘I return - 
 you many thanks for your obliging letter of the 12th of 
 March, and for the list of Toasts therein enclosed, drunk 
 at the Church and King Club.. I beg to congratulate 
 you most cordially and sincerely on your late acquittal ; 
 as also the other gentlemen indicted at the same time; 
 being with zeal and Respect, Sir, your faithful fellow- 
 citizen, STANHOPE.” There is an endorsement on Lord 
 Stanhope’s note :— } 
 
 ‘“Many years afterwards this republican peer had his 
 portrait taken with a coronet in his hand !—such is the 
 influence of circumstances.” 
 
 His lordship in citizen days addressed Mr. Walker as 
 Wear citizen. 
 
 Gilbert Wakefield wrote from Hackney to congratulate 
 the distinguished Jacobin on “‘the defeat of his despicable 
 - adversaries.” The letter is dated July 2sjoa704seueen te 
 Walker,” says the writer, ‘will rejoice with him on the 
 glorious prospect of a speedy crisis to the abominable 
 perversions of civil society; in the subversion of which 
 Mr. W. glories to have co-operated with Mr. Walker, tho’ 
 as a less vigorous and conspicuous agent.” 
 
 Passing through Bury St. Edmunds, four days after the 
 trial, on his way to London, Clarkson happened to fall 
 in with the Courier, which gave him the news of his 
 
 friend’s honourable acquittal; and he wrote at once to 
 
The Reformers of 1794. ie 
 
 say that he anticipated it, was overjoyed at it, and con- 
 gratulated both Mr, and Mrs. Walker. His trusty friend 
 Cooper (the ardent advocate of liberty and the vigorous 
 pamphleteer) wrote from London that he had heard of 
 the acquittal from a friend who had been in company 
 with Lord Derby. His lordship abused the Ministry 
 violently about the trial, and reprobated the conduct of 
 the prosecutors severely. Lord Derby also said, ‘The 
 Duke of Bedford is the honestest man publicly and pri- 
 vately in the kingdom.” 
 
 The trial created a great sensation in London. On the 
 26th of April Mr. Erskine wrote to Mr. Walker pressing 
 him for proofs of the shorthand notes. “I take it for 
 granted you will publish it at Manchester, and I am sure 
 it will be of infinite service to the cause of reform, and 
 bring Government into ‘great disgrace.” Mr. Erskine adds 
 that he shall meet Fox, Sheridan, and Grey, on the fol- 
 lowing Monday, “when I mean to have some talk with 
 - them on that subject.” 
 
 The subject was in the mouths of all political men. 
 After the war, the continuance of which, with vigour, had 
 just been determined upon in Parliament—in spite of the 
 
 exertions of the Duke of Bedford, Lords Lansdowne and 
 
 Lauderdale, and Fox and Sheridan; internal discontent, ° 
 
 and the agitation to which it was giving ominous forms 
 
 throughout the land, were the subject of debate in every 
 
76 Thomas Walker the Elder. | 
 
 society. The conviction of two Scotch agitators—Muir 
 and Palmer—for spreading Paine’s “ Rights of Man,” 
 and other tracts on cognate subjects distasteful to the 
 Government, and for exhorting the people to resist the 
 oppression under which they lived; had created a pro-- 
 found sensation. The Scotch judges had sentenced the 
 agitators to fourteen years’ transportation. Muir and 
 Palmer were men of education and unblemished cha- 
 racter, and their fate wakened the sympathies even of 
 friends of the Ministry. The popular feeling was deepened 
 and extended when the Scotch judges, a few months after 
 they had doomed Muir and Palmer to Botany Bay, sen- 
 tenced a batch of Scotch and English delegates of a 
 convention held at Edinburgh to promote sweeping Par- 
 liamentary Reforms, to a similar fate. In vain did 
 
 Mr. Adam, a barrister of high repute and a member of 
 
 Parliament, endeavour to modify the law, and to obtain 
 mercy for the convicts, then on board transports at Wool- 
 wich; in vain he pleaded—and with rare learning and 
 perspicacity — that they had been illegally sentenced. 
 Sheridan and Fox were the eloquent advocates of mercy, 
 in opposition to Pitt, the Lord Advocate, and Mr. 
 Secretary Dundas, who found that the actual system was 
 agreeable to the people at large. Dundas was, indeed, 
 of opinion that the law was not sufficiently severe. This 
 
 remark drew upon him the wrath of Fox, who cautioned 
 
The Reformers of 794. a 
 
 Government against the risks and perils of an interference 
 with the liberties of Englishmen. 
 
 But the friends of civil and religious liberty had small 
 favour in those times, when the upper classes were labouring 
 under fears raised by the French Revolution. The man 
 who advocated Parliamentary Reform was a dangerous mal- 
 content—a Jacobin—an enemy to be rooted or driven out. 
 It was in these days that crowds of disappointed English 
 politicians, like Thomas Cooper—and later Mr. Walker’s 
 youngest son, George Henry—emigrated to America; and 
 that hundreds who could not emancipate themselves from 
 the rigours of the time, dreamed of the liberty of Washing- 
 ton—and longed to be quit of the mother country. Three 
 years after the trial Mr. Erskine wrote to Mr. Walker 
 (April 6th, 1797) that everything was hopeless. “The 
 Minister has acquired a holding which will enable him to 
 pull the country to pieces, and we must all fall together. 
 You see meetings are holding everywhere, and undoubtedly 
 they are of value. If Manchester is ripe for it I hope 
 you will succeed in getting one.” Mr. Walker, much as 
 he had suffered, in mind and in purse—and then, appa- 
 rently, to no purpose—was as ready as ever in the good 
 cause ; and as active a correspondent and subscriber as 
 ever in all good movements. 
 
 Much of the Walker correspondence is interesting, as 
 
 illustrating the feeling of the time and the profound effect 
 
78 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 which was created in England by the startling series of 
 events that succeeded the dethronement of Louis the Six- 
 ‘teenth. ‘The severities practised in England by the Church 
 and King party upon all who sympathised with the French 
 patriots were the cowardly cruelties of fear. The trial of 
 Mr. Walker, on evidence bought by a clergyman from a 
 drunken weaver, is a fair sample of the manner in which 
 Church and King men proceeded in all directions against 
 the societies and clubs that had spread throughout the 
 empire—with: Hardy’s London club for organising centre. 
 The demand of these clubs was for radical reform. Their 
 sedition was no more than that extent of liberalism which 
 has since led the way to peerages. But the popular 
 leaders of those days were before their time. The prose- 
 cution of Mr. Joyce, a tutor in Lord Stanhope’s family, of 
 Horne Tooke, of Mr. Kydd, a rising barrister, was on the 
 pattern of that by which Mr. Walker had suffered. Mr. 
 Fox and Mr. Grey raised their voices in vain against Mr. 
 Pitt’s wholesale severities ; and protested, unregarded, that 
 Ministers were inaugurating a Reign of Terror. The 
 societies against which penal laws were to be applied were 
 but associations for bringing about universal suffrage; a 
 convention was but a general meeting, or assembly, of 
 these thoroughly lawful associations. British Ministers 
 were doing exactly that which had ruined France. Had 
 
 the French enjoyed the liberties which were the right of 
 
The Reformers of 1794. = —-79 
 
 Englishmen, Louis’ head had never fallen on the Place 
 
 de la Concorde. Pitt, the sometime Reformer, had_be- 
 come Pitt the prosecutor, with the help of a hired host 
 of informers. He was attacking Horne Tooke for being 
 true to the principles which he himself had_ betrayed. 
 Parliament gave reason to Pitt and Windham and Burke— 
 -and turned a deaf ear upon Fox and Grey and Sheridan ; 
 voted wholesale war subsidies to. foreign princes; and, 
 with Burke, stigmatised imprisoned La Fayette as the 
 enemy of genuine liberty and an outcast of society. In 
 this spirit a series of State prosecutions was begun with 
 that of Mr. Walker.* In these prosecutions we find Messrs. 
 
 Erskine and Felix Vaughan defending the accused with 
 
 * As an introduction to the trials of the State prisoners in the 
 Tower, it would be necessary to mention a few others which took 
 place in different parts of the realm. At the spring assizes in Lan- 
 caster, Mr. Thomas Walker, of Manchester, who had opposed certain 
 measures of the Minister, and exerted himself strenuously as an 
 advocate of Parliamentary reform, was indicted for conspiring with 
 nine other persons to. overturn our constitution by force of arms, 
 and to assist the French in case of invasion, The principal evidence 
 was that of a spy named Dunn, afterwards convicted of wilful and 
 corrupt perjury ; and his testimony on this occasion was so contra- 
 dictory that the prisoner was honourably acquitted, without being put 
 on his defence. It appeared that a certain party in Manchester had 
 encouraged the miscreant to institute prosecutions against such 
 persons as were obnoxious to Government; so that through his 
 testimony Mr. Paul of that place was imprisoned nine weeks on a 
 charge of treason, and Mr. Booth condemned to two years’ imprison- 
 ment for speaking seditious words.—Hughes’ Continuation of lume 
 and Smollett. 
 
 ap tates 
 
80 “Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 that vigour and earnestness which had confounded Mr. — 
 Walker’s infamous enemies at Manchester, In the case 
 of Hardy, Erskine’s speech of six hours was a masterpiece 
 of eloquent exposition. The great advocate secured a 
 triumph against the enemies of freedom, the echoes of - 
 which lasted for many a day. The wit of Tooke was as 
 potent as the eloquence of Erskine, and together they 
 covered King and Parliament with shame and confusion. 
 Erskine pointed to the infamous threat under which he 
 had defended Paine; and then to the noble conduct of | 
 Tooke, who would not have his case separated from that 
 of his fellow-accused. ‘I could have made a defence,” 
 said Erskine, ‘‘ which would have kept his vessel out of 
 the storm ; I could have brought him safe into the harbour 
 of peace, while those men were left to ride out the tem- 
 pest; but he would not suffer his defence to be conducted 
 on that plan; and though he has nothing to do with the 
 conspiracy, he holds out a rope to save others; he charges 
 me to say—I will show the other men had no such guilt 
 belonging to them; and I rejoice in being the advocate 
 to do it.” 
 
 The end of these trials, and the general features of 
 them are well known, and to this day are well remembered 
 especially in those parts of England where the name of 
 Thomas Walker, the valiant Reformer and trusty friend 
 
 of every good public cause, is still held in honour. 
 
Pha Reformers of 1794. peta 
 
 > 
 
 By their light the extensive correspondence before me 
 gains almost an important historical interest ; and I pro- 
 pose to offer the reader passages from it, in which the 
 colour and spirit of the revolutionary time, as it affected 
 this country, are vividly seen. Perhaps ‘Thomas Cooper 
 was Mr. Walker's most energetic correspondent and col- 
 league, while the former remained in England. He writes 
 (Nov. 5, 1790) :— | 
 
 “My dear friend,—You know of course that the Con- 
 vention between us and Spain was to be signed on the 
 27th ult., and that the Lord Mayor has had official 
 intelligence of it. You were proposed and elected last 
 night steward of the Revolution Society for next year. I 
 have not yet got an. accurate list of your fellow labourers, 
 but you shall have one. Tuffin is among them. Lord 
 Stanhope and Lord William Russell had withdrawn their 
 names from the society most shabbily ; nay, contumeliously 
 as to the manner. Tooke moved that in future no peer 
 should be eligible in the society by his titular, but merely 
 by his family name, and that if peers would come in they 
 should come in as private persons, and the society not 
 be subject to be made the tool of the peerage, who 
 might want a little temporary popularity. I and Sharp 
 supported him—he was opposed by Rees and Toweis, 
 and that venal lawyer Serjt. Watson, and by Percy, the 
 editor of the Gazetteer, and by Garron, His superiority 
 
 ‘Vor, 1, G 
 
82 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 to his opponents, singly and jointly, in point, in argument, 
 in language, in temper, and in spirit, was evident and 
 indisputable—they felt it, the room felt it, and though 
 the motion was not put (on an objection of Price’s, who 
 was in the chair—the company then present were not 
 strictly the society, but consisting also of strangers and - 
 visitors also, and therefore not competent to decide any 
 question referred to the society itself), it was agitated 
 sufficiently to answer the purpose of it. The ignorant 
 lamented the interruption of the Aarmony of the evening. 
 I rejoice that a question so important, and which will 
 make the aristocrates feel that the people have neither 
 lost their sense nor their spirit, occupied the time of the 
 meeting instead of stupid songs, unmeaning toasts, and 
 drunken bumpers. How went you on in Manchester?” 
 
 That the Constitutional Societies were in direct com- 
 munication with the French Patriotic Clubs is shown in 
 Cooper’s correspondence. J. Watt, travelling with Cooper, 
 wrote from St. Omer (6th March, 1792):—‘‘As it was 
 some time ago agitated in the Constitutional Society, of 
 your plan to establish a correspondence with the French 
 Patriotic Clubs, Cooper and myself will be much obliged 
 to you if you will get the society to delegate us to the 
 Club des Jacobins, and to any other Patriotic Societies 
 which we may visit—for instance, those of Nantes and 
 
 Bordeaux. 
 
The Reformers OR EFOA. 83 
 
 “We look upon it that this will be an extremely good 
 introduction for us, and we have no doubt you will easily 
 effect it. Tuffin and Cooper intend writing to Sharp to 
 get them appointed as delegates from the Society for 
 Revolution at London. Upon our arrival at’ Paris we 
 shall immediately assume these characters, not doubting 
 that both you and Sharp will succeed in your applications. 
 “We have as yet ‘had no specimens of the riot and 
 confusion said to prevail in this country—everything bears 
 the face of order; but war is the general wish since the 
 late impertinent declaration of the Emperor. You shall 
 have all the news as soon as we can get to Paris.” 
 Cooper added a postscript: “The people of France 
 are certainly not an ézferior race to the English—I think 
 superior. I have as yet seen too little of the country to 
 offer an opinion. Procure us to wait in form on the 
 Jacobines, etc., from our Manr Society and speedily.” 
 Arrived in Paris, the delegates appear to have combined 
 business with patriotism. Cooper writes, (12th April, 
 "1792,) “Watt since he has been at ¢his hotel has been 
 very busy, I presume on yr account, for unless in the 
 evenings we have not been much together. He does not 
 seem perfectly satisfied with his success; but I really 
 don’t see how it is possible to do business here when 
 exchange is, as it is to-day, at 17%. If the answer of the 
 Emperor to the Minister Dumourier is categorical and 
 
 G2 
 
ee 
 
 84 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 peaceable, there will, of course, be an alteration in the 
 Change very much in favour of France. But I expect 
 the answer will-be evasive, and that the French will find 
 themselves awkwardly situated, for it will be extremely 
 imprudent, in my opinion, for them to attempt an inroad 
 in Austria. However, a few days will determine this. 
 Watt waits for this and for yt ans‘ to his last. 
 
 ‘Tell George Philips that exchange is 17# to-day, and 
 the premium on the Emprunte de 125 millions, 33. If 
 there is war no doubt I w4 advise to buy, for the national 
 property is fully equal to the exigence. I don’t know 
 whet George as well as you is connected for French 
 business with Perigaux, but this I can say, that on the 
 same day that I sold to Perigaux 60 louis for 36 fr. 
 12 sols each, I sold 30 to Delessart, at Watt’s persuasion, 
 for 38. So that I would have my friends not trust impli- 
 citly Mr. Perigaux. Louis are worth something more now. 
 * * * T shall return home with all my ideas confirmed 
 of the superiority of French climate and the improvement 
 of French people; but more an Englishman than ever.” 
 
 On the 25th of April the delegates had had personal 
 experience of the Jacobins. Cooper writes :— 
 
 “I wrote to George Philips my sentiments of the ee 
 bins from the impression of my first meeting. Subséquent ~ 
 meetings which I have attended have convinced me that 
 
 amidst all their noise’’and impetuosity and irregularity, 
 
~ 
 
 The Reformers OPALIOA. 7. 85 
 
 amidst all their long speeches and impatience of contrariety 
 
 of opinion, there is much important discussion, much 
 eloquence, much acuteness, and much effect. They are 
 the Governors of the Governors of the kingdom. They 
 keep a watchful eye on the men in place, they denounce 
 (impeach) them as Jacobins if their conduct is suspicious, 
 and the people are with them. They last night denounced 
 almost all the leading men now in power, among them 
 Condorcet, Claireie, and Brissot. These denunciations are 
 serious; for as Jacobins they must justify themselves or 
 become unpopular. I wish, therefore, that George Philips 
 w? not let my sentiments of the Jacobins to him get 
 among the Man Aristocrats. I have heard that Lee and 
 Brydges are well acquainted with the contents. A letter 
 on public men or public business to you or George sh¢ be 
 for the well-wishers of Liberty alone; tell George this, 
 also that exchange to-day, Wednesday, is 17%, and the 
 Emprunte of 125 millions (pretty nearly the same as our 
 Consol 3 p.c.) 42. Gold bears a high price. A guinea 
 is now worth in Assignats 44 livres. The best information 
 I can get assures me that French stock is safe, but pur- 
 chases of French land much better. The present race of 
 people are bad to what the next will be, evidently ; but yet 
 much better than they were a few years ago.” 
 
 Then follows a glowing description of the féte of Cha- 
 
 teauvieux, which Cooper extols as a meeting of 200,000 
 
86 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 sober, orderly, and at the same time enthusiastic citizens :— 
 ‘The first festival truly civic that Europe has seen.” 
 
 By August Cooper was back in London. He dates from 
 Thames Street, on the ath :— 
 
 ““The division on Fayette’s business in the Assembly 
 
 was 424 against 226. Watt wrote me that the people 
 were so exasperated that they were determined to do 
 something before Sunday. This I heard in a letter 
 received from Watt yesterday. To-day an express has 
 arrived at Thelusson’s containing the following intelligence 
 —viz., that on Friday the people rose; the Swiss guards 
 surrounded the King, and defended him till they were cut 
 to pieces; the King and Queen took refuge amid the 
 National Assembly, where they were when the express 
 came away. Six members of the Assembly were beheaded. 
 Such is the tale I hear, and although it is only in detached 
 particulars, you rely upon its being true or nearly so. ‘Te 
 Deum laudamus.’ * * * No body was permitted to go out 
 of or enter Paris. Lord Gower’s messenger was detained.” 
 
 In August, 1794, Thomas Cooper sailed for America, 
 
 where he became a judge in Pennsylvania. Felix Vaughan, — 
 
 Erskine’s enthusiastic junior in the State prosecutions, and 
 tbe devoted friend of Mr. Walker, did his utmost to dis- 
 suade Cooper from emigration. Writing to Cooper after 
 the conviction of Booth, he describes the applause of the 
 
 packed court at the hardest things in Topping’s speech. 
 
The Reflners of 1794. 87 
 
 “All this,” he says, ‘“has put me rather out of humour 
 with the pious manufacturers of Manchester; so I shall 
 leave them to the comfort of their own reflections to- 
 morrow for a place more healthy, and in hopes of meeting 
 people less detestable if possible. * * * I hope to be in 
 he week in much better temper and spirits before I see Our 
 worthy friend (Mr. Walker) at Lancaster (for the trial). 
 Pray make my best respects to him and tell him that his 
 townsmen are a pack of the damn’dest knaves, and fools, 
 and cowards, and scoundrels that I ever met with in all my 
 born days. * * * I conceive that in London the popular 
 opinion is every (way) changing for the better, and if good 
 men would not leave us, what might we not yet attempt 
 for the good people of England! As to the bad it signifies 
 little what becomes of them. In sober sadness cast in 
 your mind whether you cannot bear with us for a few years 
 more and help us to stem the torrent of folly. They cannot 
 refuse you coming to the bar as they did to our friend the 
 citizen of Wimbledon (Horne Tooke).” 
 
 But Cooper, like many others who had fought the losing 
 battle, went forth , and Felix Vaughan’s next letter of 
 gossip to him (28th January, 1796) is directed to America. 
 He touches upon their political friends :— 
 
 “Tn town Sharpe and Tuffin are very prudent, and I 
 believe meddle with nothing but their private pursuits. 
 
 Tooke digs in his garden till he is out of breath, by 
 
838 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 which he has certainly increased his health so as to live 
 many years longer; at least I hope so. His namesake 
 (old William) does the same, and very likely may live 
 
 the longest of the two. Harewood has taken a farm in 
 
 Norfolk, on which he lives with great content, being ready, © 
 
 as at all times he has been, to venture his life and all for 
 
 his friends or for the public. None of us are very rich, 
 
 and some very poor, democracy being, as you well know, 
 
 one of Pharaoh’s lean kine. From an odd combination 
 of things I consider myself as the most thriving, although 
 perhaps I am not the least obnoxious, of those who pro- 
 
 fess public principles. The lawyers in this country I 
 
 look upon as the janissaries of Turkey, being for some 
 
 reason or other more formidable in the eyes of Govern- 
 ment than other people. I can give no other reason for 
 having escaped their vengeance. In the way of my pro- 
 fession I have been very successful both in Yorkshire and 
 Lancashire ; for the latter I need not say I am indebted 
 to you and Walker. Were it not for the prospect which 
 this holds out to me of becoming useful at some future 
 period by means of the station a man may have gained 
 in society, I should have quitted this country before this 
 time, and have travelled upon the continent of Europe so 
 as to fill my mind with all the subjects which are requisite 
 
 to form a man of thorough education.* If the appearance 
 
 * Erskine observed of Felix Vaughan in a letter, dated April, 
 1794: ‘He has only to take care of his health to do everything.” 
 
The Ref mers of 1794. 89 
 
 of things after that had not mended, I would have sold 
 my little all here in England and have established myself 
 in America. As it is, I have hopes that the present system 
 must in time wear out itself, Should the war be continued 
 for very much greater length, its expense has already 
 increased every article of the necessaries of life so much 
 that at last there will be no living. Since you were here 
 many things are risen one-third in price at least; and 
 candles are 1s. per lb.; butter, 14d.; sugar of an ordi- 
 nary sort, 13d. House rent everywhere rising, and wheat 
 will probably be at the price it was last summer. In the 
 meantime the wages of the poor are not raised, but the 
 gentry are forced to supply them with corn in the great 
 scarcities at a low price, which, in fact, is but so much 
 additional tax, not avowed nor appearing openly. All of 
 them say what a shocking thing it would be to raise the 
 price of labour, because there would be no reducing it to 
 the old standard. None of them talk as if they thought 
 provisions would be cheaper. In short, they are in the 
 mass a most unworthy set, and I doubt not but the Lord 
 will reward them according to their works. 
 
 “In Manchester you perceive that Mr. Pitt’s last bills 
 have raised something like a spirit, if we may judge from 
 the petition with 17,000 signatures sent to Parliament. In 
 fact that petition came from the neighbourhood rather 
 than the town. During the meeting at which Lloyd pre- 
 
 sided, a parson and some others attempted to maxe a 
 
 e 
 
go Thomas Wi alker the E Ider. 
 
 “ 
 
 riot, and succeeded to a certain extent. Having good 
 
 evidence of this Seddon indicted them at the last Quarter | 
 Sessions, when the virtuous Grand Jury threw out the bill, 
 which I hope therefore will be preferred at Lancaster to - 
 try whether all the county feel in the same way. How 
 
 happy may the Americans think themselves without any — 
 
 of the influence of the executive government to destroy 
 them! In this country you smell it in every corner, all 
 
 opposition being so unsuccessful that people are indifferent 
 
 to what passes, almost wholly from that circumstance. 
 
 Money for public purposes there is absolutely none, as 
 you may judge of in some degree from the subscription 
 appearing in the newspapers after the acquittals of last 
 year. At present there is something of the same kind 
 going on for three poor men named Lemaitre, Smith, and 
 Higgins, who are indicted for what has been usually called 
 the Popgun Plot. I fear it goes on lamely. Erskine 
 and Gibbs have refused being concerned as counsel; but 
 I am in hopes the former will change his mind. In 
 justice to him it should be said that of all the Opposition 
 except Sheridan he is the stoutest; and the best principled 
 by far among the lawyers. 
 
 ““Since my writing the above Mr. Stone has been 
 acquitted, to the great mortification of a great many folks 
 who say that treason is now triumphant, etc. For my 
 own part I am heartily glad at it, because I fear the 
 
 first conviction may be followed up like the bead-roll of 
 
 é 
 Tat ond *: 
 Sg hl a + 
 
S07 
 aye 
 PANS 
 
 The Reformers of 1794. QI 
 
 murders in the last century. I do not know whether it was 
 
 a standing joke when you were last in England that it 
 was only in Ireland and Scotland that people were open 
 to eonvichon. 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Walker (16th May, 1795), Felix 
 Vaughan notes how matters are still proceeding with their 
 political friends :—‘“‘ As to-morrow is a great lounging day 
 with the Templars I prefer writing to you to-night, ie 
 especially as I have just come from the citizen’s” (pro- 
 bably Tooke’s), “with whom I dined to-day, this being 
 the Bh geiawy of his arrestation. You may easily imagine 
 we were somewhat jocular upon those gentry who are so 
 - ready to prosecute others for nothing, and would make 
 executions as plenty as their Cabinet dinners. However 
 they may have thought it possible for them to destroy us 
 they have not quite succeeded. Our subscription goes 
 on well, and if we could raise £1,000, or £1,500 more 
 we should have satisfied those concerned in the defences 
 compleatly. Geo. Philips gives us ten guineas, and 
 has very handsomely offered to continue the matter at 
 Manch’.” Mr. Walker and his friends were steady sup- 
 porters of Felix Vaughan in his young days at the bar, 
 when, as he expresses it, so few advocates could gain 
 powder to their wigs or salt to their porridge; and his 
 
 letters are full of hearty acknowledgments, But by his 
 will he best showed his gratitude. 
 
CHAPTER: V1. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH WEDGWOOD. 
 
 Ir was in 1785 that Mr. Pitt submitted to Parliament an 
 outline of his unfortunate plan “ for finally adjusting com- 
 mercial intercourse between the two kingdoms; admitting 
 Ireland to an irrevocable participation in the commercial 
 advantages of England; and securing, in return, a per- 
 manent aid from that country, in protecting the commercial 
 interests of the empire.” On the 12th of May the Premier, 
 in an exhaustive speech, introduced his scheme, in the form 
 of twenty resolutions, to the House of Commons. ‘He 
 was opposed by Fox and Sheridan, representing English 
 manufacturers, who had declared the measure fatal to 
 English interests.* The light in which Josiah Wedgwood 
 looked upon Pitt’s measure may be inferred from the fol- 
 lowing note to Mr. Walker, written while the Bill, after 
 having passed the Commons, was under consideration in 
 the House of Lords :— 
 
 ‘‘Mr. Wedgwood presents his best compliments to Mr. 
 
 * Grattan described the measure in the Irish House of Commons 
 as: ‘*A covenant not to trade beyond the Cape of Good Hope and 
 the Straits of Magellan; a covenant not to take foreign plantation 
 produce, nor American produce, but as Great Britain shall permit ; 
 
 a covenant never to protect their own manufactures, never to guard 
 the primum of those manufactures.” 
 
oth, 
 
 ar eit 
 
 (a srreshoi with Wedgwood. 93 
 
 Walker and the triumphant corps—congratulates them on 
 _the many hours and days of festivity they have spent with 
 their friends, and is sorry to disturb it one moment about 
 business—but must just observe that nothing but petitions 
 can save us, and the tone of petitioning now is for wmzon, 
 expressing the affection we feel for our sister,—that we 
 wish to do everything to promote her welfare, etc., etc. ; 
 but are fully persuaded that the present resolutions, instead 
 of promoting that harmony and mutual goodwill which we 
 wish for, would tend rather to sow discord between the 
 two nations, and that nothing short of union in commerce, 
 policy, and legislation can answer the desired end. 
 
 ‘Great George Street, 
 
 “May 23, 1785.” 
 
 The next question on which the two enterprising manu- 
 facturers corresponded was Chambers of Commerce, the 
 value of which was clear to both. Mr. Wedgwood 
 writes :— 
 
 “Dear Sir,—I was much disappointed by the fall from 
 my horse, having promised myself much _ pleasure from our 
 intended interview at Buxton, otherwise I rec’ no harm at 
 all, and am much oblig’d by your kind enquiries. I hope 
 you are now in perfect good health and spirits, and the full 
 enjoyment of your friends in Manchester, and shall be 
 happy to hear that you are so, when you have a moment 
 
 to spare to tell so. 
 
wr 
 
 oa ia Walker the Elder. 
 
 ‘“‘T have just now been with Mr. Daintry of Leek. He 
 is fully sensible of the necessity of the General Chamber 
 in London being supported, and engages to form a p:o- 
 vincial chamber, if possible, in Leek and Macclesfield, but 
 they will ,wait the event of your meeting in Manchester, 
 and which I now expect to hear a good account of every 
 day. 
 
 “You would easily perceive why I wished a short his- 
 tory of the General Chamber to be given at your meeting, 
 and of consequence to appeal in the public papers. Such 
 a history is very much wanted to set people right upon that 
 subject. I know it would do a great deal of good, and 
 am therefore anxious for your introducing such a thing in 
 some way or other. 
 
 “You have no doubt heard of the prohibition of our 
 manufactures in the Venetian States ; what will they leave 
 us soon? I beg my respectfull compts. to Mrs. Walker, 
 and your good brother, and all our friends, and am, 
 
 “ Dear Sir, | 
 ‘* Most sincerely yours, 
 
 “Jos. WEDGwoop. 
 “Etruria, 17 Nov., 1785.” 
 
 The correspondence between Thomas Walker and Josiah 
 Wedgwood, as indeed between the Manchester merchant 
 
 and many other English merchants, betrays the unsettied 
 
ioe 
 
 a Comvespontte with Wedgwood. 95 
 
 a 
 
 state of the commercial mind in those days; and how 
 manufacturers lived in perpetual fear of rivalry. Wedg- 
 wood hastens to forward the following scrap of intelli- 
 
 gence es 
 “Etruria, Jan. 7, 1786. 
 
 “ Dear Sir,—I wrote a line to you yesterday, and trouble 
 you with another to-day, just to convey to you the following 
 piece of information which I have since received. It may 
 be of no moment to you, in which case you will burn the 
 
 letter, and believe me to be, 
 “Dear Sir, 
 “Yours faithfully, 
 
 “Jos. WEDGWOCD. 
 
 — “News I have none to tell you, for to say that the 
 French are exerting themselves as much as possible to 
 
 rival us in manufactures is no news to you. A Mr. Mills, 
 
 late of Manchester, now in France, has obtained great 
 
 privileges from the Government for establishing machines 
 for spinning cotton, which my informant says (and shexis 
 no bad judge) are the completest he knows, and have less 
 friction than any he has seen. My countrymen must there- 
 fore continue to exert themselves to keep our continental 
 neighbours at a due distance behind us in trade and manu- 
 factures, which they now begin to feel are the only means 
 
 of support that a country has to depend on with certainty.” 
 
 es oe 
 
96 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 A few days later he refers to a German edict, and advises 
 
 that the General Chamber should take action. . 
 
 “Etruria, Jan. 15, 17386. 
 
 “Dear Sir—I have received your favour of the rath 
 (written at the suggestion of Mr. Fox), enclosing copy of a 
 letter from Messrs. Romberg and Son, respecting a German 
 edict which I think would be a very proper thing for all 
 our manufacturers to be acquainted with, and therefore a 
 suitable thing to come from the General Chamber. If you 
 think so I hope you have sent it, or will send it on receipt 
 of this, to our secretary. To save you trouble, I will send 
 him a copy of the letter, but tell him not to publish it till 
 he hears from you—so you will be so good as to send him 
 a line by the next post. 
 
 ‘“‘The Birmingham resolutions struck me much in the 
 same manner as they did you. Mr. Hustler has written to 
 our secretary to say that the manufacturers of Yorkshire still 
 make use of the stale objection to the Chamber that it is a 
 mere party affair, and that we never applied at all to the 
 Minister or his friends, but only to Mr. Fox and his party, 
 and that if he could contradict these objections authorita- 
 tively, something might still be done. You well know they 
 might be contradicted, but by what mode might such an 
 authority be given to that contradiction as would ‘silence 
 
 the gainsayers? I have a great aversion to putting my 
 
& orrespondence with Wedgwood. 97 
 name to such things in i public prints, and I daresay 
 you and your brother would have the same feeling; other- 
 wise I could say with great truth, and produce vouchers too 
 for the truth of every syllable, that after being examined 
 before the Committee of Privy Council, I waited upon Mr. 
 Pitt in Downing Street. He was himself engaged, but I 
 had two meetings with his private secretary upon the Irish 
 business ; after which your. brother, Mr. Sylvester, and 
 myself waited upon Mr. Pitt as a deputation from the 
 General Chamber—that after this I had a meeting by 
 appointment in a committee room of the House of Com- 
 mons, with Mr. Pitt’s confidential friends, Mr. Wilberforce 
 being one of them—that I never once waited upon Mr. 
 Fox, nor ever once exchanged a single word with him 
 upon the subject. 
 
 ““T must conclude. Mr. Eden tells me he does not 
 leave England before the middle of next month, so I 
 shall wait your further determination about going to town. 
 
 Adieu. 
 “Yours sincerely, 
 
 “Jos. WEDGWOOD.” 
 
 Mr. Wedgwood was anxious, it would appear, to prove 
 that his opposition to Pitt’s Irish resolutions, which he 
 had been compelled to withdraw before the determined 
 hostility of the Irish House of Commons and the English 
 
 manufacturers, was entirely independent of party. The 
 Vor I: H 
 
\ 
 
 98 T; homas Walker the Elder. 
 
 = 
 
 excitement of the time is shown in a_ hurried letter, 
 signed Denis O’Bryen, dated from Llangollen, August 17, 
 and addressed to Mr. Walker :— 
 
 “Dear Sir,—I have tidings for you that will gladden 
 your heart. In my way from Dublin (whither I went last 
 week to see the fate of the propositions) I snatch a 
 moment from the expedition of my journey to let you 
 
 know that the Empire is rescued from this banefull project 
 
 of our precious Government. Mr. Orde, fairly beaten out. 
 
 of the field, notified to the House of Commons that the 
 
 scheme was abandoned—never to be revived again—on 
 Monday night. I congratulate yourself, your fellow citi- 
 
 zens, and the two kingdoms upon this signal victory over 
 
 the most iniquitous attempt ever made upon the tranquility, © 
 
 the happiness, and the property of two nations—and I 
 have the greatest satisfaction in assuring you that the Irish 
 people and the Insh Parliament entertain not any ideas 
 hostile to your manufactures, nor feel the least disposition 
 to alienate their interests or affections from this country. 
 In truth it was the King’s Government against the two 
 nations, and not Ireland against England. The whole 
 Irish nation is in a blaze of exultation upon this defeat. 
 You will, I think, rejoice no less in the event. 
 
 “Tet me recommend among your toasts that you 
 
 will drink Grattan and the 108 of last Friday. If ever 
 
 : 
 7 
 4 
 ; 
 ’ 
 
Correspondence with Wedgewood. 99 
 
 minority was virtuous they were so—for they resisted every 
 art of corruption, influence, and power, and the Minister 
 dared not to fight them a second time. The termination 
 of the business was at one o'clock on Tuesday morning, 
 and I sett off about 4 hours after. I write this at a 
 place called Langollen, in Denbyshire, while the chaise is 
 getting ready, and I shall drop it in Shrewsbury. If it 
 goes directly across the country you will have the intelli- 
 gence long before it reaches Government. They will not 
 have it before Friday night, for I left their messenger 
 30 miles behind me. Again and again I congratulate you. 
 “Yours very truly, 
 “D. O’BRYEN, 
 “Of Craven Street. 
 “Wednesday Evening, 17th August.” 
 
 At the end of 1786 Wedgwood and Walker and others 
 were in correspondence on the French treaty. Mr. Walker 
 in his letters said that Manchester busied itself with the 
 subject only in its relation to cotton manufactures ; ‘and 
 that opinion was almost universally in favour of it as 
 advantageous to the industry of the locality. Mr. Walker 
 himself was not so sanguine—basing his doubts on the 
 comparative cheapness of French labour, and on the duty 
 raised on the export of French cotton, which made it 2d. 
 
 per pound dearer to the Manchester than to the French 
 H 2 
 
100% Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 manufacturer. He argued that the treaty would give the 
 
 balance of trade to France—she having both raw material — 
 
 and manufactures to send to England, England having 
 
 only the latter to return to her. 
 
 “Reciprocity,” the Manchester manufacturer exclaims, 
 (Irish, I suppose, with ye advantage all upon one side) 
 is pretended to be ye basis of this Treaty; now I would 
 ask what reciprocity there is in ye Articles which permit 
 a French manufacturer to settle in this country, and thereby 
 afford him an opportunity to inspect, search, pry into, and 
 make himself complete master of our manufacturing skill, 
 and whether it is counterbalanced by an English farmer 
 having permission to make himself equally master of ye 
 culture of a vine, and ye other productions of a country, 
 which, when he returns, the nature of his own climate 
 absolutely prevents him from ever deriving any advantage 
 from his knowledge? Is not this part of ye reciprocity 
 of ye 4th and 5th Articles? 
 
 “With respect to what duties there are in France upon 
 their manufactures, or upon the raw materials of their 
 manufactures, I believe—despotick as ye country is—that 
 Monster ye Excise ts unknown there—neither do I under- 
 stand that ye French Government imposes any duty upon 
 any raw material which they use in their own manufac- 
 tures ; in most places I am informed they have town duties 
 
 upon ye admission of all goods, and which are from three 
 
Oa orrespondence with Wedgwood. 101 
 
 to five per cent. upon ye values ; ye Duke de Penthiévre, I 
 am informed, has a grant which amounts to about one 
 penny per lb. upon all cotton which comes from St. Do- 
 mingo, but which is equally paid, whether it is consumed 
 in France or exported; whether ye French will look upon 
 it, that they have a right to countervail these duties, is 
 yet to be determined, taking it for granted that my infor- 
 mation is correct, but which I am not certain of. I expect 
 in the course of ten or so days some letters from France 
 upon these points; if there is anything worth communi- 
 cating to you in them, you shall hear from me again. 
 
 “Should my suspicions respecting ye cotton manufacture 
 prove groundless, does it appear to you that ye introduc- 
 tion of it, hardware, and earthenware into France, upon 
 ye duties specified in ye Treaty, is in any degree an 
 equivalent for ye admission of wines, vinegars, brandies, 
 oils, and cambricks from France? admitting at ye same 
 time that no injury is done either to our West India 
 Islands, or to the zavigatzon of this country; ye balance 
 of the other manufactures stipulated for on each side, I 
 take it, is in favour of France. 
 
 “From ye sfirit of this Treaty, unless it can be made 
 appear that it is as easy for England to grow grapes, &c., as 
 it is highly probable that France will manufacture cottons, 
 &c., we may in my opinion at ye expiration of ye twelve 
 
 years drink her wines, provided we can find money to pay 
 
102 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 for them, but I am much afraid that she will want few of 
 
 our manufactures, and what will then be ye comparative 
 
 state of ye British and French marine, is, I am much afraid, _ 
 
 a matter of still more serious consideration, should this 
 Treaty take effect.” 
 
 In a postscript Mr. Walker adds :— 
 
 “T am this moment informed that ye French have issued 
 an Edict, which prohibits the exportation of cottons; how 
 are we to reconcile that, and ye Edict, which revokes ye 
 priviledge of arrests, with a sincere intention on their part 
 to preserve a good understanding between ye two coun- 
 fries? 
 
 In addressing Mr. Wedgwood on the same subject two 
 days later, Mr. Walker prefaced his opinion with an 
 expression of regret that it differed so widely from that of 
 one whom he so much valued and esteemed, and from 
 whom he had often received so much good counsel and 
 useful instruction. 
 
 “From ye Treaty as it stands,” he admits, ‘ probably 
 some temporary advantages may be gained in some articles 
 of manufacture, but when ye general principle of it is taken 
 into consideration, and it is viewed either in a political or 
 in a commercial light, as far as I understand ye subject, 
 it appears in a very objectionable point of view, and 
 fraught with much evil to ye general interests of Great 
 
 Britain.” 
 
Correspondence with Wedewood. 1c3 
 
 These views are identical with those which were 
 expressed by Dr. Watson, Bishop of Llandaff, in an 
 exhaustive speech, when the Treaty was under discussion 
 in the House of Lords in the following year. But they 
 did not prevail. The argument of Pitt, that it was 
 ridiculous to imagine the French would consent to yield 
 advantages without any idea of compensation, and that 
 the Treaty, if it benefited France, would benefit England 
 more, carried the day; and a joint address of thanks for 
 an act calculated to promote goodwill between the two 
 countries and to preserve peace, was _ enthusiastically 
 
 adopted. 
 
CHAPTEReVii 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH FOX. 
 
 THE position which Mr. Thomas Walker held in Lan- 
 cashire and beyond Lancashire in the time of Fox and 
 Sheridan, is shown by the correspondence which these | 
 leaders of the Liberal party held with him; by the 
 anxiety with which they courted his advice, by the re- 
 spect which they paid to his opinions, and by the strong 
 personal regard in which Mr. Fox at any rate held his 
 doughty ally. So far back as January, 1786, we find Mr. 
 Fox asking for advice from the practical men of the 
 north on the Emperor’s Arrét—the “ German edict ” 
 referred to by Wedgwood in his letter of January 15, 
 1786 :— 
 
 “Dear Sir,—I have not been in J.ondon since the 
 news arrived of the Emperor’s Arrét, and consequently 
 have had no opportunity of informing myself of the 
 effect it is likely to have. The circumstance of its being 
 announced by the Chamber of Manufacturers leads me 
 to suppose that it must be considered by them as a 
 matter of importance, while on the other hand the great 
 indifference with which it is, as I hear, received by the 
 
 Ministry would make one suspect that they have some 
 
Correspondence with Fox. 105 
 
 ground to suppose it will not be attended with the con- 
 sequences naturally to be dreaded from it. I am going 
 to London in a day or two to stay, when I shall naturally 
 have opportunities of learning what sentiments are enter- 
 tained by the principal manufacturers and trades in the 
 south upon this subject; but as I should wish very much 
 to know what is thought of it in the north, and particu- 
 larly in Lancashire and Yorkshire, I should be much 
 obliged to you if you would favour me with a few lines 
 upon the subject. If the thing be really as mischievous 
 as I suspect and fear, two questions will naturally arise— 
 first, whether proper steps have been taken to prevent 
 it, and next what remedy, if any, can be now applied to 
 the evil. With respect to the first question, it is possible 
 that I may have better means of information than gen- 
 tlemen in the country, or those who have not been in 
 political situations ; but with respect to the next, I should 
 wish very much to know any ideas that may have sug- 
 gested themselves to persons whose interest in these 
 subjects is nearer, and whose opinions upon them more 
 valuable than those of theorists and politicians. 
 
 ““IT have not yet heard it given out that any steps 
 were taken for the prevention of the measure. Upon 
 the first view it appears to me, as a politician, that the 
 particular situation of things in Europe, especially while 
 
 the Exchange of Bavaria was in contemplation, gave ample 
 
GN Vee 
 
 106 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 means for prevention; but I would not presume anything 
 upon this till I have made further inquiries, which in 
 London I shall find it easy to do. Permit me to take 
 this occasion of assuring you that I never can forget the 
 very obliging manner in which you expressed yourself to 
 me at Manchester, and that I ever shall be, with true 
 regard, dear sir, 
 “‘Vour obedient, humble servant, 
 
 “C. Je ox. 
 “St. Anne’s Hill, 6 Jan., ’86. 
 
 “You will be so good as to direct to me in St. James’s 
 * 
 
 Street.” 
 
 The most important communication which Mr. Walker 
 received from Mr. Fox was one bearing date r1th January, 
 1788 :— 
 
 “My dear Sir,—It was with great satisfaction indeed 
 that I received, a few days since, your very obliging letter. 
 My sentiments on the African trade are just what you 
 suppose them, and I had some thoughts of having attacked 
 it myself in Parliament if Mr. Wilberforce had not been 
 beforehand with me. There are many reasons*-why I am 
 
 glad he has undertaken it rather than I, and I think, as 
 
 you do, that I can be very useful in preventing him | 
 
 from betraying the cause, if he should be so inclined, 
 
 which I own I suspect. Nothing, I think, but such a 
 
 - Mie 
 ~~ ee 
 
Correspondence with Fox. 107 
 
 disposition, or a want of judgment scarcely credible, could 
 induce him to throw cold water upon petitions. It is from 
 them and other demonstrations of the opinion without 
 doors that I look for success; and I am the more happy 
 that the town of Manchester sees the matter in this light, 
 because the cotton manufacturers were one of the classes 
 of men who were expected to think less liberally than 
 they ought upon this subject. I am not at present well 
 informed what are the other branches of manufacture the 
 vent of which is supposed to be encouraged by this 
 infernal traffic, but if the towns and places principally con- 
 cerned in such branches would follow the noble example 
 of Manchester, it would be of great advantage to the 
 cause, and do great honour to themselves; and I think 
 it will be difficult even for Liverpool, Bristol, etc., to 
 appear openly in support of so invidious a cause as the 
 defence of the trade. 
 
 “1 shall be very happy to see you next month in town 
 on every account, but particularly to talk over with you 
 the business of the expiration of the East India Company’s 
 Monopoly. That event will, I believe, happen in 1791; 
 but I am not sure. I never inquired enough into the 
 subject to know what are the commercial objections to 
 the opening of the trade. I am very sure indeed that of 
 political and constitutional reasons there are abundance 
 
 for it, and none against it. . . . I have still more 
 
| 
 
 free 16 homas Walker the Elder. 
 
 t 
 
 reasons than I can well mention in a letter for suspecting 
 
 Wilberforce in the business of the Slave Trade, which I 
 
 will tell you when I have the pleasure of seeing you, and 
 
 at any rate it is certain that he will make his conduct 
 . on this, as on every occasion, entirely subservient to what 
 he thinks Pitt’s interest; but yet, the more I think of it, 
 the more I think it is lucky that he is the leader in the 
 business. 
 “‘T am with great truth, dear Sir, 
 “Y oursiever. 
 
 Co pe Ome 
 ‘$St. Anne's Hill srre|ane oom 
 
 ‘“T received the game very fresh and good, and return 
 you many thanks for it. 
 
 ‘* P.S.—Upon looking over my letter I find I have 
 forgot taking notice of what you say of your intention of 
 making me acquainted with Mr. Cooper. I shall be very 
 happy to be acquainted with a gentleman who has taken 
 so spirited a part in this business, and whose love of 
 
 liberty seems to be so genuine and sincere.” 
 
 As chairman of the Manchester Committee for the Abo- 
 
 lition of Slavery, Mr. Walker was in constant communi- 
 cation with the active friends of that holy cause. His 
 purse, his time, and his influence were all enthusiastically 
 given to it. Granville Sharp, Major Cartwright, Clarkson, 
 Lord George Gordon (from Newgate), Lord Loughborough, 
 
Correspondence with Fox. 109 
 
 James Philips, Wilberforce, and others were among his 
 correspondents. 
 
 Fox’s anticipations as to the subserviency of Wilberforce 
 to Pitt were amply realised in the course of the year. 
 Pitt recommended that a Committee of the Privy Council 
 should be appointed to inquire into the facts and allega- 
 tions contained in the petitions presented to Parliament, 
 and on the 9th of May took the place of Mr. Wilberforce, 
 who was ill, by moving that the circumstances of the 
 slave trade should be taken into consideration next Ses- 
 sion. Both Fox and Burke condemned the delay, and 
 the inquiry given over to the Privy Council, maintaining 
 that it should have taken place before the House of 
 Commons; but Mr. Pitt had his own way. Moreover, 
 Liverpool and Bristol had the audacity to petition against 
 the suppression of the horrors of the Middle Passage. 
 
 An active and friendly correspondence was kept up 
 between the families of Mr. Fox and Mr. Walker to the 
 day of the great statesman’s deathe Among Mr. Walker’s 
 papers is a letter from Mr. Fox to Mr. T. Stanley, in 
 which he points out the conflict and confusion that would 
 arise when the Irish propositions took effect in the glove 
 and stocking trade. 
 
 “With respect to the business you mentioned,” Mr. Fox 
 writes, “nothing occurs to me but what must of course 
 
 have occurred to others. In regard to the glove and 
 
IIO Thomas Walker the Elder.’ 
 
 stocking trade, the great danger seems to arise from 
 
 smuggling. In the first of these trades it has been thought 
 
 to be so dangerous that the onus probandi is thrown upon 
 
 the person accused of selling foreign gloves. This Act 
 
 could hardly have passed if it were not absolutely neces- 
 sary, and yet all the effect of it will be lost when the 
 Irish propositions shall have taken effect. The seller of 
 gloves will only have to allege that the gloves are Irish, 
 which, after these new laws, may be legally imported ! 
 
 You cannot put upon him to prove they were made in 
 
 Ireland, and, of course, all the benefit to the glove trade - 
 
 resulting from the Act alluded to will be lost. The 
 stocking trade will be equally liable to fraud. ‘The great 
 security against French stockings is that no foreign stock- 
 ings are importable into this country, but when the Irish 
 are once admitted, who shall discern the Irish from the 
 French, and may it not become the interest of the Irish 
 to be the dépot for smuggling these and all other foreign 
 commodities into Great Britain?” 
 
 During the last illness of Mr. Fox, Mr. Walker appears 
 to have been in constant communication with Mrs. Fox. 
 Her letters are full of thanks for inquiries, for fruit, for 
 offers of service, &c. A box of apricots, ‘‘a few Lan- 
 cashire apples and pears,” &c., were constantly on their 
 way from Longford to Mr. Fox’s residence. In reply 
 
 Mrs. Fox writes (August 26, 1806) that Mr. Fox is a 
 
 i. = led 
 i = . or 
 SS eS eh? 
 
Correspondence with Fox. eel 
 
 great deal better; and that on the morrow they were 
 going to Chiswick for a day or two, and then to St. 
 Anne’s Hill, where they hope the good air will soon make 
 him quite well. But the end was at hand. Lord Holland 
 wrote (September 11) :—‘‘ Though I do not wish to raise 
 any hopes of a final recovery, of which there is but a 
 bare possibility, yet I have the satisfaction of saying that 
 Mr. Fox has been for twenty-four hours better than we 
 ever expected to see him, and that he has gained and 
 
 is gaining strength and ease.” 
 
 I find a letter from Mr. Walker to Mrs. Fox, dated 
 
 October 3, 1806, from the Grecian Coffee House :— 
 
 “ Dear Mrs. Fox,—Had it been in my power to have 
 offered you the least consolation on the death of that 
 great and good man, to know whom was to admire and 
 love him, I should have been among the first to have 
 paid so grateful a tribute to his revered memory. Not 
 only the great affection and respect I bore to Mr. Fox, 
 but the marked civility and attention I experienced on 
 your part the few times I had the honour of seeing you, 
 would have prompted me to discharge this melancholy 
 duty. But judging from my own feelings, I was convinced 
 I should only have added, if possible, to the poignancy of 
 yours. The same consideration would restrain me from 
 
 now addressing you, did I not flatter myself that after 
 
II2 Thomas Walker ap Elder. 
 
 the first acute sensations of affliction, the mere expression 
 
 of sympathy (for consolation I have none to offer) from 
 one who so dearly loved Mr. Fox, and who feels with 
 pride and pleasure that, in return, he enjoyed some por- 
 tion of his esteem, may not be wholly unacceptable to you. 
 
 *“With most fervent and sincere wishes for your health, 
 and all possible happiness, I have the honour to be, with 
 the highest respect and esteem, 
 
 “Dear Madam, 
 “Your very faithful and much obliged servant, 
 
 “ THOMAS WALKER.” 
 
 Mrs. Fox replied from St. Anne’s Hill on the 8th :-— 
 
 “ Dear Sir,—I feel greatly obliged to you for your kind 
 letter. The only consolation I can now have is in the 
 soothing attentions I receive from the friends of my ever 
 to be lamented husband, amongst whom I am sure you 
 were highly esteemed; and from reflecting that the 
 
 Almighty in His infinite goodness gave me strength of 
 
 body and mind to go through my last sad duty in the © 
 
 way that I was sure would be most satisfactory to his 
 feelings. Oh, my dear sir, it was indeed a dreadful task ; 
 but he is now happy, and I feel convinced that we shall 
 meet again in a better and happier world, though at the 
 same time I feel that the remainder of my journey in this 
 
 must be solitary and joyless. I am, I thank God, very 
 
 } 
 \ ele a a 
 ee ee ee we ee ee == 
 
 ee 
 
Correspondence with Fox. 113 
 
 well in health, and though the sight of this place -was 
 
 dreadfully agonising at first, I am convinced I shall be 
 
 happier here than anywhere else. I beg you to believe 
 
 me to be, dear sir, with best wishes for yours and Mrs. 
 
 Walker’s health and happiness, your sincerely obliged 
 
 *KLIZABETH Fox.” 
 
 With the death of Fox expired all chance, if not every 
 
 spark of hope, that the Whigs would show common gra- 
 
 ‘titude to a gallant servant of the good cause, who had 
 
 spent his fortune as well as the better part of his life in 
 promoting every popular question that had arisen in his 
 time ; and who never tired of work for what he conceived 
 to be the public good. In 1804 he writes in profound 
 discouragement to John Cartwright: ‘“‘ For some weeks 
 after I had the pleasure of last writing to you I was, 
 by the continuance of indisposition, unable to leave home. 
 I have since been in Manchester, where I have seén 
 several persons who profess themselves the friends of 
 
 freedom and of Sir Francis Burdett; but I am very sorry 
 
 to say it appears to me that neither their love of the 
 
 former nor their respect for the latter will lead them to 
 make any effort in support of their professions. Apathy 
 and timidity seem, at present, to be the order of the day 
 in a place which some years ago did not confine itself to 
 
 wishing. . . . A wicked and a corrupt Minister is a much 
 VoL. I. I 
 
I14 Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 more dangerous enemy than any foreign one; but a 
 money-mongering and a besotted people are worse than 
 either.” 
 
 Ten years later we find the veteran Reformer as elastic 
 and eager as ever. Writing to his son Charles* he goes 
 into the Corn Bill with vigour, after having expressed his 
 delight at a recent chastisement given lately “to that 
 impudent and incorrigible old rogue—George Rose.” 
 
 “A principal object of the clamour that has been raised 
 against the Corn Bill,’ he opines, “is to prevent a union 
 between the landed and commercial interests in favour 
 of reform, and against the authors and supporters of the 
 late sanguinary, expensive, and unnecessary war ; the orzgzn 
 of which, at present, seems to be entirely lost sight of 
 by the simple and undiscerning people. We must not 
 go into the Baltic for our loaf; when, if agriculture is 
 only properly encouraged, we may always have it cheaper 
 at home. Our price of labour is regulated wot by the 
 price of corn, but by the demand which there is for it ; 
 the wages in the cotton and all other manufactures are 
 sometimes high when corn is cheap, and sometimes low 
 
 when grain is dear.” 
 
 * Charles James Stanley Walker, now in his 85th year; who has 
 throughout his life, both as magistrate, and a public servant in many 
 capacities, enjoyed a high reputation for his public spirit, and his 
 devotion to the public weal in Lancashire. 
 
Correspondence with Fox. 115 
 
 - 
 
 It was shortly before the death of Fox that Mr. Walker 
 
 - was encouraged to hope that his broken fortunes (his trial 
 _ alone in 1794 cost him over £3,000) would be mended 
 somewhat by a Government appointment. In May, 
 1806, he wrote to Fox claiming his interest (which Fox 
 had cordially promised him) to obtain one of the Com- 
 missionerships of Customs for the port of London—a 
 position for which his extensive knowledge and life-long 
 pursuits eminently qualified him. He wrote also to Lord 
 Erskine. —The Commissionership of Customs having eluded 
 his grasp, he wrote in July of the same year to Lord 
 Erskine for a vacant Commissionership for auditing the 
 public accounts, adding that Fox was too ill to receive any 
 application on the subject. For the second, and last time 
 —so far as any record remains—he failed. 
 
 Yet neither neglect, ingratitude, nor loss of fortune 
 slackened the zeal of this true and earnest man. Nor 
 did the injustice with which his party treated him prevent 
 the chief of it from having recourse to his experience and 
 his sagacity, to the end of his life. , 
 
 In 1808 he is deeply engaged in a Manchester Water- 
 works Bill. In June, 1813, he is giving advice to Lord 
 Dundas, and describing the awful condition to which 
 Manchester had been reduced. In 1812 he is subscribing 
 to the fund for the trial of “ Mr. Knight and the 36 other 
 
 friends of Peace and Reform,” then in confinement in 
 I 2 
 
Tio Thomas Walker the Elder. 
 
 Lancaster Castle ; and obtaining Lord Brougham (through 
 his friend Major Cartwright) to defend them. His friend 
 Richardson, of the Temple, once bantered him on his 
 public spirit and his perpetual sacrifices of self. ‘‘ Interest 
 is the tutelary Deity that presides over all Places of Trade, 
 and I look upon you as an odd, out of the way Apos- 
 tate to the true Divinity of Manchester.” Apostate to 
 the Manchester Deity he remained to the end; and had 
 it not been for the noble legacy which his affectionate 
 friend and defender, Felix Vaughan, left him, he would 
 have died in poverty. Vaughan bequeathed his fortune 
 to the wife of Mr. Walker, and then to the wife of his 
 brother Richard; and this godsend kept the Longford 
 family together for many years after the death of the first : 
 and foremost of the political worthies of modern Lan- 
 cashire. 
 
 Thomas Walker died at Longford on the znd of Feb- 
 ruary, 1817, and was buried at St. Clement’s Church, 
 
 Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Lancashire. 
 
= 
 
BOOK II. 
 THOMAS WALKER THE YOUNGER. 
 
 SE co 
 CHAR TICR: J. 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF “THE ORIGINAL.” 
 
 Mr. THomas WALKER, of Barlow Hall, had six children, 
 three sons and three daughters—who were all remarkable 
 for great personal beauty, and created a sensation when they 
 drove into Manchester in the family carriage drawn by four 
 horses, or when they appeared at the theatre. Thomas, 
 the eldest of the sons, was born at Barlow Hall on the 
 toth of October, 1784. He was a sickly child, and 
 although a tall, comely man of distinguished bearing, he 
 is said to have been the least favoured by nature of the 
 boys of ‘‘Jacobin” Walker. He prided himself upon his 
 lusty health, and was fearful about the constitution of his 
 brother Charles, who still survives him: while he himself 
 died at the age of fifty-two of pulmonary apoplexy. 
 
 “Some months before I was born,” he observes in the 
 “Art of Attaining High Health,” “my mother lost a 
 favourite child from illness, owing, as she accused herself, 
 
 to her own temporary absence, and that circumstance 
 
120 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 preyed upon her spirits and affected her health to such a 
 degree, that I was brought into the world in a very weakly 
 and wretched state. It was Renpoaea I could not survive — 
 long; and nothing, I believe, but the greatest maternal 
 tenderness and care preserved my life. During childhood 
 I was very frequently and seriously ill—often thought to 
 be dying, and once pronounced to be dead. Iwas ten 
 years old before it was judged safe to trust me from home - 
 at all, and my father’s wishes to place me at a public 
 school were uniformly opposed by various medical advisers, 
 on the ground that it would be my certain destruction.” 
 This feeble state of health continued through his growing 
 years, and afier he had reached Cambridge, until he 
 vanquished it by making his health his study, in the 
 manner he has minutely described in ‘The Original.” 
 
 The earliest record of him is given in a letter from 
 Mr. Felix Vaughan to the elder Walker (Sept. 3rd, 1798). 
 The lad, then in his fourteenth year, appears to have 
 been taken on circuit by the Liberal counsellor, for a 
 holiday. 
 
 “Had I,” he writes, ‘‘been in possession of more time 
 and less fatigue for the last fortnight I should have written 
 to you without fail, principally to tell you that I am 
 extremely happy in Tom’s company, but more so in 
 observing great excellence of disposition in all he does 
 
 and says. Hitherto, indeed, the business of the Assizes 
 
The Author of “ The Original.” 121 
 has prevented my being a great deal with him; but he 
 seems to have the power of amusing himself more than 
 most young people of his age. Mr. Lushington happened 
 to buy in Yorkshire the small edition of Plutarch’s ‘ Lives’ 
 of which we spoke some time since, and this he lent me 
 for Tom’s use, who has read 2 vols. of them with much 
 pleasure to himself, and I doubt not with great mental 
 profit.” Tom himself writes to his mother (August 23rd, 
 1798) on the same trip :— | 
 
 ‘“‘ Dear Mamma,—I dare say you have expected a letter 
 from me before this time, but I have been in court every 
 day both morning and afternoon till yesterday, for it is so 
 very hot, and the town business is not so entertaining as 
 the trials of the Crown prisoners, which are now over, that 
 I have not been since yesterday morning. Four men are 
 to be hanged, but I only heard sentence passed upon 
 two; they were both much affected, but I think they 
 deserved their fate. The four soldiers are acquitted of the 
 murder of that man on Shude Hill. Patterson and 
 Cheetham are not to be tried these assizes. I heard 
 Mr. Vaughan make only one speech, but it was a very 
 good one, and I think saved his client. 
 
 ““T wrote to you yesterday afternoon, but Mr. Vaughan 
 received a letter at tea from Mr. Cooper, which he desired 
 me to enclose with his best compliments; the letter has 
 
 nothing in it very interesting, and is of a very late date. 
 
Parte 
 
 122 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 We did not drink tea till nearly ten o’clock, so that I was 
 in great haste to finish my letter, as I thought the post went 
 out last night, but as it does not set off till two o’clock 
 to-day I have written another letter, for the other was 
 nothing but blurs and scratchings out and _ postscripts. 
 There is in Mr. Cooper’s letter a little flower for Amelia 
 and four seeds of some kind of hedge nettle. I have seen 
 many sorts of flowers which we have not; yesterday I 
 found some white campions and some toad flax as fine 
 as that in the little garden. There are a great many nice 
 walks about here by the river-side; I was out two hours 
 and a half yesterday looking into ‘the book of nature,’ 
 and watching the salmon and trout leap out of the water : 
 sometimes they spring above a yard high. 
 
 ‘“‘Mr. Vaughan will go to Chester, but if you had rather 
 I went to Blackpool one of the counsellors is going, and he 
 will take care of me till Mr. Vaughan comes; I had rather 
 go to Chester first. 
 
 ‘“‘If Papa is come home give my love to him, and tell 
 him Mr. Vaughan has borrowed Plutarch, abridged, for me ; 
 they are the most entertaining books I ever read. Tell 
 Miss Walker to remind the gardener about the willow 
 twigs, but he must not plant them till I come home; also 
 tell her to take care of our garden or I will dig it all up 
 when I return. I have sent some clothes to be washed, 
 
 and an inventory with them; my cloth pantaloons were so 
 
The Author of “ The Original.” 123 
 
 tight that I could not get them off without ripping them 
 open ; I sent the rascals to the tailor, and he has, I hope, 
 ‘mended them. 
 
 “The fare here is not of the best kind; I have my 
 dinners from the inn: yesterday I had some st-nk-ng trout 
 ‘I dare not put that word in full for fear of Miss Walker), 
 and some salmon which was pretty good: the butter is 
 very bad, but this morning it was worse than ever, however 
 I managed to eat one piece with washing it down with tea. 
 Mr. Vaughan says he never met with such doings at 
 Longford. I am going to see the Castle this morning 
 with John, and then I shall take a walk zot with John. 
 Give my love to all, and believe me to be your ever 
 affectionate son, 
 
 “THOMAS WALKER, JUNR.” 
 
 In this letter it is easy to perceive, in the bud, Thomas 
 Walker, author of “The Original.” The allusion to the 
 condemned convicts shows the rigid mind that afterwards 
 dealt with the poor of Stretford and. Whitechapel ; and the 
 “prospecting ” after flowers, and the criticism on the diet, 
 indicate the fine discriminating taste of the author of 
 * Aristology,” and “The Art of Attaining High Health.” 
 
 And here let me interpolate the few lines that, many 
 years after this boyish letter was written, the man wrote of 
 
 his mother. 
 
124 _ Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 “She was indeed in many particulars an example for 
 her sex—an example too valuable to be altogether lost. I 
 
 will sketch for study one or two of the agreeable features in 
 
 her character. When I was living alone with her, as already - 
 
 stated, I used occasionally to go out to dinner in the 
 neighbourhood, and afterwards to walk home late, some- 
 times very late. * * * At whatever hour I arrived, I 
 always found my mother sitting up for me alone. Nota 
 _ word of reproach—not a question. If it happened to be 
 cold or damp, I was greeted with a cheerful fire, by which 
 she had been sitting, reading or netting, as her eyes would 
 permit, and with a colour on her cheek, at seventy, which 
 would have done no discredit to a girl of eighteen. She 
 had always the supper tray ready, ‘but not brought in, so 
 as neither to tempt me if I did not want anything, nor to 
 disappoint me if I did. When a man throws himself into 
 a chair, after the fatigues of the day, he generally feels 
 for a period a strong propensity to silence, any interrup- 
 tion of which has rather a tendency to irritate. I 
 observed that my mother had always great tact in discover- 
 ing the first symptoms of revival, till which she would 
 quietly go on with her own occupation, and then inquire 
 if I had had an agreeable party, and put such questions as 
 showed a gratifying interest, equally removed from worry- 
 ing curlosity and disheartening indifference. I recommend 
 
 the same course generally to female consideration and 
 
 . ss oe 
 
The A Sa. of “ The Original.” —125 
 
 ; adoption. If, from any engagement, I wished to breakfast 
 earlier than usual—however early, she was always ready, 
 and without taking any credit for her readiness. If I was 
 down before the hour I was almost sure to find her seated 
 at table ; or if the morning was fine, walking composedly 
 before the windows, with breakfast prepared. If I desired 
 to have a particular dinner it was served up just as I asked 
 for it—no alteration—no additional dish, with the very 
 Bap sep bical remark, ‘ You have no occasion to eat it 
 tunlers ith like.’ She seemed to be aware that needless 
 variety causes a distraction destructive of perfect con- 
 tentment, and that temptation resisted, as well as tempta- 
 tion yielded to, produces, though in an inferior degree, 
 digestive derangement. I will mention only one other trait, 
 and that is, that though she was unremitting in her care 
 and attention when any of her family were ill, yet her own 
 ‘ indispositions she always concealed as long as she could 
 —for it seemed to give her pain to be the cause of the 
 least interruption to the pleasure of those she loved.” 
 
 The health of Mr. Walker had sufficiently improved 
 as he approached manhood, to admit of his proceeding to 
 Trinity College, Cambridge, where in due time he took his 
 degree. In 1812 he was called to the Bar at the Inner 
 Temple; but he appears to have practised little. His 
 feeble health in early manhood, hindered his progress ; 
 
 although it did not prevent him from giving close attention 
 
126 | Thomas Walker the Y Ounger. 
 
 to one or two public subjects, and particularly to that of 
 the Poor Laws, the management of estates, the economy 
 of labour, and the regulation of charity. He was a hard 
 reasoner, evidently uninfluenced by sentiment. His deal- 
 ings with the poor were on a rigid line of conduct which 
 he had thought out. He applied his opinion to the 
 government of the pauper as he set it in motion on his 
 own health. ‘One day,” he relates, “when I had shut — 
 myself up in the country, and was reading with great atten- 
 tion Cicero’s treatise, De Oratore, some passage, I orget 
 what, suggested to me the expediency of making the 
 improvement of my health my study. I rose from my 
 book, stood bolt upright, and determined to be well. In 
 pursuance of my resolution, I tried many extremes, was 
 guilty of many absurdities, and committed many errors, 
 amidst the remonstrances and ridicule of those around 
 me. I persevered, nevertheless, and it is now (1835) I 
 believe full sixteen years since I have had any medical 
 advice, or taken anything by way of medicine.” 
 
 In precisely the same way he set about putting the 
 government of the poor of the township in which Longford 
 was situated, in healthy order. But he had deeply studied 
 the Poor Laws before he thought of making a study of him- 
 self. His experiments in the art of attaining high health 
 were begun in 1819, when he had succeeded to the estate 
 
 of Longford; and it was here that, with his first self- 
 
The Author of “ The Original” 127 
 
 acquired strength, he continued vigorously the plan he had 
 laid down for the better government of the workhouse. 
 
 “In August, 1817,” he says in his Treatise on the Nature, 
 - Extent, and Effects of Pauperism, “an opportunity occurred 
 to me of commencing an experiment on the subject of 
 pauperism in the township of Stretford, in the parish of 
 Manchester—a district partly manufacturing, but principally 
 agricultural, and containing about 2,000 acres of land, and 
 as many inhabitants.” 
 
 Th : originality and the success of the Stretford experiment 
 were the foundation of Mr. Walker’s advancement in public 
 life. His record of his Stretford work was not published 
 until 1326 ; but in 1822 the principal inhabitants of the 
 township met and offered him a handsome silver cup, as ‘“‘a 
 tribute of gratitude” for the good work he had done. In 
 1823 he was in communication with Sir Robert Peel on the 
 subject he had made his own ; and at which, like President 
 Lincoln, he “ pegged away ” to the time of his death. Sir 
 Robert writes :— 
 
 ‘TI beg leave to thank you for the sensible observations 
 with which you have been good enough to favour me, on 
 the subject of the administration of the Poor Laws. I have 
 long thought that many advantages would arise from leav- 
 ing the powers of the select vestry more free from external 
 control. I beg to enclose a copy of Mr. Nolan’s Bill, 
 
 which is very shortly about to be submitted to the 
 
128 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 consideration of the House. Should anything ee: to you | @ 
 with respect to its provisions, and particularly with respect 
 to the mode of keeping the accounts of the parish which it 
 attempts to prescribe and regulate, perhaps you will favour 
 me with your suggestions. I fear it would be expensive 
 and very difficult to establish by law an uniform systemagt | 
 accounts. 
 
 “To the clause relating to the Badging of the poor I~ 
 object.” | 
 Four days after the date of Sir Robert peal ett ntr. 
 
 Walker replied :— 
 
 ‘“‘T have the honour to submit to you my opinion on Mr. ~ 
 Nolan’s Bill, which I have examined with attention. I 
 regret to say I do not discover throughout its numerous 
 provisions any acquaintance with practical effect, any ray of 
 the new lights in political economy, or even any attempt to 
 bring back pauperism within the limits of the 43rd Elizabeth 
 —on the contrary, the provisions of that injurious statute 
 the 9 Geo. I. are adopted and enlarged, and the interference 
 of the justices and the providing employment of the able- 
 bodied poor are extended beyond all precedent. Mr. Nolan 
 aims at the perpetual regulation of bad principles instead 
 of their gradual abolition, and I am convinced that the 
 further recognition of such principles will produce more evil 
 than any regulation of them can produce good. ‘The Bill 
 
 appears to me a striking illustration of the following 
 
129 
 
 ssages from pigevslone. ‘When the 43rd Blizabeth was | 
 an neglected and departed Bork, we cannot but observe with 
 _ concern what miserable shifts and lame ‘expedients have 
 ile time to time been adopted, in order to patch up the 
 flaws occasioned by this neglect.’ And again, ‘ The farther 
 
 : equent flaws for maintaining the poor have departed 
 
 4 Tr | Elizabeth, the more. impracticable and even 
 ernicious their visionary attempts have proved. As long 
 i exist, the 43rd Elizabeth, so far as relates to 
 and limitation of objects, seems incapable of 
 
 improvement. 
 | “To enter a little into details—the ferpetwal interference 
 of the justices is making bad worse, and preventing effect 
 from over-fear of abuse. ‘The badging, I think, is bad in 
 __ principle, and would be repugnant to the national feeling, 
 
 and with the proposed modification quite unavailing. 
 “The proposal of degrading the constitutional force of 
 the realm by making it a place of punishment for the scum 
 of pauperism: surely needs no comment; but I will add 
 that it would be, for more than one reason, utterly im- 
 
 | practicable. 
 
 “With respect to the mode of keeping the accounts it 
 appears to me much too complicated for agricultural or 
 small parishes, and in manufacturing districts and large 
 
 ~ towns (as far as my knowledge goes) the accounts are 
 kept and examined by persons perfectly conversant with 
 
 ah eee K 
 
130 Thomas Walker the Y unger. " 
 
 business, and any parliamentary regulation would be un- 
 necessary and perhaps embarrassing. | | 
 
 “The provision for ‘some plan for the employment, 
 relief, and maintenance of the able-bodied poor being in 
 need thereof,’ and the giving the power.to justices to place _ 
 paupers upon the roads, I consider as pernicious in the 
 extreme. The punishing ‘overseers or other officers or 
 persons,’ in certain cases in the same way as paupers by 
 hard labour and as incorrigible rogues, appears tggme 
 highly injudicious and inappropriate; but what overseer 
 would be permitted to commit a ‘second or other offence’ 
 of the kind specified in fol. 7? In short, there is scarcely — 
 a provision in the Bill to which I do not see some 
 objection, either in principle or practice, except indeed a 
 few which existed already, but which are here encumbered 
 with useless regulations, such as the one in fol. 6 on relief 
 to poor in foreign parishes. 
 
 “In the Report from the Committee of the House of 
 Commons on the Poor Laws in 1817 it is observed, ‘The 
 efficacy of any expedient which can be suggested must 
 depend upon some of those who are most interested in 
 the welfare of a parish, taking an active share in the 
 administration of its concerns. Without this the Com- 
 mittee are convinced no benefit will be derived from any 
 amendment that can be made in the details of the system.’ 
 
 The numerous and complicated regulations of Mr. Nolan’s 
 
Pe] 
 
 The Author of « The Original.” 
 
 Bill and the constant interference of magistrates must 
 
 a operate ds a powerful discouragement to such assistance as 
 
 . is alluded to by the Committee, and which in my opinion 
 ies is the great desideratum.” | 
 
 He added in a postscript : “An idea has suggested itself 
 
 ; to me in consequence of my examination of the law, joined 
 
 - with my Oe aence in practice, by which entirely to do 
 
 sees way with the pauperising principle, and that in a very 
 : Seager irovised a better management could in the 
 meantime be introduced in the actual system ; but I have 
 Rot ‘sufficiently digested the subject to speak with any 
 degree of confidence, and I have much hesitation in 
 
 _ mentioning it at all.” 
 | His final oe the wisdom of which he declared in a 
 preface to an abridgment of his ‘‘ Observations on Pauper- 
 ism,” published in 1831, to be fortified by six months’ 
 experience as a county magistrate of Middlesex at the 
 Worship Street Police Office, and two years’ uninterrupted 
 experience in addition as a police magistrate at the Lambeth 
 _ Police Office (where he succeeded Sir Daniel Williams), is 
 fully set forth in his own words. His appointment was 
 hailed by a host of distinguished persons—by Lord 
 Lansdowne, the Archbishop of York, his intimate friend 
 Sydney Smith, the Bishop of London, &c. Fortified with 
 his Stretford experience, he set to work in London with 
 extraordinary vigour in the two districts over which he had 
 
 K 2 
 
132 Thomas Walker the Younger, 
 
 magisterial control. The Worship Street district contained 
 a population of 265,000, including Spitalfields; and that 
 of Lambeth 152,000, amongst which was a great part of 
 the seafaring population of London, an immense number 
 of Irish, and “9 great deal of the lowest class to be found 
 in the kingdom.” And here is the key-note to Mr. Walker’s 
 
 treatise :— 
 
 “T think I cannot better illustrate the effects of the — 
 
 Poor Laws than by the following anecdote which I once 
 heard from a gentleman connected with Guy’s Hospital.* 
 The founder left to the trustees a fund to be distributed 
 
 to such of his relatives as should from time to time fall into 
 
 * I have received the following note from Mr. William Rendle on ~ 
 
 this subject :— 
 
 “Tt is stated by Mr. Walker, upon the authority of ‘a Gentleman 
 of Guy’s Hospital,’ that the founder left to the trustees a fund to be 
 distributed to such of his relatives as should from time to time fall 
 into distress, and that ‘distress’ was by this means so encouraged 
 that no Guy was ever known to prosper so long as the practice 
 lasted. I do not controvert the opinion that such bequests are 
 undoubtedly demoralising, but I doubt the fact as stated by the 
 
 gentleman of Guy’s. Many and very large bequests extending over 
 
 several pages of the will were left to Guy’s relatives and friends, 
 but they were absolute gifts to persons named, in no way conditional 
 as to circumstances. Sums were left in certain cases to be advanced 
 ‘to such as should want to be put forth apprentices.’ This, however, 
 must be considered a provident application of the funds favourable 
 to prosperity. Bequests to the young, of which there were many, 
 were not to accrue until the parties were married or of age, and 
 meanwhile there were allowances for education and maintenance. 
 This might or might not encourage improvidence; but whether so 
 
The Author of “The Original” 133 
 
 distress. The fund at length became insufficient to meet 
 the applications, and the trustees, thinking it hard to refuse 
 any claimants, had recourse to the funds of the Hospital, 
 the consequence of which was, as my informant stated, that, 
 as long as the practice lasted, No GUY WAS EVER KNOWN 
 TO, PROSPER. So that if any individual could be wicked 
 enough to wish the ruin of his posterity for ever, his surest 
 means would be to leave his property in trust to be dis- 
 tributed to them only when in distress. Just so it has been 
 with the legal provision for the poor in England. With 
 slight variations, the fund required has, from its institution, 
 been continually increasing, and the progress of moral 
 
 improvement has, in consequence, been greatly retarded.” 
 
 or no, there was no condition as to distress. Nomination of four 
 poor children to Christ’s Hospital was provided for, with preference 
 to Guy’s relatives. This looks rather as a legitimate provision against 
 improvidence. Guy founded .almshouses at Tamworth for fourteen 
 poor persons, with preference to poor relations, who were to have 
 -lodging, &c., and two shillings per week each for maintenance. 
 Thirty-five pounds annual payment was provided for apprenticing 
 and nursing children of the Voughton and Wood families. The 
 only mention of the name of Guy is connected with an annual 
 bequest of ten pounds for apprenticing and nursing children of that 
 name. Had this amount not been for teaching trades and nursing 
 it would probably have been insufficient to demoralise all the Guys. 
 In a general way the tone of Guy’s will appears to be favourable 
 to the encouragement of thrift, and except as to the almshouses it 
 contains no express provision for any relatives who might from time 
 to time fall into distress.” 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 MR. WALKER AT STRETFORD. 
 
 Mr. WALKER was a thorough, downright hater of the 
 old Poor Laws. He was a Malthusian. He looked upon 
 most paupers as worthless fellows, who had learned to live 
 at the expense of their neighbours, under the protection 
 of the law. The pauper was a bird of prey to be got 
 rid of. When he opened his campaign at Stretford he 
 found a set of lazy fellows tricking the hard-working com- 
 munity, and living in idleness. 
 
 “TI began,” he says, “by procuring the adoption of 
 somewhat the same plan as Mr. Sturges Bourne’s Select 
 Vestry,* not then legalised—a suggestion of the neighbour- 
 ing magistrate, Ralph Wright, Esq., whom I consulted in 
 the first instance, and whose co-operation, as well as that 
 of the most respectable inhabitants, I uniformly met with, 
 during a residence at intervals of three years and a half. 
 I soon found that the magistrates as usual had no confidence 
 in the overseers, to the spiee gain of the paupers, whose 
 
 appeals from the overseers to the magistrates were incessant. 
 
 * The Select Vestry, by 59 George III., c. 12, consisted of the 
 clergyman, churchwardens, and overseers for the time being, together 
 with not more than twenty nor less than five substantial householders 
 or occupiers, elected annually by the ratepayers at large. 
 
mesa! °F |. 4! Pius a) ela DO eT ee DO ae 
 "ys ales ie’ ie al ain Cl Sarai ee wa ea 
 i 4 e > “4 
 it ; ‘ f 
 
 Mr. Walker at Stretford. 135 
 
 I found that the paupers were insolent in the extreme to 
 the farmers, and in a great measure their masters—that the 
 paupers were combined together to get as much from the 
 rates as possible, and that they practised all sorts of tricks 
 and impositions for that purpose—that the industrious 
 labourers were discouraged—the well-disposed inhabitants 
 afraid, or persuaded that it was in vain to interfere—and 
 every individual driven to do the best he could for himself 
 or his connections at the general expense. For some time 
 the paupers tried every art to deceive or tire me out, and 
 some of the ratepayers who were driven from the manage- 
 ment opposed me in secret ; but the good effects of the new 
 system became so apparent, both as to economy and good 
 order, that opposition grew less and less, and at last 
 suddenly and entirely ceased. I spent almost my whole 
 time for some months in visiting the labouring classes—in 
 making myself master of their habits—in explaining to 
 them the causes of their distress—and in enforcing, as 
 occasions arose, the doctrines of Mr. Malthus, which I 
 took care to put in the most familiar and pointed manner 
 I was able, and I was surprised to see the effect generally 
 produced—it was as if a new light had broken in upon my 
 hearers. By degrees I gained their confidence—they 
 constantly applied to me to settle their disputes, or for 
 legal advice, or for assistance in whatever difficulties 
 
 they found themselves; and as I was frequently able to 
 
- 
 
 136 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 serve them, I found that circumstance of great advantage 
 in carrying into execution any measure of severity or 
 privation. With respect to former abuses in the manage- 
 ment, I made it a rule never to look back, but held that 
 neglect on one side and imposition on the other had 
 balanced the account, and that it would be better to look 
 only to the future. I found this plan attended with the 
 best effects. Those who had profited by abuse were glad 
 to escape so easily. Those who really wished for what was 
 right were not shocked by any appearance of harshness ; 
 and instead of wrangling about the past, everything went on 
 well for the present, and not one backward movement was 
 made. A few hours in a week soon became sufficient to 
 do all the business, and at last a trifling superintendence 
 was alone necessary. Information came to me from all 
 quarters—the combination amongst the paupers was 
 dissolved—appeals to the magistrates, whose unvaried 
 support I experienced, entirely ceased—the rates were 
 considerably diminished—the labourers depended more 
 upon themselves and were generally better off—and what 
 was more important, new principles were gaining ground. 
 “The amount of money paid to the poor during the 
 years of my occasional superintendence, exclusive of the 
 maintenance of those in the workhouse and of the expense 
 of a few articles of clothing, was as follows :—From March, 
 
 1817, to March, 1818, £812 16s. 6d.; March, 1818, to 
 
Wa eA ra Te ee ee Pe eee ey: SS way 
 ay +A rt vy - . 
 1 f y 
 
 Mr. Watker at Stretford. ee 
 
 March, 1819, £537 19s. 734d.; March, 1819, to March, 
 1820, £489 12s. 6d.; March, 1820, to March, 1821, 
 L 368 4s. When I first interfered in August, 1817, it was 
 the eeice to admit families into the workhouse; at the 
 time my interference ceased the number: of inmates was 
 
 reduced to eight, viz., six aged persons and two young 
 
 - women—one of the latter half idiotic, and the other labout- 
 
 ing under severe disease. Three of the old men broke 
 stones for the roads, and the idiotic girl maintained herself. 
 In fact a workhouse was become quite unnecessary. Before 
 the commencement of the alteration of system the expenses 
 of pauperism were rapidly increasing, and the reduction was 
 solely owing to that species of amendment in management 
 which may be put in practice under any circumstances.” 
 
 His principle is best summarised in the following passage 
 from his “ Observations ” :— 
 
 “In order to exhibit pauperism in its strongest colours, 
 suppose an extensive and fertile parish with an unusual 
 number of wealthy residents, with large woods, much game, 
 a facility of smuggling, two or three: commons, several 
 almshouses, endowments for distributing bread and clothes, 
 and-much private charity ; and suppose the rich to take no 
 farther concern in parish affairs, than alternately to grumble 
 at the amount of a rate or the harshness of an overseer, as 
 application is made to them for their money or for their 
 
 protection. | Under such circumstances, the spirit of 
 
138 Thomas Walker the Y. OUNgEr. 
 
 pauperism will be at its height; and yet people who should 
 know better will be found to hold such language as this: 
 ‘TI don’t know how it is the rates in this parish are so high ; 
 we are particularly well off for provision for the poor; there © 
 are almshouses, and regular distributions of food and clothes : 
 they have all common-rights, at least they all take them ; 
 they pick up fuel for nothing—I am sure they are never out 
 of my woods ; they smuggle almost everything they want ; 
 and then private charity is really quite unbounded ; and yet 
 I can’t say I see much gratitude in return; the damage done 
 to property is immense, and the expense and vexation about 
 game completely destroy all the pleasure of it. I often 
 wish I had not a bird or a hare on my estate. Really it is 
 in vain to do anything for the poor; indeed, I think the 
 
 more pains one takes, the worse they are. Lord 
 
 gave 
 them an ox to roast last King’s birth-day, and they 
 absolutely pulled down his park paling to make the fire.’* 
 For poverty put pauperism, and for charity indiscretion, and 
 all will be explained. Giving to pauperism is only ‘spreading 
 the compost on the weeds to make them ranker.’ 
 
 “Tt is of the utmost importance accurately to distinguish 
 between poverty and pauperism ; for by confounding them, 
 poverty is dishonoured and pauperism countenanced. 
 Supply poverty with means and it vanishes, but pauperism 
 
 is the more confirmed. Poverty is a sound vessel empty, 
 
 * This actually happened a few years since. 
 
Mr. Walker at Stretford. 139 
 
 but pauperism is not only empty but cracked. Poverty is 
 a natural appetite, merely wanting food—pauperism a 
 "ravenous atrophy, which no food can satisfy. Poverty 
 strives to cure itself—pauperism to contaminate others. 
 Poverty often stimulates to exertion—pauperism always 
 paralyses. Poverty is sincere—pauperism is an arch-hypo- 
 crite. Poverty has naturally a proud spirit—pauperism a 
 base one, now servile, now insolent. Poverty is silent and 
 retiring—pauperism clamorous and imposing; the one 
 grateful, the other the reverse. There is much that is 
 alluring in poverty, but pauperism is altogether hateful. 
 It is delightful to succour the one, and irksome to be 
 
 taxed for the other. Poverty has the blessing of Heaven as 
 
 well as those who relieve it—pauperism, on the contrary, 
 has nothing in common with the Christian virtues.” 
 
 It will be seen that Mr. Walker lived before his time. 
 To-day he would have been the chief of the organizers of 
 charity; and he would not have interfered with the flow 
 of charity before he had given a wise direction to the 
 stream. But let us see what he did at Stretford, according 
 to the testimony of the principal inhabitants of the town- 
 ship :— 
 
 *“¢ Manchester, 27th August, 1823. 
 
 “My dear Sir, — When you were absent the principal 
 inhabitants and landowners of Stretford, fully impressed 
 
 with the value of your services to that township, had the 
 
* 
 
 140 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 pleasure of recording their grateful and unanimous senti- 
 ments on this subject. They did not indeed content them- 
 selves with merely endeavouring to expréss these sentiments 
 in their proceedings, but the same impulse at once led them 
 to the determination of offering to your acceptance a piece 
 of plate, as a further and more lasting proof of the un- 
 feigned respect and gratitude with which they regarded your 
 very able, laborious, and unwearied exertions in the true 
 interests of the township. 
 
 “To me, as one of the inhabitants and as a friend, it is a 
 most pleasing duty to be the direct means of conveying to 
 you this testimony of public feeling. I know I speak the 
 language of all in saying that our local affairs were grossly 
 neglected and deranged before your attention was directed 
 to them. The rates were much higher than necessary, and 
 the poor discontented. You not only suggested the re- 
 medy, but personally superintended its progress and effect, 
 with a degree of alacrity and perseverance scarcely to be 
 equalled. The result was successful. Our parochial concerns 
 were brought into order, our burthens were considerably 
 reduced, and the poor satisfied. Such considerations as 
 these are of the highest interest, and must long live in 
 the remembrance of your fellow-townsmen. 
 
 “The intrinsic amount of their tribute is trifling, but the 
 cordial and lively spirit by which it was dictated will not, 
 
 they trust, be deemed unacceptable. 
 
i 
 
 ae ‘Yours always faithfully and obliged, 
 
 “ WILLIAM SERGEANT. 
 “ Thomas Walker, Esq., Longford.” 
 
 _ The testimonial was a handsome silver cup, inscribed— 
 ey Tribute of Gratitude. Presented to Thomas Walker, 
 Esq. ., by the inhabitants of Stretford. 1822.” 
 Mr. Walker has observed: “It must not be supposed 
 that all the trouble I took in the township of Stretford was 
 “necessary to effect the reduction in the rates; having studied 
 the Peale of the Poor Laws, I was anxious to make 
 myself master of the details. In an agricultural parish with 
 which I am acquainted in one of the Midland counties, 
 the following reductions were made in the total annual 
 amounts of the rates merely by the exertions of some of 
 the farmers, and here also a workhouse might have been 
 
 dispensed with. 
 
 fA. -§. a. 
 isi9° , ‘ : a esate 2)f58) 2) 10 
 1820 : ‘ F : : r.27 eto O 
 1821 : i ‘ ; i : 937...9 6 
 1822 < Reet his 3 : : Ser wi8 
 1823 ° . : ‘ . wine ees, Os” 
 
 This practical test of his principles, admirably carried 
 out, with the energy and resolution which he had inherited 
 from his grandfather, was the starting-point of his useful 
 
 public life. 
 
CHAPTER IIT. 
 
 THE ORIGINAL. 
 
 WE now approach the labour of Mr. Walker’s life—by 
 which he is likely to live: viz., “The Original.” 
 
 The art of attaining high health—the main subject of this 
 work—is one of which good breeding is an essential element. 
 The travels of Police Magistrate Thomas Walker in search 
 of health, taken from the day when he started up from the 
 reading of Cicero’s Treatise De Oravore, “determined to be 
 
 well,” illustrate perpetually the benefits of a regular and 
 
 temperate life, graced with cultivated courtesies, and buoyed 
 
 with cheerful and generous estimates of men and things. His 
 writing is as far from passion as it is removed from meanness. 
 Whether addressing advice to the poor agricultural labourer, 
 or elaborating his opinions on the methods of lessening 
 pauperism ; or, again, dwelling on the finer developments 
 of aristology, he recommends himself by his moderation. 
 The mind with which you are brought in contact is that of 
 a well-bred, well-disciplined man. His lessons had _ this 
 strength in them—that they inculcated discipline by a strict 
 disciplinarian. He was the best exemplar of his own doc- 
 
 trine. By discipline he did more for himself than, during 
 
 / 
 
 See a ae eS ers a oe 
 
The Original. : 143 
 
 many years, the doctors had been able to do. He relates 
 that when he had brought his appetites under complete 
 control, and was residing at home in the country alone with 
 his mother, who inspired him with contentment, he who 
 had been a wretched invalid enjoyed ‘an absolutely 
 glowing existence.” He had brought his body to so pure 
 _a condition that it vigorously repelled impurity. His face 
 remained clean without washing. The dust of the road 
 could not tarnish his feet. ‘The mind had made a complete 
 mastery, and was as buoyant in the victory as the body. 
 This was the result of conscientious and courageous self- 
 inspection. At breakfast, the cup of tea was reduced to 
 half a cup; the luxurious dinner was moderated to one dish 
 of meat and one of vegetables, with just half a pint of table 
 beer. Tea and supper were on the same frugal scale. The 
 watcher had discovered that the secret of good digestion 
 was never to anticipate the appetite, to ovérload it, or to 
 disappoint it. Moderation in all things—in eating and 
 drinking, in exercise and in sleep, in mental activity and in 
 the emotions ; and moderation in all things is easy when 
 the body has been disciplined to the regular and due per- 
 formance of all its functions. On digestion, Mr. Walker 
 says, entirely depends the state-of man. If this be so, 
 education should begin in the cupboard; and the moral 
 nature of the individual may be traced back to his tops and 
 
 bottoms. An unnecessary egg at breakfast means a shabby 
 
144 ” Thomas Walker the V ounger. 
 
 action before bedtime. A man may eat himself into New- 
 gate. Porkus stands in the dock charged with having 
 brained Jack Styles last night. Porkus has been ruined 
 by an unnecessary Welsh rarebit. Indigestion, as well as . 
 drunkenness, helps to fill our gaols. An ill-regulated eater 
 is an ill-regulated man, prone to violence in argument, as 
 well as in action. 
 
 The first steps towards a disciplined life are the most 
 difficult to take. But, says Mr. Walker, with the authority 
 of experience, when the whole nature has been brought 
 into harmony by a strict impression of everything tending 
 to its good, and a peremptory setting aside of everything 
 harmful, the mental. machine and the physical machine . 
 move easily—as the mathematically-adjusted engine will 
 work without watching. ‘Time and patient endeavour are 
 needful to this harmony. The discomforts which attend 
 the breaking of a bad habit are too much for those who — 
 are in the least infirm of purpose. ‘The certain failure 
 which attends irresolution is comfortably set down to the 
 peculiar individuality of the individual. 
 
 “Content the stomach, and the stomach will content 
 you,” Mr. Walker’s golden rule, may lead the irresolute 
 astray; he knew this, and prepared for it. The irresolute 
 man puts his weakness upon the peculiarity of his stomach. 
 Mr. Walker may do with half a cup of tea at breakfast, 
 
 but Wayward’s stomach declines to be content with a 
 
The Original. oats TA5 
 
  thimbleful of eee akan indeed -a most. whimsical 
 _ stomach, and will have truffles, and must wrestle with 
 plover’s eggs. Half a pint of table ale may put the 
 stomach of some people in a condition of seraphic con- 
 tent ; but our friend Wayward’s is not so easily lulled to 
 rest or put into good humour. It has been warmed with 
 Clos Vougeot, and will not be satisfied with a glass of 
 treble X. The stomach carries the day; and both the 
 moral and physical man have a tendency to be ill, instead 
 of a tendency to be well. 
 
 The head and heart must begin the. fight, and must be 
 prepared for a tough and obstinate battle. “First,” says 
 Mr. Walker, ‘‘study to acquire a composure of mind and 
 1 body ; avoid. agitation or hurry of one or the other, espe- 
 cially just before and after meals, and whilst the process 
 of digestion is going on. To this end, govern your temper, 
 endeavour to look at the bright side of things ; keep down 
 as much as possible the unruly passions—discord, envy, 
 hatred, and malice; and lay your head upon your pillow 
 in charity with all mankind.” ‘This is the sweet counsel 
 on which Mr. Walker based his plan for the life, happy 
 through health, of an English gentleman. But he who is 
 composed in mind, whose temper is within the power of 
 his own government, who is absolute master of his passions, 
 and whose heart beats in sympathy with all mankind, is 
 
 already a temperate man. It may be necessary to tell 
 
 Ola Le 07 
 
146 Thomas Walker the Younger. — 
 
 him that he should avoid solitary meals, that he should 
 be cheerful at table ; but he has already brought his wants 
 within his means, and his appetites within the bounds of 
 reason. The virtues that are the basis of the life which. 
 Thomas Walker reached are, in part at least, the result 
 of the regulated diet he enjoins. Has he not already said 
 that perfect digestion is at the root of everything in life? 
 There are men of exemplary conduct who are martyrs to 
 indigestion, who have not mastered the art of attaining 
 high health, and have yet held themselves free from evil 
 passions, and practised those charities and social graces 
 which are the badge of true nobility in man. ‘These are 
 heroes—are saints, indeed. He who can be patient and 
 charitable while it is beyond the power of his body to 
 digest the food in his stomach, is a giant among men. ~ 
 
 Then, again, the mind must begin it. The head must 
 resolve to just give the stomach that which it can digest, 
 and to endure its early grumblings cheerfully. Cheerfulness 
 is the first aid to digestion; cheerful abstinence is the first 
 trial which he who is bent upon reforming bad physical 
 as well as moral habits, must attain. While he goes fretting 
 from the widow Clicquot to his half a pint of table beer 
 and his one dish, he will not find himself, either physically 
 or morally, much benefited by the change. Let the man 
 who is stranded on this bar just outside the port, think 
 
 over what follows. 
 
The Original. 147 
 
 We are under the roof of the Little Sisters of the Poor. 
 The house is full of old folk, men and women. It is 
 _ death’s vestibule, governed by the gentlest charity I have 
 _ ever seen acting on the broken fortunes of mankind. The 
 sisters are so many gentlewomen who have put aside all 
 those worldly vanities so dear in these days of hoops and 
 paint to the majority of their sisters, and have dedicated 
 
 their lives to the menial service of destitute oid age. They 
 | beg crusts and bones from door to door, and spread the 
 daily board for their protégés with the crumbs from rich 
 men’s tables. And it is only after the old men and women 
 have feasted on the best of the crumbs, that the noble 
 sisters break their fast. I stepped into the Little Sisters’ 
 refectory. ‘The dishes were heaps of hard crusts and scraps 
 of cheese; and at the ends of the table were jugs of water. 
 The table was as.clean as that of the primmest epicure. 
 The serviette of each sister was folded within a ring. And 
 the sisters sit daily—are sitting to-day, will sit to-morrow— 
 with perfect cheerfulness, their banquet the crumbs from 
 pauper tables! Cheerfulness will digest the hardest crust, 
 the horniest cheese, or these pious women had died long 
 ago. He who may find it difficult to make the first step 
 to the cleanly, healthy, gentlemanly life into which Thomas 
 Walker schooled himself, should knock at the gate of the 
 hermitage wherein the Little Sisters of the Poor banquet 
 
 pauper age, and pass into the refectory of these gentle- 
 
 L 2 
 
148 Lhomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 women. It is but a stone’s throw out of the noisy world. 
 
 It lies in the midst of London. Here let the half 
 repentant, the wavering Sybarite rest awhile, pondering 
 the help which a holy cheerfulness gives to the stomach, 
 —yea, when the food is an iron crust and cheese-parings. 
 Mr. Walker tells us “a feeling of lightness or oppression, 
 -of fermentation or quiescence, will come or go as the spirits 
 rise or fall; and the effect is generally immediately per- 
 
 ceptible in the countenance.” There is no sickness at the 
 
 heart, he tells us; the sickness proceeds from the stomach. ~ 
 
 Yet again, he says, the digestion is impaired when the 
 heart is troubled. ‘The first fault is with the head, then, 
 still: “upon the digestive organ mainly depend beauty and 
 strength of person, and beauty and strength of mind. But 
 the mind must have the force to take up the government 
 of the digestive organ, and compel it to act and make a 
 grateful return in ever-increasing gifts of mental strength 
 and. seemliness.” 
 
 How beneficent is the scheme in which joy begets 
 
 health, and health promotes joy! Good news will give a 
 
 good digestion. The sight of land has cured the scurvy 
 in sailors. And so the head and stomach act and re-act 
 upon each other; the head being king, the stomach a 
 loyal and ever-grateful subject, that bounteously returns 
 all good favours. ‘The .stomach that is well served pro- 
 
 duces a healthy body, in which the healthy mind dwells 
 
 a —-—-“£e ran 
 
= 
 
 Lhe Original. 149 
 
 at ease, and is ever fully alive to all honourable and holy 
 pleasures. On the body in perfect health the mind has 
 perfect control. Then surely the first care of every rational | 
 being should be to put all in order in the mind’s tenement, 
 ‘since the art of attaining high health is that of reaching 
 sound morals and elevated thoughts. No inquiry, however 
 minute, into human diet can be unimportant: a badly 
 cooked dinner, it seems, affects the gaol delivery. I cannot 
 call to mind that our social doctors have ever yet directed 
 their attention to the habitual health of criminals, We 
 have statistics of how many can read and write; but where 
 are the figures showing us how many can digest? In our 
 criminal population, what is the proportion of dyspeptic 
 individuals? You must master the dyspepsia before you 
 can make much impression on the mind or heart. 
 
 A distinction should be carefully made between sound 
 health, and what the world calls a high state of health. 
 Mr. Walker justly observes: “‘What is generally called 
 high health is a pampered state, the result of luxurious 
 or excessive feeding, accompanied by hard or exciting 
 exercise, and such a state is ever on the borders of disease. 
 It is rather the madness or intoxication of health, than 
 health itself, and it has a tincture of many of the dangerous 
 qualities of madness and intoxication.” ‘The shallow are 
 apt to describe the full-blooded country squire, who rides 
 
 hard and eats and drinks hard, who has lungs that can 
 
150 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 shake the window-panes, and muscles that vie in force 
 with those of the donkey, as a man in sound health. He 
 is, however, no more in a condition of sound health than 
 is the agricultural labourer with his ruddy cheeks, who 
 daily wastes more strength than he is able to take in. 
 The condition which we will call the squire’s condition 
 is one in which all the functions are over-taxed. Violent 
 exercise effects the waste of superabundant food. The 
 blood is hot, the mind is feverish. The sleep is that of 
 exhaustion, not of wholesome fatigue. ‘Too much work is 
 got out of the engine. The heavy dinner and the full 
 potations of the evening are worked off by violent exercise 
 on the morrow. The man is ruddy, hearty, boisterous, 
 and will tell you that he never felt in better health in all 
 his days: but he is not in sound health. In an epigram 
 in favour of the Welsh nectar (mead), which I have seen 
 quoted as a specimen of the pennillion, or “ poetical 
 blossom,” the two kinds of health are suggested :— 
 ‘‘ Nectar of the bees, not Bacchus, here behold : 
 Which British bards were wont to quaff of old. 
 
 The berries of the grape with Furies swell, 
 But in the honeycomb the Muses dwell.” 
 
 The Furies course in the veins of the hunting squire ; 
 the Muses dwell with him who, having studied the measures 
 of food and drink which leave the cool head master of 
 
 the moderate passions, can take the cup halffilled with 
 
oe > 
 .. ¥ 
 ? as 
 LJ -~ 
 } 
 
 The Original, 151 
 
 tea, and spurn the Knowsley ale for table beer. Nectar 
 of bees, rather than of Bacchus, will— 
 ‘Clear up the cloudy foreheads of the great.” 
 
 “Tt is pity,” Mr. Walker observed, ‘one never sees 
 luxuries and simplicity go together, and that people cannot 
 understand that woodcocks and champagne are just as 
 simple as fried bacon and small beer, or a haunch of venison 
 as a leg of mutton; but with delicacies there is always 
 SO much alloy as to take away the true relish.” 
 
 When Mr. Walker resolved that he would enjoy health 
 and part with the suffering and vapours which had obscured 
 the earlier days of his life, he was not prepared to quit 
 the ordinary pleasure-seeking world in which he lived. 
 He had followed his plan of watchful moderation in all 
 things for sixteen years when he said “I have never 
 foregone a single engagement of business or pleasure.” 
 During the sixteen years he had no medical advice, nor 
 took anything by way of medicine. All this time he was 
 an epicure in the finest and brightest sense of the word. 
 No wonder, then, that the volume in which he conveyed 
 his plan of life to the world, three-and-thirty years ago, 
 has been a precious book ever since. Having felt his 
 way to health, through, he admits, many experiments ; 
 which appeared ridiculous to the world, and afterwards to 
 himself, he got up a series of good rules for guidance 
 
 through every hour and event of the day, so that he was 
 
Is 2 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 ready for any accident or contingency. ‘The enemy never 
 
 found him asleep. He laid it down that health depends 
 
 upon diet, exercise, sleep, the state of the mind, and the — 
 
 state of the atmosphere, and on nothing else. He studied 
 himself accordingly, in relation to these five influences. 
 The discipline began the moment his eyelids parted in 
 the morning. He took the air the first thing, before he 
 tasted solid or liquid. Even a few draughts of the open air, 
 when taken regularly as part of the system, produced, he 
 found, a tonic effect. He permitted no kind of unfa- 
 vourable weather to break this rule. The morning gulp 
 of fresh air was to him the indispensable beginning of a 
 healthy day. -Sometimes he would transact business for 
 an hour or so, or take a gentle ride through the air, before 
 breaking his fast; so convinced was he of the virtue of 
 fasting early in the day. He is very urgent in his prayer 
 to others who are unable, or think they are unable (the 
 latter being the more usual predicament), to wholly fast, 
 to take as little solid or fluid early as possible. After the 
 bath, fresh air, and at any rate some little agreeable em- 
 ployment. The English plan of marching direct from the 
 dressing-room to a meat breakfast, diluted with heavy 
 cafe-au-lait, gives the stomach no rest, no opportunity of 
 
 getting a healthy tone for the day’s work. Mr. Walker 
 
 did not reform his breakfast table without considerable per- 
 
 sonal inconvenience. He was assailed with faint cravings— 
 
The Original. 153 
 
 with that disagreeable sensation which is known in cer- 
 tain feminine circles as a sinking. This sinking must 
 not be mistaken for appetite. The stomach is far from 
 being in a condition to digest food. Mr. Walker recom- 
 mends a little spirit of lavender dropped upon a lump of 
 sugar. With this, according to his experience, the reform- 
 atory system in the matter of breakfast may be pursued 
 without inconvenience. An appetite will come after an 
 hour or two. Most people, and certainly the healthiest, 
 have the strongest appetite four or five hours after they 
 have risen. 
 
 Mr. Walker abstained from meat with his breakfast, 
 reserving strong food for the middle of the day ; the 
 time, I repeat, when the appetite is strongest. Above 
 all, be cheerful, be happy, for pleasurable emotions 
 stimulate the salival glands, “hence the wholesomeness 
 of food that is fancied to such a degree as to make the 
 mouth water.” Seated at table, Mr. Walker had his series 
 of precepts boxed and partitioned in his mind, each as 
 ready to his hand as the letters in a compositor’s case. 
 Masticate thoroughly, in a cheerful, composed humour ; 
 and drink in sips. An hour or two after eating, a little 
 more liquid facilitates instead of impeding digestion. 
 Gentle exercise is allowable after meals. Drink beer in a 
 wine glass, in order to maintain the habit of only sipping 
 
 while eating. The drinking being well under control, 
 
154 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 there is no danger of over-eating. The moment the first 
 appetite is satisfied, leave off; and be not tempted by 
 any delicacy to recommence. The table philosopher has 
 a winning way with him, whispering the following into 
 ladies’ ears. The signs of healthy eating under rule, as 
 exhibited in the countenance, are “clearness and smooth- 
 ness of complexion, thinness of lips and nose, no wrinkles 
 under the eyes, the eyes bright, the mouth inclined to a 
 smile, not drawn down with a sour look, as is the case 
 with an overcharged digestion. ‘There should be no full- 
 ness in the under lip, or uneasy sensation when pressed, 
 which is a sure sign of derangement of the stomach. 
 Most especially, the lower part of the nose should have a 
 clear, healthy appearance, not thickened and full of dark 
 clots and inflammatory impurities, as is so frequently to 
 be observed. The difference between a pure state and 
 that of irregular living is so great as to produce in many 
 persons an almost complete change of appearance in 
 expression of countenance and personal attraction; and 
 attention to diet is of the first consequence to those who - 
 wish to improve or retain their looks, as well as to enjoy 
 the perfect possession of their faculties.” 
 
 A pure state rather than an irregular state of living : 
 beauty eating as well as beauty sleeping, will do-more to 
 flatter the personal vanity than all the Madame Rachels 
 
 can do. Health is the best maguzilage. The advice of 
 
The Original. | 155 
 
 Thomas Walker, M.A., late “one of the police magis- 
 trates of the metropolis,” is worth fifty guides to the toilet. 
 Moreover, compliance with his advice tends to beauty of 
 mind as well as of person. | 
 
 The pleasant ways in which a scrupulously-regulated 
 diet affects physical as well as moral man, are infinite. 
 Mr. Walker found that when he ate moderately and had 
 brought himself into sound health, the same shoes were 
 easy which had been tight. He studied a pair of shoes. 
 He had a pair rather smaller than usual, which afforded 
 him the opportunity of making his observations with great 
 accuracy. Having purposely tried excess of diet, he found 
 them so painful as to be unbearable on the feet. But they 
 were perfectly easy and comfortable when he ate only 
 that happy quantity—enough. Our philosopher traces 
 even corns to indigestion. 
 
 While giving the world the benefit of his experiences, 
 Mr. Walker guards himself against being put aside as a 
 ‘morbid yaletudinarian. He says that a little irregularity 
 _ In agreeable company is better than the most observant 
 solitude. He thinks, and proves, that epicurism has un- 
 deservedly “‘rather an ill name.” A broad line divides 
 the epicure from the glutton. The glutton is a gross 
 and excessive feeder, a creature always described in “The 
 Original” with horror and disgust. The epicure is ever a 
 
 most moderate man. He who dwells on the importance of 
 
156 Thomas Walker the Younger. 
 
 half a cup of tea more or less at breakfast, and beseeches 
 
 his reader to avoid the fat or skin’ of meat early in the 
 
 day, is not likely to countenance excess. Health is the 
 
 first essential to the enjoyment of the epicure. He cannot 
 
 taste who is sick. Days begun with scrupulous mode- 
 ration cannot end in excesses. Health is the first aim 
 which the student of healthy diet, as well as of refine- 
 ments in diet, is found to keep before him. Accordingly, 
 Mr. Walker starts with his little treatises on the art of 
 attaining and keeping health, Men and women who 
 have not the discernment to distinguish an ortolan from 
 
 a hedge-sparrow may read these treatises with profit, and 
 
 not be once offended by an admixture of epicurism. 
 
 The first consideration is health. But because this is the 
 first consideration it is not the only one. We have not 
 only to avoid digging our graves with our teeth. The art 
 of living long, indeed, is not a very noble one, unless it 
 is accompanied and supplemented by other and nobler 
 arts. The art of attaining a healthy life is, happily, imse- 
 parable from that of reaching a good life. 
 
 We have before us, then, a man so schooled and prac- 
 tised in the rules which govern health, as to be almost 
 beyond the reach of temptation to excesses of any kind. 
 Is he not to enjoy the good things in the world, he who 
 is best disciplined wholly to enjoy them? Surely he has a 
 
 right to enjoyment as well as health. His palate is cool 
 
 Pa 
 
ROPE ee eine dit Saas ea Seale ac eal ai Pay ee 
 a hee ais ra 
 
 i . es ‘The Original | 157 
 
 _ and delicate, and is he not to este the pleasure which it is 
 capable of affording him? “The different products of the 
 different seasons, and of the different parts of the earth, 
 afford endless proofs ‘of bounty, which it is as unreason- 
 able to reject as to abuse.” The epicure is not to suffer 
 for the sins of the glutton. Because there have been 
 men who have given up the greater part of their life 
 to the pleasures of the table, and who have indulged 
 in these pleasures to excess, giving them a place before 
 and above the higher purposes of life, is the true epi- 
 cure, the moderate man of highly cultivated tastes, who, 
 his daily round of duties finished, can savour with delight 
 the infinite delicacies of flavour which nature has laid 
 
 under the skilled human hand—is he to be condemned 
 as paying undue homage to the flesh? Mr. Walker main- 
 tains that there is a happy mean; and as upon the due 
 regulation of the appetite assuredly depends our physical 
 ‘well-being, and upon this our mental energies, it seems 
 to me that gastronomy is worthy of attention, for reasons 
 of very high importance. Some attention may be given 
 to the pleasures of the table, if only to promote the con- 
 tent and the agreeable emotions which conduce to the 
 healthy assimilation of the food with the body. It is 
 healthy to have that which is agreeable to the palate. 
 Variety is wholesome, content is a medicine, and hence, 
 
 as our own philosopher has it, “it is sound practicable 
 
158 Thomas Walker the VY ounger. 
 
 philosophy to have ree on the table before the 
 arrival of toasted cheese.” 
 
 Mr. Walker laboured both at Stretford, and as a London 
 police magistrate, to apply his Poor Law principles, and 
 with remarkable effect. It was after the publication of his’ 
 striking pamphlet on pauperism that he was appointed 
 a stipendiary magistrate in Whitechapel by Sir Robert 
 Peel. He was afterwards, as I have already stated, trans- 
 ferred to Lambeth, where he remained till his premature 
 death in Brussels in January, 18 36. 
 
 It is curious that he who wrote so well on the art of 
 attaining high health should have died from self-neglect. His 
 brother, writing from Spring Gardens (February 6, 1836) 
 to a relative, says : ‘‘EHdmund and I returned yesterday 
 after having paid the last and painful attentions to the 
 remains of my poor brother. It was a lamentable thing 
 that he did not take more care of himself, and take medical 
 advice ; indeed, I think if he had been bled copiously on 
 the Tuesday his life might have been saved, but could not 
 have been much prolonged without the greatest care, as 
 both his lungs and liver were very seriously affected. For 
 the short time he was at Brussels he appears to have been 
 much esteemed by all those who knew him there. He was 
 
 collecting materials for the continuance of his work.” 
 
ea BOOK III. 
 mer ORIGINAL. 
 
 BY THOMAS WALKER, M.A., 
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 BARRISTER-AT-LAW AND ONE OF THE POLICE MAGISTRATES OF THE METROPOLIS. 
 
 No. I.] WEDNESDAY, MAY 20, 1835. [PRIcE 3d. 
 
 PRELIMINARY ADDRESS. 
 DEAR READER, 
 
 I ADDRESS you without ceremony, because I do not like 
 ceremony, and because I hope we shall soon be on intimate 
 terms. I have long meditated this mode of introducing 
 myself to your acquaintance, from a belief that it might 
 be for our mutual advantage; for mine, by furnishing a 
 constant and interesting stimulus to my faculties of obser- 
 vation and reflection ; for yours, by setting before you an 
 alterative diet of sound and comfortable doctrines blended 
 with innoxious amusement. 
 
 It is my purpose to treat, as forcibly, perspicuously, 
 and concisely as each subject and my own ability will 
 allow, of whatever is most interesting and important in 
 Religion and Politics, in Morals and Manners, and in our 
 
 Wii. Ls M 
 
162 The Original. 
 
 Habits and Customs. Besides my graver discussions, I 
 shall present you with original anecdotes, narratives, and 
 miscellaneous matters, and with occasional extracts from 
 other authors, just as I think I can most contribute to 
 your instruction or amusement ; and even my lightest 
 articles I shall, as often as I am able, make subservient 
 to the illustration of some sound principle, or the enforce- 
 ment of some useful precept—at the same time rejecting 
 nothing as too trifling, provided it can excite in’ you an 
 antibilious sensation, however slight. 
 
 Aloof from sect and party, my chief and steady aim 
 will be to satisfy the wants of those who thirst after the 
 truth, and to excite a love of it, where a love of it does 
 not now exist. Certain it is, the vast majority of human 
 kind pass through life in ignorance of its inspirations. 
 They flatter themselves indeed to the contrary, if they only 
 do not wantonly quit its path, or if in their zig-zag course 
 they sometimes cross or deviate into it, as party, sect, or 
 narrow interest leads them; but alas! by the pure love of 
 truth their actions are never guided. As long as the truth 
 suits their purpose—well; but the moment it does not 
 they shut their eyes, or turn away. Look wherever you 
 please—in public or in private—and you will find that it is 
 so. Yet our holy religion again and again commands, 
 and our worldly welfare, properly understood, unceasingly 
 
 requires, that we love and follow the truth. 
 
Principles of Government. 163 
 
 In conclusion I must tell you, that with regard to 
 pecuniary profit as an author, I estimate that as I do 
 popularity in my capacity of magistrate. A desire for 
 * popularity has no influence on my decisions; a desire for 
 profit will have none on my writings. I hunt neither after 
 one nor the other. If they follow as consequences of a 
 - patient and fearless perseverance in the establishment of 
 right,—well and good; I value them on no other terms. 
 I aspire in my present undertaking to set an example 
 towards raising the national tone in whatever concerns us 
 socially or individually ; and to this end I shall labour 
 to develop the truth, and seasonably to present it in a 
 form as intelligible and attractive to all ages and conditions 
 as lies in my power. 
 
 I have given you my name and additions, that you may 
 be the better able to judge what credit I am entitled to 
 in respect to the different subjects of which I may treat, 
 and as the best security against the license which authors 
 writing anonymously, even when known, are but too apt 
 
 to allow themselves. 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 By the Democratic principle, I mean the principle of 
 popular government fitly organised. 
 By the Ochlocratic principle, I mean the principle of 
 
 mob government, or government by too large masses. 
 M 2 
 
164 | The Original. 
 
 By the Oligarchic principle, I mean the principle of 
 exclusive government, or government by too few. 
 
 The Democratic principle is the fundamental principle 
 of English government, and upon its effective operation 
 depend the purity and vigour of the body politic. ‘This 
 principle has a tendency in two different directions, and 
 constant watchfulness and skill are required to preserve 
 it in its full force. Unless its application is varied as 
 population increases, 1t becomes in practice either oligar- 
 chical or ochlocratical; oligarchical, for. instance, in the 
 ancient corporations of thriving towns, and ochlocratical. 
 -in increasing parishes with open vestries. 
 
 The Oligarchic principle tends to make those who attain 
 power, tenacious, arbitrary, and corrupt; those who wish 
 for it, discontented and envious, and the rest fatally indif- 
 ferent. Hence our long-standing and fierce party struggles 
 on questions of reform—hence the ochlocratic principle so 
 slowly called into action, and hence the headlong conse- 
 quences ; all of which evils would have been entirely 
 prevented, had the democratic principle been duly kept, 
 or put in operation. 
 
 Ochlocracy (which is derived from two Greek words 
 signifying mob-government) is the most inquisitorial, dicta- 
 torial, and disgusting of all governments, and its tendency 
 is to despotism as a more tolerable form of tyranny. It 
 
 is an unwieldy monster, more potent in the tail than in 
 
Principles of Government. 165 
 
 the head, and is hardly stimulated to action but by the 
 garbage or trash thrown to it by the base or the weak 
 for their own base or weak purposes. 
 
 Notwithstanding almost all our institutions have from 
 time to time been neglected, or unskilfully reformed, yet 
 ‘the original democratic principle has still been there ; and 
 it is that principle, however weakened or obscured, which 
 has preserved our constitution as a blessing to ourselves 
 and an example to others, through barbarous ages, through 
 the most violent political and religious storms, amidst the 
 desolation of civil wars, and under the weakest and most 
 arbitrary of our monarchs. ‘This consideration should 
 excite in us the most jealous care of a principle to which 
 we owe so much, and through which alone we and posterity 
 can derive all the benefits of increasing civilisation. Such 
 care is the more necessary, as a foreign principle, called 
 the principle of Centralisation, is creeping in amongst 
 us; a principle chiefly cried up by men who are totally 
 ignorant of the efficacy of the democratic principle—men 
 who, with strange inconsistency, are perpetually calling out 
 for popular enlightenment, whilst they are striving with 
 all their might to take away popular power, except, indeed, 
 so far as it may be made available for party purposes— 
 men who contemptuously turn from the practical wisdom 
 of their own free and noble institutions to the theories and 
 
 devices of novices in liberty, or proficients in despotism ; 
 
very Ae as 
 
 166 The Original. 
 
 as if France and Prussia were fit examples for the imitation — 
 of Britain. , 
 
 There are two vices inherent in the centralisation prin- 
 ciple, which are quite sufficient to render it odious to all 
 true Englishmen. In the first place, it must necessarily 
 create a tribe of subordinate traders in government, who, 
 with whatever English feelings they might set out, must, 
 from the nature of things, they or their successors, become 
 arbitrary, vexatious, and selfish. In the second place, as 
 it would deprive the citizens of the invigorating moral 
 exercise of managing their common affairs, it would soon 
 justly expose them to the reproach of that Roman emperor, 
 who to certain Grecian deputies, claiming for their country 
 a restoration of political privileges, made this bitter answer, 
 ‘The Greeks have forgotten how to be free.” Freedom, 
 like health, can only be preserved by exercise, and that 
 exercise becomes more necessary as a nation becomes more 
 rich. The inevitable tendency of the centralisation prin- 
 ciple, like the ochlocratic, though more insidiously, is to 
 despotism. The first is the favourite of those who call 
 themselves Liberals, and the last of the Radicals. 
 
 The democratic principle has the most stability, and is 
 the only one under which perfect freedom can exist. The 
 oligarchic, which is the Tory principle, is more stable than 
 the ochlocratic, and is less unfavourable to liberty. The 
 
 democratic is the real conservative principle, and the 
 
e, Principles of Government. 167 
 
 ochlocratic the real destructive. The democratic principle 
 works the best men to the top—the oligarchic the most 
 selfish—the ochlocratic the most profligate and pretending, 
 whilst it throws into utter obscurity the honest and the wise. 
 The democratic principle tends to make manners frank, 
 noble, and disciplined; the oligarchic makes them arti- 
 ficial and insipid, and the ochlocratic brutal. The three 
 principles exhibit all their characteristics in a greater or 
 less degree wherever they operate, from a parish vestry 
 to the House of Commons, and in every class of society. 
 
 The aristocratic principle having no real existence in 
 this country, except in the hereditary branch of the Legisla- 
 ture, and having nothing to do with executive and subor- 
 dinate government, it does not come within my purpose to 
 notice it. 
 
 I shall hereafter take occasion to enter into a full 
 exposition of the details of democratic government as 
 applicable to parishes, towns, and counties ; thence endea- 
 vouring to arrive at the true principles of representation, 
 which are certainly not discoverable in our present semi- 
 ochlocratic state, or state of transition only, let us hope, 
 from oligarchical predominance. I have said that the 
 oligarchic is the Tory principle ; and, I may add, the Whig 
 also, except when it is made to give way to the ochlocratic 
 for the sake of getting or retaining power. Would that we 
 
 might but see some statesmen shake off the shackles of 
 
168 The Original. 
 
 party “like dew-drops from the lion’s mane,” and, despising 
 the craft of government, patriotically stand forth the 
 champions of democracy in its proper sense of popular or 
 self-government fitly organised ! Then should we see faction 
 wither and die, and in its place, public spirit and public 
 purity raise England to the highest pitch of ‘national 
 greatness. 
 
 Reader, think of these things—divest yourself of pre- 
 judice, and apply what I have said to present circumstances. 
 I will in a future number give you a captivating example 
 
 from ancient history of the true spirit of government.* 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE MERCHANT. 
 
 Wisdom is the Science of Life.—In the capital of an 
 eastern kingdom lived, many years since, Seid Ali, a man 
 so devoted to science that he neglected everything else. 
 He had made many profound and important discoveries, 
 of which others had availed themselves to obtain distinction 
 and wealth—whilst he was passing the meridian of life, 
 his patrimony spent in experiments, his health impaired 
 by study, his temper soured by neglect. He had for a 
 
 neighbour and acquaintance Ghulam Hassan, known 
 
 * The Original, when it first appeared, sold about 1,000 copies 
 weekly ; and when, on the death of Mr, Walker, the series was issued 
 in a volume, a thousand copies were sold, immediately on the ap- 
 pearance of a notice in the Zimes by Mr. Hayward. 
 
‘The Philosopher and the Merchant. 169 
 
 | throughout the city by the appellation of the Honest 
 Merchant. Hassan had begun the world with very little 
 education and no money, but in recompense he had a 
 straightforward understanding, quick observation, a very 
 agreeable frankness of manner, and a heart without guile. 
 Consequently he was universally courted, and though much 
 given to hospitality and the performance of very generous 
 acts, he had amassed a considerable fortune. To him in 
 his extremity Seid disclosed all his griefs. When he had 
 finished— 
 
 “T have a few friends coming to sup with me this even- 
 ing,” said Hassan; “be of the party, and when they are 
 
 gone, we will talk of your affairs. In the mean time, take 
 | this purse for present exigencies. I will enable you soon to 
 repay me. Howit is to be done, I will endeavour to devise 
 before we meet again. Only keep up your spirits, and all 
 shall be well.” | 
 
 Kind intentions need no preface. The moment the 
 guests were gone, Hassan began thus :— 
 
 “You see, my friend, you have kept yourself so much in 
 your study, that yours is the fame of a dead man. You 
 have caused vast benefits to be derived to the world, but 
 the world has scarcely seen you, and, of course, never thinks 
 of rewarding your merits. To remedy your error, I have 
 planned a frolic, if you are not too proud to play your part 
 
 in it; but I have observed, almost every man must stoop to 
 
170 The Original. | 
 
 rise, and happy he who can do so without-dishonour. You 
 remember our going this time two years to my little country 
 place, near that singularity amongst us, the ancient aqueduct. 
 I cannot tell you how much I was struck with your conjec- 
 tures as to its origin, and your observations on its construc- 
 tion and materials. Now the old man who used to occupy 
 my house and accompany visitors to the ruins, is lately dead, 
 and what I propose is, that you should disguise yourself and | 
 take his place. You know what an extensive acquaintance 
 I have, and the terms upon which I live with them. I will 
 take care to make parties to the aqueduct, and you in a 
 homely garb shall be their guide. Everything strikes by 
 contrast, and a man of your attainments in such a situation 
 cannot, by possibility, fail soon to attract sufficient notice to 
 accomplish all you desire.” 
 
 “T do not know—” said Seid, despondingly— 
 
 “‘T dare say you do not,” interrupted Hassan, “but you 
 know this, that with my little knowledge I have gained a 
 fortune, and that with all yours you have lost one. In 
 matters of science,” continued he, bending low with unaf- 
 fected homage, “I kiss the very ground you walk upon, but 
 in practical matters you must put faith in me. Well- 
 grounded faith, my friend, take the word of a successful 
 man, has great virtue in other things besides religion. To- 
 morrow I will arrange everything—not another word—good 
 
 night, and may Heaven give you your deserts !” 
 
Te oe oo ole Vale a - 
 ‘ pe. y N ‘ 
 
 The Philosopher and the Merchant. 171 
 
 Experience shows that those who have fallen into a wrong 
 _ train frequently meet with nothing but an unbroken series 
 - of adverse circumstances. Let them but change their course, 
 and the exact reverse becomes the case’; everything turns to 
 account. Just so it was with Seid. Being duly installed in 
 his new office, his altered way of life quickly produced so 
 great a change in his appearance, health, and spirits, that he 
 scarcely needed any further disguise ; and he felt, moreover, 
 a degree of confidence in himself, of which previously he 
 had no idea. Hassan made frequent parties on his account ; 
 and his fame spread so fast, that a visit to the aqueduct soon 
 came into great vogue. As good fortune would have it, 
 the Vizier himself, who used from time to time to pass an 
 evening with Hassan in the disguise of a brother merchant, 
 sent at this conjuncture notice of his approach. He found 
 in Hassan’s company an agreeable relaxation from the cares 
 of government and the sophistications of the world ; besides 
 which, he had looked in vain for any other man upon whose 
 information and integrity he could implicitly rely. Hassan 
 availed himself of the opportunity to induce the Vizier to 
 accompany him on an early day to his country place, and 
 he informed Seid that he was bringing a friend, with whom 
 he particularly wished him to be well. The Vizier, though 
 not scientific, delighted in the conversation of scientific men, 
 and he had not long listened to Seid before he remarked to 
 
 Hassan, “‘ It strikes me this is a very extraordinary person. 
 
142 | The Original. 
 
 We are alone; is there any objection to his supping with 
 us P” 
 “Tf it be your pleasure, none,” said Hassan. 
 The scene around the house was lovely, the air cool and 
 fragrant, the repast simple and refined, and without any 
 
 state. ‘The Vizier was in the best possible humour ; and 
 
 Seid, pleased with so acute and polished a hearer, rose 
 
 above himself, till at last Hassan, suddenly bursting into 
 a fit of laughter, cried out— 
 
 ‘Pardon me, but I can resist no longer.” : 
 
 Then rising up, he gravely added— 
 
 “‘T have extreme satisfaction in this opportunity of pre- 
 senting to his highness the Vizier the philosopher Seid 
 Ali.” The surprise of the two was great, and the pleasure 
 mutual. Hassan then related the history of the whole 
 affair, and it will easily be supposed that from that time 
 ample justice was done to the merits of his friend, and 
 would have been to his own, but his reply to the Vizier’s 
 intimation was, ‘‘Whatever your goodness intends for me, 
 bestow on Seid. He deserves everything, and I want 
 
 nothing.” 
 
 THE ALBUNEAN LAKE. 
 
 To the left of the road from Rome to Tivoli, and nearer 
 the latter, lies the Albunean Lake, insignificant as to extent, 
 
 but interesting from its classical associations. ‘The water 
 
The A Wapenn Lake. 173 
 
 resembles warm soapsuds, and sends forth a most noisome 
 
 sulphureous vapour. Islets of weeds sometimes detach 
 
 - themselves from the sides, and are said to present a 
 
 remarkable appearance as they are moved about on the 
 constant bubbling surface. Virgil describes the lake as 
 shaded by a sacred grove, and as having a communication 
 with the infernal regions. This fiction must have been 
 readily believed in the days of heathen poetry; for Sir 
 William Gell, in his Topography of Rome and its Vicinity, 
 ‘observes, “The rocky crust of the margin probably covers 
 an unfathomable abyss, for a stone thrown into the lake 
 occasions in its descent so violent a discharge of carbonic 
 acid gas, and for so long a time, as to give the idea of an 
 immense depth of water.” He adds, “The sulphureous 
 smell is so strong, that when the wind assists, it has some- 
 times been perceived in the highest parts of Rome”—a 
 distance, I should think, of from ten to fifteen miles. The 
 grove mentioned by Virgil is now reduced to a few stunted 
 trees, standing on a sterile plain covered with unsightly 
 -weeds. The scene is strikingly desolate and disagreeable. 
 In the spring of 1822 I-visited it in company with two 
 friends. We walked round the lake, leaving our horses 
 in charge of a courier. As we were on the point of 
 remounting, one of the party called our attention to some- 
 thing emerging from the weeds on the opposite side. For 
 
 a moment he supposed it to be one of the floating islets, 
 
174. The Original. 
 
 of which he had just been speaking, and we paused to 
 
 observe it. We were, however, soon convinced that it 
 
 was a living being; but as we could literally see nothing © 
 
 but a pair of distended nostrils moving through the water, 
 and two large eyes at a distance behind them, we were 
 utterly at a loss to conjecture to what they could by pos- 
 sibility belong. 
 
 The monster was evidently making towards us, and 
 when about the middle of the lake, it raised two very 
 long, dark, shaggy ears, as if by way of attracting our 
 attention, and then suddenly let them sink. The horses 
 started, and we stood in silent amaze. Again the ears 
 were raised, and again let fall. I do not know how I 
 looked, but throwing a glance on one of my companions, 
 who was of a florid complexion, I saw he had become as 
 pale as death; and I told him afterwards I was sure that, 
 for the moment, he was not far from believing in the 
 poet’s account. At length we discovered the object of 
 our wonder to be a young ass, nearly black, which, having 
 fallen into the lake, and being unable to get out, was 
 on the point of perishing. In its extremity it had the 
 sense to make towards us for assistance, but in such an 
 
 exhausted state, as only just to be able to keep its nos- 
 
 trils and eyes above the water as it slowly swam, and 
 
 we had great difficulty in helping it to land. Certainly 
 
 I never experienced anything like so much perplexity as 
 
+, -_—. 
 
 Sayings. 175 
 
 q 4 Y 
 from this extraordinary combination of such an incident 
 
 with such a scene, and had the animal sunk before we 
 
 had ascertained what it was, regard for my credit would 
 
 _ have prevented me from ever mentioning the occurrence. 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 Life without some necessity for exertion must ever lack 
 
 real interest. ‘That state is capable of the greatest enjoy- 
 
 ment, where necessity urges, but not painfully; where 
 effort is required, but as much as possible without anxiety ; 
 where the spring and summer of life are preparatory to 
 the harvest of autumn and the repose of winter. Then 
 is every season sweet, and in a well-spent life the last 
 the best—the season of calm enjoyment, the richest in 
 recollections, the brightest in hope. Good training and 
 a fair start constitute a more desirable patrimony than 
 wealth; and those parents who study their children’s 
 welfare rather than the gratification of their own avarice 
 or vanity, would do well to think of this. Is it better 
 to run a successful race, or to begin and end at the 
 
 goal ? 
 
 SAYINGS. 
 
 Take care, or care will take you. 
 A little method is worth a great deal of. memory. 
 
 The flatterers of kings and princes have ever been held 
 
176 | : Lhe Original. 
 
 in deserved hatred and contempt. In this country they 
 
 seem nearly to have had their day, but their successors, 
 
 the courtiers of the people, are equally contemptible, and 
 
 much more pernicious. | 
 
 The art of government is the most difficult, the noblest, 
 and the most important of all arts, and it is the most 
 inefficiently practised and the least understood. Well 
 might the Chancellor of Sweden say to his son, ‘‘ You 
 
 know not with how little wisdom the world is governed !” 
 
 4 
 
 LOCKE’S OPINION OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 The Gospel contains so perfect a body of ethics, that 
 Reason may be excused from the inquiry, since she may 
 find man’s duty clearer and easier in revelation than in 
 
 herself —Letter to Molyneux, March 30th, 1696. 
 
 ANECDOTE OF DUNNING. 
 
 I once heard Horne Tooke relate the following anecdote 
 illustrative of the personal appearance of Dunning, Lord 
 
 Ashburton, who was the most celebrated lawyer of his day. 
 
 When it was the custom for barristers to leave chambers 
 
 early, and to finish their evenings at the coffee-houses in 
 the neighbourhood of the inns of court, Lord Thurlow on 
 
 some occasion wanted to see Dunning privately. He went 
 
 to the coffee-house frequented by him, and asked a waiter if — 
 
 “ 
 
 ao 
 
Bh | e ‘ , ° “ ° i 
 inning was nae The waiter, who was new in his 
 
 said he did not know him. “Not know him !” 
 
 med Thurlow, with his usual oaths “ go into the 
 
 | s of c clubs, tell him he is particularly wanted.” The waiter 
 , Re ae 
 he eal up, and forthwith re-appeared, followed by Dunning. 
 
 24 : Notice I purpose ere long to enter upon three subjects 
 
 Bods 
 of interest and importance :—the art of dining and giving 
 - dinners ; the art of travelling ; ; and the art of attaining high 
 
 ¢ health—all from experience. 
 Sa 
 
 * 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 VoL. I. N 
 
No. II.] WEDNESDAY, MAY 27, 1835. [PRicE 3d. 
 
 REMARKS ON THE LIFE OF NUMA. 
 
 In a previous article I promised to give a captivating 
 example from ancient history of the true spirit of govern- 
 ment. As the best preparation of the minds of my readers 
 for the doctrines I hold, I think I cannot do better than 
 give it now. It is an extract from a sort of schoolboy 
 translation, though not without merit, of Plutarch’s Life of 
 Numa Pompilius, published under Dryden’s name. In 
 point of matter it is to me of exquisite sweetness and 
 beauty, surpassing anything I am acquainted with. I am 
 aware that latterly it has become the fashion to doubt the 
 authenticity of such accounts, and to accompany doubts 
 with sneers; but, according to my idea of human nature, 
 there is in the following narration a much greater air of 
 truth than of fiction, and the long career of Roman great- 
 ness, 1n war and peace, seems to me the strongest confir- 
 
 mation of the received accounts of the respective characters 
 
 of Romulus and Numa—just as Athenian greatness may 
 
 most naturally be attributed to Solon, that of Sparta to 
 Lycurgus, and our own to the admirable Alfred, each 
 government taking its impress from the character of its 
 
 principal organiser. They who doubt such causes of un- 
 
 .S 
 
ee ee eee eee. TY, 
 ieiad Y : 
 
 Life of Numa. 179 
 
 deniable results, involve themselves in greater difficulties ; 
 as Grotius says of those who disbelieve the miracles of the 
 Christian religion, that to suppose its long continuance and 
 wide spread accomplished by other means, is to suppose 
 a greater miracle than all. We may say of this Life of 
 Numa what Fox in his History adds after the description of 
 a virtuous character—Who would not wish it to be true? 
 There is indeed somewhat prevalent now a base minded- 
 ness, a sort of Satanic envy and dislike of superiority, which 
 makes many turn away from the contemplation of what 
 
 is good and great—but let us hope for better times. 
 
 LIFE OF NUMA. 
 
 Numa was endued with a soul rarely tempered by nature 
 and disposed to virtue, and excellently improved by learn- 
 ing, patience, and the studies of philosophy; by which 
 advantages he had utterly extirpated not only all such 
 disorderly motions of the mind as are universally esteemed 
 vile and mean, but even all inclination to violence and 
 oppression, which had once an honourable esteem amongst 
 the barbarous nations, being persuaded that there was no 
 other fortitude than that which subdued the affections, and 
 reduced them to the terms and restraints of reason. ' 
 
 Upon this account, whilst he banished all luxury and 
 
 softness from his own home, and offered his best assistance 
 
 N 2 
 
180 The Original. 
 
 to any citizen or stranger that would make use of him, in 
 nature of an upright judge or faithful counsellor, and made 
 use of what leisure hours he had to himself, not in pursuit 
 of pleasure, or acquisition of profit and wealth, but in the 
 worship of the immortal gods, and in the rational con- 
 templation of their divine power and nature, his name grew 
 so very famous, that Tatius, who was Romulus’ associate in 
 the kingdom of Rome, chose to make him his son-in-law, 
 bestowing upon him his only daughter Tatia. Nor did the 
 advantage of this marriage swell his vanity to such a pitch 
 as to make him desire to dwell with his father-in-law at — 
 Rome, but rather to content himself to inhabit with his 
 Sabines, and cherish his own father in his old age. The 
 like inclinations had Tatia, who preferred the private con- 
 dition of her husband before the honours and splendour 
 she might have enjoyed at her father’s Court. ‘This Tatia, 
 as is reported, after she had lived for the space of thirteen 
 years with Numa in conjugal society, died; and then 
 Numa, leaving the conversation of the town, betook himself 
 to a country life, and in a solitary manner frequented the 
 groves and fields consecrated to the gods, making his usual 
 abode in desert places. 
 
 He was about forty years of age when the ambassadors 
 came from Rome to make him offers of the kingdom. . . . 
 Their speech was very short, as supposing that Numa 
 
 would gladly have embraced so favourable an opportunity 
 
ee Te RAMI Toe? acres AE Sern ate ey ep r or 
 . ts Sy, \ Ma q ‘ < 7 - ) 
 ; a le ; 
 
 Life of Numa: 181 
 
 of advancement. But it seems it was no such easy matter 
 to persuade him ; for, contrary to their expectations, they 
 found that they were forced to use many reasons and 
 entreaties to allure him from his quiet and retired life to 
 accept the government of a city, whose foundation was laid 
 in war, and had grown up in martial exercises. . . . 
 
 As soon as he was determined by their persuasions and 
 reasons, joined by those of his father and his kinsman 
 | Martius, and of his own citizens, (having first done sacrifice — 
 to the gods,) he set forward towards Rome, being met 
 in his way by the Senate and people, who expressed a 
 marvellous desire to receive him. The women also wel- 
 comed him with joyful acclamations, and sacrifices were 
 offered for him in alli the temples; and so universal was 
 the joy, that the city seemed not to receive a king, but 
 
 the addition of a new kingdom. | 
 
 The first thing that he did at his entrance into govern- 
 ment was to dismiss the band of three hundred men 
 which Romulus constantly kept for his life-guard ; for he 
 did not think it reasonable to show any distrust of those 
 who had placed so much confidence in him, nor to rule 
 over people that durst not trust him... . 
 
 When Numa had thus insinuated himself into the favour 
 and affections of the people, he began to dispose the 
 humour of the city (which as yet was obdurate, and ren- 
 
 dered hard as iron by war) to become more gentle and 
 
182 The Original. 
 
 pliable by the applications of humanity and justice. It — 
 
 was then, if ever, that Rome was really such a city as 
 Plato styles “a city in a high ferment”; for, from its very 
 original, it was a receptacle of the most daring and warlike 
 spirits, whom some bold and desperate adventurer had 
 driven thither from every quarter; and by frequent incur- 
 sions made upon its neighbours, and continual wars, it 
 had grown up and increased its power, and now seemed 
 strong and settled by encountering dangers, as piles driven 
 into the ground become more fixed and stable by the 
 impulse and blows which the rammer lays upon them. 
 Wherefore Numa, judging that it was the masterpiece of 
 his art to mollify and bend the stubborn and inflexible 
 spirits of this people, began to call in the assistance of 
 the gods: for most commonly by sacrifices, processions, 
 and religious dances which he appointed, and in which he 
 officiated in person, (which had always some diverting 
 exercise and pleasing entertainment mixed with their 
 solemn devotion,) he soothed the minds of the people, 
 
 and rendered their fiery, martial temper more cool and 
 
 Numa forbade the Romans to represent God in the 
 form of man or beast; nor was there any painted or: 
 graven image of a deity admitted among them formerly ; 
 but for the space of the first one hundred and sixty years 
 
 they built temples and erected chapels, but made no 
 
 | 
 
 1 
 
Life of Numa. 183. 
 
 statue or image, as thinking it a great impiety to represent 
 
 the most excellent beings by things so base and unworthy ; 
 
 there being no possible access to the Deity but by the ~ 
 mind raised and elevated by divine contemplation. 
 
 The portion of lands which belonged to the city of 
 Rome at the beginning was very narrow; but Romulus by 
 war enlarged it very much. Now all this land Numa 
 divided amongst the indigent part of the citizens, that by 
 these means he might keep them from extreme want, which 
 is the necessary cause of men’s injuring one another, and 
 might turn the minds of the people to husbandry, whereby 
 themselves, as well as their land, would become better. 
 cultivated and more tractable. For there is no way of life, 
 that either so soon or so powerfully produces the love of 
 peace, as the life of husbandry, whereby so much warlike 
 courage is preserved, as enables men to fight in defence of 
 what is their own, but all boldness in acts of injustice and 
 encroachment upon others is restrained and destroyed. 
 Wherefore Numa, that he might take and amuse the hearts 
 of his citizens with agriculture or husbandry, choosing it for 
 them as an employment that rather begets civility and a 
 peaceable temper than great opulency and riches, divided 
 all the lands into several parcels, to which he gave the name 
 of Pagus or Borough, and over each of them he appointed 
 overseers, and such as should go about to inspect them. 
 
 And sometimes he would himself, in person, take a survey 
 
184 The Original. 
 
 of them ; and making a judgment of every man’s inclinations © 
 and manners by his industry, and the improvements he had 
 made, he preferred those to honours and authority, who had 
 merited most, and, on the contrary, reproaching and chiding 
 the sluggishness of such as had given themselves over toa 
 careless and negligent life, he reduced them to better order. 
 But among all his political institutions, that which is most 
 admired is his distribution of the people into companies 
 according to their several arts and professions. For whereas 
 the city did consist of, or rather was distinguished into, two 
 kinds of people, and could not by any means be united, it 
 being impossible to efface the strangeness and difference 
 between them, but that there would be perpetual clashing 
 and contention of the two parties, Numa, having considered 
 that hard bodies, and such as are not easily incorporated so 
 long as they remain in their gross bulk, by being beaten 
 into a powder, or reduced into small atoms, are often 
 cemented and consolidated into one, determined to divide 
 the whole people into many lesser parts, and from thence, 
 by casting them into other distinctions, to abolish that first 
 and great distinction, which was thus scattered into smaller 
 parts. This distribution was made according to the several 
 arts or trades, of musicians, goldsmiths, masons, dyers, 
 shoemakers, tanners, braziers, and potters; and all other 
 handicraftsmen he composed and reduced into a single 
 
 company, appointing unto every one their respective halls, 
 
Life of Numa. 185 
 
 courts, and ceremonies of religion proper to their several 
 societies. Thus it was that he first banished out of the city 
 the custom of calling and reputing one a Sabine, another a 
 Roman, one a partisan of Tatius, another. of Romulus; so 
 that this distribution became the means of well uniting and 
 mixing all of them perfectly together. ..... 
 
 During the reign of Numa the temple of Janus was never 
 _ seen open one day, but continued constantly shut for forty- 
 three years together; so entire a cessation of all kind of 
 war was there on all sides. For not only the people of 
 Rome were tamed, and as it were charmed, by the just and 
 mild government of their Prince, but even the neighbouring 
 cities round about, as if some gentle breeze or salubrious 
 air had blown from Rome upon them, began to change their 
 temper; and a general inclination to peace and good 
 government was infused into all, so that every one applied 
 ‘himself to the management of his lands and farm, to the 
 quiet education of his shildren, and worship of the gods. 
 Festival days and pleasant banquets, mutual benevolence 
 and kind entertainment of friends visiting and conversing 
 freely with each other, without fear or jealousy, were the 
 comnion practice over all Italy, while from Numa’s wisdom, 
 as from a fountain, a universal honesty and justice flowed 
 upon all, and his calm tranquillity diffused itself around 
 every way. So that the high and hyperbolical expressions 
 of the poets are said to fall short in describing the happy 
 
pee Ee eee eee 
 
 186 The Original. 
 
 state of those days. For during the whole reign of Numa 
 there was neither war, nor sedition, nor innovation designed 
 against the State, nor even so much as any enmity or envy 
 to the person of the Prince, nor was there any plot or 
 conspiracy out of ambitious design to oust him of his 
 government. But either the fear of the gods, who seemed 
 to take a particular care of his person, or a reverence for 
 his virtue, or divine good fortune, which during his time 
 kept men’s lives free and pure from all such wickedness, 
 then produced an effectual instance and proof of the truth 
 of that opinion of Plato, which he ventured to deliver many 
 ages after, in relation to a well-formed commonwealth, viz., 
 “That the only means to cause a true cessation or cure of 
 evil among men must be from some divine conjuncture of 
 fortune, when royal authority, meeting with a philosophical 
 mind in the same person, shall put virtue in a state of power 
 and authority over vice.” For the wise man is truly happy; 
 and happy also are they who can hear and receive the words 
 which flow from the mouth of a wise man. Possibly there 
 would be no need of compulsion or menaces to subject the 
 multitude ; but that when they see virtue in a clear and 
 shining instance manifested in the life of their prince they 
 would freely of themselves grow wise, and conform them- 
 selves to an innocent and happy life, in friendship and 
 mutual concord, with justice and moderation, wherein con- 
 
 sists the noblest end of all political government, and that 
 
: Life of Numa. 187 
 
 prince is of all others most worthy of royal authority who 
 can bring to effect such a life and such a disposition in his 
 subjects. Now this is what Numa seems to have had 
 constantly in his view more than any other man....... 
 
 Numa’s death was neither sharp nor sudden, but being 
 gradually worn away with old age and gentle sickness, he 
 at last ended his days a little above fourscore years old. 
 That which made all the glories of his life consummate 
 was the honour paid to him at his funeral, when all the 
 people that were in alliance and amity with him met to- 
 gether at his interment, with public presents and garlands. 
 The senators carried the bier, on which his corpse was laid, 
 and the priests followed and accompanied the solemn pro- 
 cession. All the rest of the train, among which were a 
 great number of women and children, followed with such 
 lamentable sighs and tears, not as if they assisted at the 
 burial of an aged, worn-out king, but rather as if each of 
 them had then buried his dearest relative in the flower of 
 
 his age. 
 
 FROM THE COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS. 
 
 Thus much of Numa was truly great and god-like, that 
 though an alien, he was thought worthy to be courted to 
 come and take the Crown—that he altered the whole frame 
 of the Government by mere persuasion, and that he kept the 
 
 absolute rule over a city consisting of two parties not yet 
 
room, The Original, 
 
 well compacted, which he did without any occasion to make 
 use of arms, or any sort of force; but by mere dint of 
 wisdom and justice brought every one to concur entirely 
 
 with him, and settled a perfect harmony among them. 
 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 In these our days, we travel from London to York, with 
 great rapidity, in perfect personal security, without accident, 
 without even a jolt, and never stopped by flood, or frost, 
 or snow. The reason is because the money and labour 
 expended have been expended in making a good road, 
 instead of providing against the defects of a bad one. ‘This 
 is an apt emblem of wise government, directing its means to 
 proper ends, and keeping pace with the times ; all then goes 
 on simply and well. But now let us suppose the road from 
 London to York left as it was five hundred years ago, and 
 passing through morasses and forests, and over desert moors. 
 What loss of time, what uncertainty, what annoyances, what 
 
 dangers, what impediments, what expense of horses and 
 
 carriages and living, would then be the consequences !—_ 
 
 What smiths, what wheelwrights, what surgeons, what rob- 
 bers, what beggars, what guards, would be found along the 
 line! What inns for travellers, what hospitals for accidents, 
 what refuges for the poor, what stations for police, would 
 border the now cultivated and smiling country! What 
 
 botching and patching, and what expedients there would be! 
 
oo Oe 2 en eee Tee 4 me, Te oe ) Aa ie lel 
 pa 4 * 
 \ ‘ y* f t 
 
 Government. 189 
 
 What Acts of Parliament! what Acts to amend Acts! what 
 committees ! what reports ! what commissions ! what grants 
 of money !—We see the parallel continually exhibited in 
 almost all matters of government. The mole-eyed econo- 
 mists cry out against necessary expense ; the profitters by 
 things as they are, strenuously resist improvement, and find 
 supporters for their own interested purposes; while the heads 
 of government are too indolent or too timid to strike at the 
 root of what is defective. At last, when alteration must 
 come, some false principle is adopted to “skin and film the 
 ulcerous place”—some board and its dependencies is created 
 to reduce the evil to the bearable point, and there to perpe- 
 tuate it—or else there comes an overwhelming flood threaten- 
 ing to sweep away both good and bad together. 
 
 The prime remedy for the defects in our institutions is to 
 be found in democratic, or self-government fitly organised— 
 that government which, by making each part healthy and 
 vigorous, would unite the whole in health and vigour under 
 the monarchy or key-stone. Then would vanish a chaotic 
 mass of evil, which at present renders sound legislation as im- 
 possible as it would be to frame an efficient Mutiny Act for an 
 ill-organised army. In my observation of even the worst part 
 of mankind, I see so great an aptitude for the right path, and 
 so little aberration, considering the quantity of neglect, that 
 I feel confident an adequate enforcement of the real English 
 
 principles of government, combined with our advanced state 
 
1907). The Original, 
 
 of civilisation, would produce moral results, as unthought of 
 
 and as incalculable, as have been the physical results from 
 
 the application of steam. The machinery by which alone 
 
 this desirable end can be accomplished, must consist of 
 local governments so ordered that those who are most 
 successful in the honourable conduct of their own con- 
 cerns would be selected, and being selected, would be 
 willing to give up time sufficient to superintend the affairs 
 of their respective communities. Now this can only be 
 permanently effected by making government a social and 
 convivial affair—a point of interesting union to the men 
 most deserving the confidence of their fellow-citizens. 
 Under such circumstances, the expense of government 
 might be greater than at present, but the expense of want 
 of government would assuredly be more than proportion- 
 ately less, and the state of society would be healthy and 
 constantly improving. In my next number I shall enter 
 
 into details, beginning with parochial government. 
 
 FORTUNE-TELLING. 
 
 There is nothing more silly than a belief in fortune- 
 telling, whether we consider the thing itself, or the de- 
 scription of persons who profess the art—an art to which 
 no one of character or education ever pretends. But 
 such belief is scarcely less dangerous than silly, especially 
 
 amongst young persons of the humbler classes. By exciting 
 
~ 
 
 fortune- Telling. I9t 
 
 false hopes, it leads to false steps; and unsettled habits, 
 
 anxiety, disappointment, dishonesty, ruin, and untimely 
 or ignominious death, have been directly or indirectly its 
 consequences. Many are induced to have their fortunes 
 told from mere idle curiosity; but a lucky guess, or 
 a prediction accidentally verified even in part, may take 
 such hold of the imagination that reason cannot resume 
 her former sway—besides that it is inexcusable to give en- 
 couragement to a race of profligates, thieves, and children- 
 stealers. A revolting instance of this encouragement is to be 
 witnessed at Epsom races on the part of many elegantly 
 dressed females, and the mixture causes a considerable de- 
 traction from the brilliancy of the scene. The following anec- 
 dote strikingly shows how difficult it must sometimes be to 
 detect imposition. It will remind the readers of Hamilton’s 
 “¢ Memoirs of De Grammont” of some passages in that work. 
 
 A little more than sixty years since, a fortune-teller in Paris 
 was roused from his bed at the dead of night by a loud 
 knocking at his door. On opening it he perceived standing 
 before him a man muffled up in an ample cloak, with a large 
 hat slouched over his face. ‘ What do you want?” said the 
 fortune-teller, somewhat alarmed. The stranger answered 
 sternly, “ If you are what you profess to be, you can tell me 
 that—” “TI can tell nothing without my cards,” replied the 
 other. ‘They both walked in, and the fortune-teller, having 
 
 shuffled his cards, and laid them out, after a pause, observed 
 
192 The Original. 
 
 with a tone of deference, “ I perceive I am in the presence of 
 an illustrious person.” ‘‘ You are right,” said the stranger ; 
 “and now tell me what it is I wish to know.” The 
 fortune-teller, again consulting his cards, answered—“ You 
 wish to know whether a certain lady will have a son or a 
 daughter.” ‘Right again,” said the stranger. After another 
 pause, the fortune-teller pronounced that the lady would 
 have ason. On which the stranger replied—“ If that prove 
 true, you shall receive fifty pieces of gold—if false, a good 
 cudgelling.” A few weeks after, about the same hour and 
 in the same manner, the stranger re-appeared, and before he 
 could speak, the fortune-teller exclaimed, ‘“‘ You find I was 
 night.” “I do,” said the stranger ; and I am come to keep 
 my promise.” So saying, he produced a ‘purse of fifty louis, 
 and departed. 
 
 The stranger's mode of proceeding seems to have been 
 designed to put the fortune-teller’s skill to the severest test. 
 ‘The circumstance of his coming alone, and at such an hour, 
 makes it probable he had not communicated his intention to 
 any one; whilst his carefulness in concealing his person and 
 face, and his extreme caution to afford no clue to the dis- 
 covery of himself or his object by conversation, were ad- 
 mirably calculated to render imposition impossible. The 
 history of the case is this. I heard it about seventeen years 
 since from a gentleman in Paris, who learned it from Volney, 
 
 the celebrated traveller in the East. Volney had it from the 
 
<a! 
 
 Fortune-T. elling. 193 
 
 fortune-teller himself, who applied to him for some Syriac 
 expressions. On being asked for what purpose he wanted 
 them, he confessed his trade; and Volney finding him a 
 remarkably shrewd person, inquired of him the story of his 
 life. He said, that when he was young, he had a great turn 
 _for expense, very slender means, and an inveterate repugnance 
 to anything like drudgery. After long puzzling himself to 
 discover some mode of life by which he could unite certain 
 profit with continual amusement, he determined to set up as 
 a fortune-teller. He commenced by taking a lodging in the 
 obscure quarter of the Marais, and practising in a small way 
 in that neighbourhood, where the blunders of a beginner 
 would not be of much consequence. At the same time he 
 never failed to be in daily attendance about the Court, and 
 spared no pains to make himself familiar with the personal 
 | appearance and private history of every person of the least 
 note there. After two years of practice amongst the small, 
 and of study amongst the great, he thought himself qualified 
 to begin business on a grand scale, and having by bribery of 
 a servant procured a proper customer, he tried his art in his 
 new sphere with great success. His fame, and of course his 
 gains, increased rapidly, and it was when he was in his zenith 
 that the adventure above related happened. He explained it 
 thus. Whilst shuffling his cards, he purposely let two or 
 three fall, and, in rising from picking them up, he contrived 
 
 to catch a sufficient glimpse of the stranger’s countenance to 
 VOL. 1. Q 
 
| I 94 The Original. 
 
 i) 
 
 discover that he was no less a person than the Duke of 
 Orleans, after Philippe Egalité, and the father of the pre- 
 sent King of the French, who was actually the child in 
 question. He took not the least notice of the discovery he 
 had made, but pretended to ascertain the fact from the con- 
 templation of his cards. Having overcome this difficulty, his 
 practised acuteness made the rest easy to him. It was pub- 
 licly known that the Duchess was near her confinement, and 
 he had heard the Duke was anxious to have ason; he there- 
 fore confidently guessed the object of his visit, and after the 
 manner of his tribe hazarded the prediction which he thought 
 would ensure him the most liberal pay. He did not expect 
 the proposed alternative, which obliged him to be on his 
 
 guard, and he had actually only just returned from learning 
 
 the news at the palace, and was scarcely in bed, when the | 
 
 Duke arrived, whose faith must have been confirmed by the 
 fortune-teller’s anticipation of his intelligence. 
 
 If the story be true, it is not probable that a man like the 
 Duke of Orleans, having experienced such an instance of 
 fortune-telling, would be satisfied without recurring to it, and 
 it may possibly be that such excitement of ambitious hopes 
 
 contributed to his, as to Macbeth’s, untimely fall. 
 
 GOOD BREEDING. 
 
 A gentleman is a Christian in spirit that will take a polish. 
 
 The rest are but plated goods ; and however excellent their 
 
 pe ee 
 
| bar | Good Breeding. | 195 
 
 fashion, rub them more or less the base metal will appear 
 through. 
 
 An Englishman making the grand tour towards the middle. 
 of the last century, when travellers were more objects of 
 attention than at present, on arriving at Turin sauntered out 
 to see the place. He happened to meet a regiment of 
 infantry returning from parade, and taking a position to see 
 it pass, a young captain, evidently desirous to make a display 
 before the stranger, in crossing. one of the numerous water- 
 courses with which the city 1s intersected, missed his footing, 
 and in trying to save himself lost his hat. The exhibition 
 was truly unfortunate. ‘The spectators laughed, and looked 
 at the Englishman, expecting him to laugh too. On the 
 contrary, he not only retained his composure, but promptly 
 advanced to where the hat had rolled, and taking it up, 
 presented it with an air of unaffected kindness to its 
 confused owner. The officer received it with a blush of 
 surprise and gratitude, and hurried to rejoin his company. 
 There was a murmur of applause, and the stranger passed. 
 on. Though the scene of a moment, and without a word 
 spoken, it touched every heart, not with admiration for a 
 mere display of politeness, but with a warmer feeling for a 
 proof of that true charity, “which never faileth.” On the 
 regiment being dismissed, the captain, who was a young man | 
 of consideration, in glowing terms related the circumstance 
 
 to his colonel. The colonel immediately mentioned it to the 
 02 
 
196 The Original. 
 
 general in command ; and when the Englishman returned to 
 his hotel he found an aide-de-camp waiting to request his 
 company to dinner at head-quarters. In the evening he was 
 carried to Court—at that time, as Lord Chesterfield tells us, 
 the most brilliant Court in Europe—and was received with 
 particular attention. Of course during his stay at Turin he 
 was invited everywhere ; and on his departure he was loaded 
 with-letters of introduction to the different States of Italy. 
 Thus a private gentleman of moderate means, by a graceful 
 impulse of Christian feeling, was enabled to travel through a 
 foreign country, then of the highest interest for its society 
 as well as for the charms it still possesses, with more real 
 distinction and advantage than can ever be derived from the 
 mere circumstances of birth and fortune, even the most 
 splendid. 
 
 I think I cannot more appropriately conclude this anecdote 
 than by adding the excellent, and excellently expressed 
 advice of Polonius to his son on his departure for a foreign 
 country. The precepts are admirably adapted to form a 
 man of the world and a gentleman, in the best sense of the 
 terms ; and in my opinion are well worth committing to 
 memory by those whom they concern. 
 
 Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
 Nor any unproportion’d thought his act. 
 
 Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 
 
 The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
 
° Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel ; 
 - But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
 
 a a ; -Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware 
 
 7 Of entrance into quarrel ! ! but, being in, 
 , 
 
 ae a's Pee 
 
 as Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. 
 oe r ~ Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; — 
 Take each man’s pensure but reserve thy judgment. 
 Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 
 z 7 | But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy: 
 fy For the apparel oft proclaims the man. 
 . Neither a borrower nor a lender be . 
 _ For loan oft loses both itself and friend, 
 And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
 i This above all—to thine own self be true, 
 And it must follow as the night the day, 
 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
 
 AN EXECUTION. 
 
 Y 
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 Amid the varied scenes of this vast metropolis, there is 
 probably none so striking as an interior view of an execution 
 at the Old Bailey. Being desirous to witness the effect of the 
 punishment of death, I once accompanied one of the Sheriffs 
 on a cold winter’s morning, to see three men executed. We 
 arrived between seven and eight o’clock, and were shown into 
 _ the press room, a low, gloomy chamber. ‘Two of the men, 
 having attempted to escape, were heavily ironed. Each placed 
 
 his foot upon an anvil, whilst a smith, with a large hammer 
 
198 he OV 
 
 and great force, drove the rivets out. The sound was awful. 
 One of the criminals, who had confessed to a hundred bur- 
 glaries, I had myself committed for triaL He was a fine- 
 looking man of nine-and-twenty, but so altered, that I could 
 scarcely trace his former features ; and I was informed that, 
 even in the most hardened, nature generally gives way in 
 the last four-and-twenty hours, and suffers dreadful wreck. 
 When the three were pinioned, the procession set slowly 
 forward along the dark and narrow passages, a bell dismally 
 knelling, and the Ordinary reading portions of the burial- 
 service. A few minutes after the drop fell, we retired, as is 
 the custom, to breakfast in what is called the Lord Mayor’s 
 parlour. The Ordinary presided in full canonicals, and kept. 
 our attention alive by anecdotes connected with the occasion. 
 On his right sat the City Marshal in military uniform. The 
 Sheriffs wore their massive gold chains, and the two under- 
 sheriffs were in Court dresses, contrasted with whom was a 
 gentleman of peculiarly primitive appearance and attire—a 
 constant attendant. The group, the time of day, the occa- 
 sion, formed a combination altogether singular. After the 
 lapse of an hour, the Sheriffs were summoned to see the 
 bodies cut down, and I was surprised to find the countenances 
 
 as placid as after natural death. 
 
 NVotice—In consequence of different requests, I shall in 
 my next number begin to fulfil my promise to treat of the 
 
 Art of attaining High Health, from experience. 
 
_ No. III] WEDNESDAY, JUNE 3, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 i, J 
 
 PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 _ Ir was my intention, in entering into the details of parish 
 government, to have written an original article ; but in look- 
 ing into a sketch on the subject, which I published in 
 January, 1834, I think it advisable to begin with that, in a 
 
 corrected form, and to supply its deficiencies hereafter. 
 
 ‘It seems to me that the first in order and most important 
 of all reforms, is the Reform of Parochial Government— 
 that is, the adaptation to present circumstances of the 
 English principles of SELF-GOVERNMENT BY SMALL COM- 
 _ MUNITIES, 
 
 Parochial government is the very element upon which all 
 other government in England depends, and as long as it is 
 out of order, everything must be out of order—representa- 
 tion—legislation—police. Hence, instead of a House of 
 Commons of men of practical wisdom and distinct views in 
 matters of government, saying little and doing much, a 
 House of Commons as it is. The choosers and the 
 chosen are alike vague in the knowledge of their duties. 
 
 They have no proper training ; they have not begun at the 
 
200 The Original. 
 
 beginning—GOVERNMENT AT HOME. Hence also a confused 
 mass of laws, and a flood of vice and crime. Hence dema- 
 gogues, adventurers, theorists, and quacks, the tormentors 
 of the public peace; and mobs, and combinations, and 
 visionary schemes. Let each portion of the country be 
 properly governed, and the soundness of the whole will 
 make those evils necessarily vanish. At present all is, as 
 it were, chaotic, offering a fertile field to the wild and selfish, 
 whilst the wise and good are discouraged and dismayed. 
 
 It is by the principles alone of self-government by small 
 communities that a nation can be brought to enjoy a vigorous 
 moral health, and its consequences—real prosperity. It is 
 by the same principle alone that the social feelings can be 
 duly called into action, and that men, taken in the mass, can 
 be noble, generous, intelligent, and free. It has been from 
 neglect of this principle that England, with all her advantages, 
 has not made greater progress; and it will be only to its 
 abandonment, and the substitution of a heartless system of 
 generalisation and mercenaries that she can ever owe her 
 decay and become fit for despotism. Put the administration 
 of justice throughout the land, the police, the poor laws, the 
 roads, into the hands of mere officials placed over extended 
 districts with which they are to have little or no community 
 —take from men of business and of fortune everything but 
 their business and their fortunes, and on the one hand will 
 
 be created a race of traders in public affairs, and on the 
 
ial ————— 
 
 Parochial Government. 201 
 
 other of selfish besotted individuals, with a government 
 
 relying for its strength on an all-pervading patronage ; and, 
 
 in the proportion that this is done, evil will arise, and good 
 be prevented. 
 
 It is true that everything connected with parish govern- 
 
 ‘ment has long been, with the ignorant and unthinking as 
 
 well as with many who ought to have known better, the 
 object of ridicule and abuse; and that those whose duty it 
 especially was to have taken office upon themselves, have 
 diverted their attention and their efforts to public channels, 
 or to those public institutions which at best are but inefficient 
 expedients for well-organised local government. They have 
 had an excuse for their neglect in the difficulty of effecting 
 good, and the feeling that it could only be temporary ; and 
 most of those who have made any attempt at reform have 
 rather furnished a warning than an example for imitation, 
 because the machinery was too defective to work well for 
 any length of time. There have been some general Acts of 
 Parliament and many local ones for the better government 
 of parishes ; but they have been called forth only to remedy 
 evils become intolerable, and have either been in abandon- 
 ment of true principles, or have very inadequately enforced 
 them. The ancient courts, too, with their inquests and fines, 
 have fallen into disuse, and their place has not been supplied 
 by local institutions better fitted to the times, and absolutely 
 
 necessary to well-ordered communities. 
 
 Day Porky a a 
 YO ee . 
 
202 The Original. 
 
 It is a melancholy truth that at this moment no small 
 portion of the population through the land may be said to 
 be out of the pale of government, unless when their crimes, 
 the consequences of neglect, draw down its vengeance upon 
 their heads. It is pitiable to see wretches brought before 
 the tribunals of justice who never had any chance of well- 
 doing; and the only marvel is that with so many tempta- 
 tions and s0 little care there is not far more of disorder and 
 outrage. Not only in the metropolis, but in every town, 
 nearly in every parish in the kingdom, there is a neglected 
 population sunk in ignorance, filth, and vice, which, almost 
 unseen, festers in the body politic, and more or less infects 
 the health of all. It is not by the efforts of individuals, or 
 of any combinations of individuals, that this evil can be 
 remedied, but by an improved local organisation proceeding 
 from the State—an organisation required for the moral 
 elevation and the well-being of all classes, as well the 
 governing as the governed. 
 
 The mode of reform I think desirable is briefly this. As 
 the parishes throughout the kingdom vary so much in extent, 
 population, wealth, and intelligence, it would be impossible 
 to form one constitution to suit them all; nor would it be 
 quite practicable to meet the exigencies of each case, or of 
 each class of cases, by separate Acts of Parliament; besides 
 that amidst the rapid improvements of the age, which would 
 
 become still more rapid by better local organisation, no 
 
Parochial Government. 203 
 
 constitution could in numerous instances be long applicable 
 . 
 
 without some change. 
 
 I would therefore suggest a general Act of Parliament, 
 empowering commissioners to apply its provisions according 
 to the circumstances of each parish ; which being done, the 
 commission to cease, and any future alterations from time to 
 time deemed requisite to be made by the magistrates in 
 quarter sessions assembled. All that the commissioners or 
 magistrates should have to do should be to adopt parochial 
 constitutions, and then the parishioners should manage their 
 own affairs, independently of all control, except that of the 
 legal tribunals. Any system of interference is a mockery of 
 freedom—childish in conception, arbitrary and debasing in 
 effect. The difference in the size of parishes I think very 
 desirable, as affording varied scope for intelhgence and 
 exertion. At the same time there may be some so small 
 as to require consolidation, at least for certain purposes ; 
 and others so large, and possessing such different interests, 
 as to make division expedient. It seems to have been a 
 universal oversight with the founders of empires, and with 
 great legislators, to have made no provision for the change 
 of circumstances their wise institutions were sure to produce, 
 and. baneful have been the consequences to mankind. 
 
 There are three principal points to be attended to in 
 parish government—subdivision according to extent and 
 
 population, election of officers, and their powers. Division 
 
204 The Original. 
 
 is in all things essential to order, and every parish too 
 extensive or populous for individual superintendence ought 
 to be divided into wards, over each of which a warden 
 or guardian annually elected by the ratepayers of the 
 ward or of the parish, according to circumstances, should 
 preside. It should never be forgotten that it is indis- 
 pensable to every well-regulated community that there 
 should be no part of it with which some individual super- 
 intendent should not be thoroughly acquainted. In 
 parishes requiring no subdivision, the ratepayers should 
 annually elect a certain number of governors. In parishes 
 containing few subdivisions, the wardens and a sufficient 
 number elected in addition should be governors, and 
 where the wardens are numerous enough, they alone. In 
 every parish there should be a principal and his deputy 
 chosen from amongst the governors by themselves. 
 
 With respect to the powers of the governors, they 
 should have those of peace officers, and each warden 
 should have a subwarden and the requisite number ot 
 assistant constables, elected in the same manner as him- 
 self. When fit persons could be found, a certain por- 
 tion of the governors, to be elected among themselves, 
 should be magistrates within the parish, All the ancient 
 officers of England, from the Sheriff downwards, are 
 supposed to have a community of interest with those 
 
 over whom they are placed—the only principle for a 
 
 a ee 
 
Parochial Government. 205 
 
 free country. In the Acts of Parliament relating to the 
 management of the poor from Elizabeth’s time to that of 
 George the First, magisterial acts are directed to be done 
 by magistrates “residing in or near the parish”; and to 
 the non-observance of that direction may be attributed 
 a great deal of the mal-administration of the Poor Laws. 
 The governors should further have the power of enforcing 
 the laws, of prosecuting such felonies or misdemeanours 
 committed within their parish as to them should seem 
 meet, of holding a court of requests, of abating and fining 
 for nuisances, “of inquiring of,” to use Lord Bacon’s 
 words respecting the jurisdiction of the court leet, 
 ‘punishing and removing all things that may hurt or 
 grieve the people in their health, quiet, and welfare,” 
 of managing the poor and the highways, of providing 
 _school-houses and savings’ banks, of making drains, public 
 walks, bathing-places, and any other improvements for 
 the common good, and of raising rates within certain 
 limits for carrying the above objects into effect. 
 
 Were parishes properly constituted, it can scarcely be 
 doubted but that the advantages of distinction, the hope 
 of further advancement, and the desire of doing good, 
 would be sufficient to induce the best qualified to seek 
 office; and as the electors would come much _ into 
 immediate contact with the objects of their choice, they 
 
 would most likely, at least after a little experience, 
 
206 The Original. 
 be more careful and discriminating than electors under 
 other circumstances usually are. Mob-flatterers, adven- 
 turers, and jobbers would be too nearly in view long to 
 escape detection. ae 
 
 It would be very desirable, I think, that every parish 
 where the means would allow, and in many parishes, 
 that every ward or a union of wards, should possess a 
 place of meeting for the convenience of the governors, 
 and under their control, and that the rest of the rate- 
 payers or inhabitants should be admitted by ballot, and, 
 on payment of a certain subscription, to form a sort of 
 club. A point of union amongst different classes having 
 a common interest must be advantageous to all, especially 
 in the communication of information and the promotion 
 
 of mutual good-will; and such institutions would be 
 
 excellent objects for the munificence of public-spirited - 
 
 individuals, either by donation or legacy. 
 
 The chief points to be attended to by the commissioners 
 would be, what parishes ought to be divided—what sub- 
 divided or consolidated, and in what manner. How 
 many governors there should be in each, and the mode 
 of election in each. What portion of the powers contained 
 in the general Act should be extended to each parish. 
 Where there should be magistrates, and their number, 
 and what the limits of taxation according to wealth, 
 
 distribution of property, and intelligence. 
 
Parochial Government. 207 
 
 Parishes are so many little commonwealths, capable in 
 different degrees of being made by effective organisation 
 nurseries of useful ambition, manly intelligence, and 
 social virtue. It is here that public men should begin 
 their discipline, cultivate their sympathies, and learn to 
 see their way. It is here that the lowliest citizen should 
 proudly feel within the reach of merit the first steps to 
 advancement. It is from this goal that all should have 
 a fair start, and the State place her sons in their proper 
 order. Then might representation be the extraction of 
 the choicest of the land, legislation become something 
 like the essence of wisdom and simplicity, and police an 
 ever vigilant force, having for its chief characteristic 
 moral influence. 
 
 I have sketched this outline to endeavour to give to the 
 public mind a little of what I conceive to be the right tone 
 on the all-engrossing topic of Reform. I like comfortable, 
 generous times. I loathe the base, malignant, destroying 
 spirit now in the ascendant, chilling and poisoning 
 as it works; and I would fain see the present age of 
 calculation and economy pass away, to be succeeded by a 
 glorious one of high-minded morals. To inspirit the rich, 
 to enrich the industrious, and to ensure a sound and brilliant 
 prosperity, what this great country wants, is not a sour 
 system of paring and pulling down, but a statesmanlike 
 
 infusion of the splendour and energies of war into the 
 
208 The Original. 
 
 ‘conduct of peace—the same prompt and liberal application 
 of means to ends—the same excitements to action—the 
 
 same encouragements to those who serve their country. 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 
 According to the promise made in my last number, I 
 enter upon the subject of attaining high health. If my 
 readers are like myself, it will be satisfactory to them to 
 know what authority I have for so doing, and what is 
 my experience. My acquaintance of later years are 
 accustomed to treat my precepts as theoretical, and to 
 maintain that I am indebted for the health they see me 
 enjoy, to an originally very strong constitution—with what 
 truth the following statement will show. 
 
 Some months before I was born, my mother lost a 
 favourite child from illness, owing, as she accused herself, 
 to her own temporary absence, and that circumstance 
 preyed upon her spirits and affected her health to such 
 a degree, that 1 was brought into the world in a very 
 weakly and wretched state. It was supposed I could 
 not survive long; and nothing, I believe, but the greatest 
 maternal tenderness and care preserved my life. During 
 childhood I was very frequently and seriously ill—often 
 thought to be dying, and once pronounced to be dead. I 
 
 was ten years old before it was judged safe to trust me 
 
Pl 
 
 + 
 
 * 
 
 The Art of attaining High Health. 209 
 
 a ‘, 
 
 - 
 
 . from home at all, and my father’s wishes to place me at 
 _ a publié school were uniformly opposed by various medical 
 
 re advisers, on the ground that it would be my certain 
 
 destruction. Besides continual bilious and inflammatory 
 attacks, for several years I was grievously troubled with 
 an affection of the trachea; and many times, after any 
 
 excess in diet or exertion, or in particular states of the 
 
 __ weather, or where there was new hay or decayed timber, 
 
 my difficulty of breathing was so great, that life was 
 miserable to me. On one occasion at Cambridge I was 
 obliged to send for a surgeon in the middle of the night, 
 and he told me the next morning he thought I should 
 have died before he could open a vein. I well remember 
 the relief it afforded my agony, and I only recovered 
 by living for six weeks in a rigidly abstemious and most 
 
 careful manner. During these years, and for a long time 
 
 after, I felt no security of my health. At last, one day 
 
 when I had shut myself up in the country, and was 
 reading with great attention Cicero’s Treatise De Orasore, 
 some passage, I quite forget what, suggested to me the 
 expediency of making the improvement of my health my 
 study. I rose from my book, stood bolt upright, and 
 determined to be well. In pursuance of my resolution, I 
 tried many extremes, was guilty of many absurdities, and 
 committed many errors, amidst the remonstrances and 
 
 ridicule of those around me. I persevered nevertheless, 
 Vor. I. Pp 
 
i 
 
 any medical ao or taken any medicine, or 
 
 whatever by way of medicine. 
 
 of business or nieagarein or bee confined one Hove with 
 
 Ku 
 
 the exception of two days in the country from | over 
 
 exertion. For nine years I have worn neither great coat 
 
 “nor cloak, though I ride and walk at all hours and ins 
 
 all weathers. My dress has been the same in summer 
 
 and winter, my under garments being single and only oe * 
 : : (ay : y 
 
 cotton, and I am always lightly shod. The only incon- ae 
 
 ™ a é an 
 venience I suffer, is occasionally from colds; but with a — 
 
 little more care I could entirely prevent them, or, if I 
 
 took the trouble, I could remove the most severe in — 
 
 four-and-twenty hours. I do not mean it to be under- 
 stood that the same simple means would produce so 
 rapid a cure in all persons, but only in those who may 
 have acquired the same tendency to health that I have 
 —a tendency of which I believe all persons are much 
 more capable than they suppose. 
 
 In the course of my pursuit after health, I once brought 
 
 myself to a pure and buoyant state, of which previously I “a 
 
 had no conception, and which I shall hereafter describe. 
 
 Having attained so great a blessing, I afterwards fell off to 
 
tion of not being ill, mines than of being well. Real 
 
 alth produces an elasticity and vigour of body Ay) mind, 
 
 : ch makes the possessors of it, in the characteristic words 
 the Ploughman Poet, | 
 
 ey « O’er all the ills of life victorious.” 
 
 ie | And now having, I hope, excited the curiosity of my 
 readers, and inspired them with.some degree of confidence 
 “as to my qualifications for the task I have undertaken, I 
 
 Shall in my next number proceed to details.* 
 
 nee 
 
 CROSSIN G THE ALPS MATHEMATICALLY. 
 
 The following anecdote is founded on fact, and the local 
 
 _ description 1s strictly accurate. 
 . Everybody has seen or heard of Bonaparte’s road over the 
 | Simplon. As some English travellers were ascending it on 
 their way into Italy, two young men of the party walked on 
 considerably before the rest. Soon after they had passed 
 
 the post-house on the summit, one of them, who had lately 
 
 * Mr. Walker was careful when writing, as wheneating. ‘I write,” 
 said he, ‘‘in a bedroom at an hotel (in Spring Gardens), sitting upon 
 a cane chair, in the same dress I go out in, and with no books to refer 
 to but the New Testament, Shakespeare, and a pocket dictionary.” 
 Now and then, when much pressed for time, and without premedita- 
 ; tion, and with his eyes on the clock, he wrote some of his shorter 
 essays at the Athenzeum Club, at the same table where other members 
 "were writing notes and letters. 
 
 P 2 
 
212 The Original. 
 
 taken a wrangler’s degree at Cambridge, and was now first © 
 ‘ 
 
 launched into the world, observing the barrier of mountains 
 in front, proposed to make a short cut along the cow-track 
 which presented itself on the left. His less speculative com- 
 panion thought it would be better to keep the road, and an 
 argument ensuing— : 
 
 ‘Tt is really quite astonishing,” exclaimed the mathemati- 
 cian with warmth, “that people cannot reason. Don’t I 
 pursue with my eye an unbroken chain of mountains there, 
 covered with eternal snow? It is clear the road cannot 
 continue in its present direction—it must curve round here. 
 This track is evidently the chord of the arc, and where cows 
 can go, I can go. Thecase is as clear as anything in Euclid 
 —it does not admit of a doubt.” 
 
 ‘‘ But why then,” said the other, “ did not Bonaparte cause 
 the road to be made here?” 
 
 “‘ Because he was a fool,” replied the wrangler. So saying, 
 he struck into the path, and his friend, after a moment’s 
 hesitation, followed him. 
 
 “TI knew I must be right,” said the Cantab, chattering 
 away most authoritatively, till the cow-track at length dimi- 
 nishing into a sheep-track, he became rather less loquacious ; 
 and the sheep-track also terminating soon after amongst 
 some ominous unevenness, a dead silence and a _ halt 
 ensued. 
 
 “Oh!” exclaimed the wrangler again, “we have only to 
 
Crossing the Alps Mathematically. 213 
 go on subtending the arc”; and so they did, till they 
 suddenly arrived at the edge of a precipice at least five 
 _ hundred feet perpendicularly deep, from which awful posi- 
 tion they described in the distance the road magnificently 
 descending before them towards the village of the Simplon. 
 
 “I wish,” said the prudent traveller, ‘‘ you had not been 
 so extremely clever in proving this to be the nearest way, 
 which proves itself to be no way at all. I will back Keller* 
 against Euclid for a Swiss guide.” 
 
 “I was right, however,” said the wrangler, “about the 
 direction ; you may now see where the road winds under the 
 mountain there, and but for this precipice we should just 
 have cut off the curve, as I said.” 
 
 “A very near thing, truly!” replied the other; “ but 
 come, I shall take the command now.” So saying, he 
 turned io the right, and keeping along the brink of the 
 precipice, was followed by the disconcerted wrangler till 
 they arrived at a practicable descent over broken masses 
 of rock, interspersed with stunted shrubs and alpine plants. 
 The sun was already far in the west—the way was most 
 difficult—the distance to the road was uncertain—the 
 carriages would most probably have passed: the anxiety 
 of the two increased to a degree that those who have 
 
 not been in a similar situation, or seen such tremendous 
 
 * The author of the well-known travelling map. 
 
ae The Original. 
 
 scenery, can have little idea of. Here they slid down a 
 steep descent of loose sharp stones—there they scrambled 
 
 up a rugged breastwork—then they skipped from fragment 
 
 to fragment—till at last the wrangler, setting his foot. 
 
 amongst some plants which concealed a cleft, sank up to 
 
 the knee; and in his haste to withdraw his leg, snapped 
 
 the small bone of it. His companion, though slow in — 
 
 getting into difficulties, was ever prompt in getting out; 
 and being strong and stout-hearted, he quickly mounted 
 his friend upon his back, and, with extreme labour and 
 scarcely less danger, succeeded in carrying him into the 
 road. Here he deposited. his burden to rest; and as 
 they sat in painful meditation, the shades of night were 
 fast veiling the sublimities of nature—no sound was heard, 
 nor was there any sign of living being. They had, how- 
 ever, only just resumed their harassing march when they 
 were cheered by the rolling of wheels behind them, and 
 their own carriage, which had most fortunately been 
 detained by an accident, rapidly descending the hill, put 
 an end to their anxiety, and soon conveyed them to the 
 inn, where they found the rest of their party assembled, 
 and everything prepared for their reception for the night. 
 The next morning the mathematician was carefully con- 
 veyed towards Milan; and there, during a vexatious con- 
 finement, he had ample leisure to reflect on the danger of 
 
 ingenuity when unaccompanied by experience. He is not 
 
 ’ 
 
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 . 
 
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 i 
 , 
 
 aa in pees sla and Present. 215 
 
 a 
 
 Considering the enormous, and in many parts demoralised, 
 
 s be: so little personal insecurity. I have been in the habit 
 : ~ for Hee years of going about all parts of the town and 
 tthe environs, at all hours, without any precaution, and I 
 
 Pe never experienced on any occasion the slightest molesta- 
 
 ’ tion ; and I scarcely ever met in society any one whose 
 own actual experience was different. It was not so 
 formerly, as the following instances will serve to show. 
 
 At Kensington, within the memory of man, on Sunday 
 evenings a bell used to be rung at intervals to muster 
 
 the people returning to town. As soon as a band was 
 
 . _ assembled sufficiently numerous to ensure mutual protection, 
 it set off; and so on till all had passed. George the 
 
 Fourth and the late Duke of York, when very young 
 men, were stopped one night in a hackney coach, and 
 
 _ robbed, on Hay Hill, Berkeley Square. To cross Hounslow 
 
 Heath or Finchley Common, now both enclosed, after 
 sunset, was a service of great danger. Those who ventured 
 were always well armed, and some few had even ball-proof 
 
 carriages. There is a house still standing, I believe, on 
 
 ie y | 
 
216 The Original. 
 
 Finchley, which in those days was the known place of - : 
 
 rendezvous for highwaymen. Happily these things are now 
 matters of history. 
 The standard of wealth is no less changed than the 
 
 standard of safety. ‘Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, was 
 
 once the street of fashionable shops—what Bond Street — 
 
 was till lately, and what Bond Street and Regent Street 
 together are now. I remember hearing an old lady say 
 that in her young days the crowd of handsome equipages 
 in Tavistock Street was considered one of the sights of 
 London. I have had the curiosity to stride it. It is 
 about one hundred and sixty yards long, and, before the 
 footways were widened, would have admitted three car- 
 riages abreast. Within memory, the principal carriage 
 approach to Old Drury Lane Theatre—the last but one 
 before the present—was through that part of Drury Lane 
 which is now a flagged foot-passage, and called Drury 
 
 Court, just opposite the New Church in the Strand. The 
 
 ring in Hyde Park, so celebrated in old novels and plays, - 
 
 and so often the scene of duels, is still traceable round 
 a clump of trees near the foot-barracks. It encloses an 
 area of about ninety yards in diameter, and is about 
 forty-five yards wide. Here used to assemble all the 
 fashion of the day, now diffused round the whole park, 
 
 besides what is taken off by the Regent’s Park. At the 
 
 rate the country is advancing in wealth, what will be the ~ 
 
 ’ 
 i 
 
 —— - 
 
 é 
 
 > eS eee ae ee ee ee ee 
 
i will add one more instance of Aerie A retired 
 
 Feney coachman, giving an account of his life to a 
 
 friend of mine, stated ‘that his principal gains had been 
 
 _ derived from cruising at late hours in particular quarters 
 
 Prot the town to pick up drunken gentlemen. If they were 
 
 able to tell their address, he conveyed them straight 
 
 home: if not, he carried them to certain taverns, where the 
 
 custom was to secure their property and put them to 
 bed. In the morning he called to take them home, 
 and was generally handsomely rewarded. He said 
 there were other coachmen who pursued the same course, 
 and they all considered it their policy to be strictly 
 honest.* The bell at Kensington, the glories of Tavistock 
 Street, and the coachmen’s cruises, may all be referred 
 back a little more than seventy years, and afford indis- 
 
 putable and consoling proofs of improvement in security, 
 
 _ wealth, and temperance. I like to look at the bright 
 
 side of things. 
 
 * The same calling has been pursued for many years in Paris. 
 The tariff for taking the drunkard home is—or was—ten sous: 
 and his conductor was known as L’ Ange Gardien. 
 
WRITTEN AT VIENNA IN 820-0 
 
 “ Fair Italy! — 
 Thou art te garden of the world, ine home 
 
 the most brilliant season of a very brilliant year, rs ie 
 
 each hour in the twenty-four, from the dawn of spring A 
 to the ripeness of autumn. I have watched the | sun 
 set upon “the relics of almighty Rome,” and rise | a 
 the bays of Naples and Mola di.Gaeta. Floating ing 
 a gondola, with the setting sun behind me, I have seen 
 the full moon illuminating the towers of Venice, a 4 
 I have wandered in the Coliseum by her light. I have | q 
 seen her at Florence shining through the most brilliant 
 foliage, with myriads of fire-flies glittering beneath, oa x 
 have watched her silvery light streaming over the waves” : 
 in the bay of Naples, before purpled by the setting sun. ig 
 
 I have seen vegetation bud and come to miatatyl 4 
 unchecked by frost or blight, and uniting the freshness 
 of spring with the fullness of summer. I have inhaled 
 the powerful odour of the orange-flower and the delicate 
 fragrance of the vine, listening to the song of the night. 
 
 ingale on a lovely evening by the bay of Naples. 
 
4 
 
 e ae the cherry, and the most beautiful shrubs— 
 
 <a ce ey anccloudless “aztire— crumbling 
 
 on i ee | i 
 
 I have ridden a hundred and fifty miles in vigorous 
 a health, between Nice and Genoa, with the smooth and 
  beauteous Mediterranean on my right and the snow- 
 ‘covered, rugged Alps on my left—through olive and 
 _ lemon groves, with towns and villages, convents, bridges, 
 rocks and dells, all romantically blended together, 4 
 have sailed on the magnificent gulf of Genoa, and the | 
 enchanting bays of Naples, Mola di Gaeta, and Baie. 
 I have seen the lovely gulfs of Villa Franca and La 
 Spezia, and the falls of Terni and Tivoll. 
 
 I have breathed the gales of spring on the banks of 
 ‘the Tiber, and in the delicious environs of Naples. I 
 have traversed the Lago Maggiore and the Lake of 
 - Como, and have bathed in the soft and limpid waters of 
 the Lago di Garda. I have gathered the most delicious 
 
 fruits fresh from the tree, and have passed during the 
 vintage through loaded vines, hanging on trellises or 
 
 -in festoons, for miles and miles. I have exercised. 
 
The Original. _ 
 during the freshness sa morning, enjoyed : at ray cel 
 the tranquil glow of the mid-day sun, and sat uncovered 
 at midnight beneath the starry azure—feeling - simple 
 existence delicious enjoyment. 
 
 I have visited St. Peter’s again and again; I have seen ts 
 illuminated in the interior and on the exterior. I have ~ 
 seen the Apollo and the Laocoon by torch-light, and 
 have passed hours before the Venus de’ Medici and the 
 masterpieces of Raphael. one 
 
 I have stood upon the Alban Hill, and looked along — 
 the Appian Way, a ruin itself, bordered on each side — 
 for fifteen miles with ruined tombs. I have wandered 
 many an evening, on foot and on horseback, over the 4 
 
 inspiring solitudes of the Campagna di Roma. 
 
 > * * ‘* Fair Italy ! 
 * * # * 
 
 Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? 
 
 Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
 
 More rich than other climes’ fertility ; 
 
 Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin grac’d 
 
 With an immaculate charm, which cannot be defac’d !” 
 
 I have visited the ruins of Pzstum, of Tusculum, and of 
 Pompei. I have leaned over the crater of Vesuvius © 
 in darkness, listening to the fiery storm below. I have j 
 explored the stupendous remains of the Palace of the 4 
 Cesars, and of the Baths of Titus and Caracalla. I 
 
 have viewed from Cecilia Metella’s tomb the three ranges 
 
r, broken, and overgrown with ivy ond wild flowers. 
 
 descended into the tombs of the ancient Romans, 
 visited the dungeons of their captives, and followed the 
 i at , P ‘ 
 rack of their triumphs. I have wandered over the scenes ‘ 
 
 a ich Virgil has sung, stood where Cicero harangued, — ag 
 
 a v 4 
 
 and walked on the very road which Horace loved to 
 
No. IV.] 
 
 PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 In the article on government in my second. number Bi 
 
 have said that the only machinery by which the a . 
 
 in the honourable conduct of their own concerns Pfould | 
 be selected, and, being selected, would be willing to. give ; 
 up time sufficient . to superintend the affairs of their 
 respective communities. By the most successful in the — 
 honourable conduct of their own concerns, I mean those i 
 who by prudence, sagacity, integrity, and industry, attain | 
 
 independence at least, or, being born to fortune, exhibit 
 
 a 
 
 those moral qualities which make fortune a blessing to @ 
 themselves and to those around them. Now, in order 
 to secure thé selection of such persons, it is necessary that — 
 those who are to select should have uppermost, or indeed — a 
 solely in their minds, their own individual well-being ; gS and 4 
 that being the case, it must follow that they would choose 
 
 ‘the best qualified to serve their respective communities. 
 
 This is a principle which, though probably in some degree . 
 
force, has" ibe! tone fallen into neglect ; and 
 
 ‘ on between the electors and the elected, - 
 
 ee it is s ordinarily matter of indifference, or nearly so, 
 ‘the parishioners at large, whom they elect to govern 33 
 hem ; and if they do interest themselves, it is only on some 
 Fe autary occasion, or for some any purpose; but 
 indifference is the rule. The reason is twofold: first, 
 because the powers of government are much too small ; 
 and secondly, because the elections are by too large masses. 
 
 Py 
 ) tthe! remedy i is also twofold: first, to divide every parish, 
 
 se not already small enough, into such districts that one — 
 _ individual, to be elected by each district, might be perfectly 
 Dee aici of its interests; and secondly, to give him such 
 powers that those interests would be materially promoted or 
 injured, according to his qualifications for using the powers 
 entrusted to him. Then each elector would have the 
 strongest possible inducement to make a judicious choice: 
 first, because he would be one of a number sufficiently 
 limited to make his vote of decided consequence; and 
 secondly, because he would personally and continually feel 
 the good or ill effect of his selection. Now, the fittest 
 ‘persons to preside over the several districts would be also 
 the fittest to be the governors of the whole parish; and 
 
 therefore the self-interested feeling, which is the strongest 
 
 - i 
 J . 
 a - 
 
264, The Original. 
 
 and most constant, of each elector would be, made sub- 
 servient to the interest of his community. This is what Ia 
 mean, in my former article, by the words—* As the electors — 
 would come much into immediate contact with the objecteal 
 of their choice they would most likely—at least after a 4 
 little experience—be more careful and discriminating than 
 electors under other circumstances usually are. Mob- iq 
 flatterers, adventurers, and jobbers would be too nearly in 7 
 view long to escape detection.” Under such a system these 
 characters must either mend their course, or sink into 
 insignificance, to the great blessing of the country. | | 
 
 In the election of the heads of districts I should be 4a 
 inclined to give a vote to every man of competent age, 
 having anything like a settled inhabitancy, and I should 4 
 like the elections annual. The elected should be the re- 
 presentatives of their districts, to all intents and purposes; — 
 the inhabitants delegating to them for the year the whole of 4 
 their political power. Here would be the first step in a . 
 graduated system of representation—a principle absolutely a 
 necessary for the well-ordered government of a population | 
 so numerous as that of this country. The artificial system 
 of electing electors is a false one; but here the soundest j 
 test is applied. The head of a district, besides being its : 
 representative in the parish, and its delegate everywhere, : 
 should be a peace officer, with others under him elected 
 
 like himself; should superintend the collection of rates; 
 
> 
 
 Observance of the Sabbath. 
 
 _ and should see to the enforcement of all laws relating to 
 
 his charge—so that his attention to his duties, or his neglect 
 or vexatious execution of them, would be felt by all within 
 his jurisdiction. The evils arising from the present defi- 
 
 clencies of government might then be expected to vanish, 
 
 and the effects of moral influence, the most powerful of all, 
 
 would appear in their place. Division into organised dis- 
 tricts would afford practicable fields for the well disposed 
 to work in, instead of the unmanageable and hopeless 
 masses at present continually exposed to confusion and 
 
 misrule. The consideration of the inducements to the 
 
 _ most fitting persons to give up time sufficient to superintend 
 
 the affairs of their respective communities, I shall defer 
 till my next number. I will just add an observation of 
 ‘Dr. Johnson’s, as applicable to my doctrines. “I am a 
 friend to subordination, as most conducive to the happiness 
 of society. ‘There is a reciprocal pleasure in governing and 
 
 being governed.” 
 
 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 The following Letter, addressed to the Bishop of London 
 in my own name, appeared in the Z7mes of January 26th, 
 1833. It has been since so often mentioned to me in 
 terms of approbation, it is so much connected with parish 
 
 government, and the subject is so applicable to the 
 VoL. I. Q 
 
226 — The Original. | Se 
 present conjuncture, that I am induced to inne at 
 without any alteration. | 
 
 ‘¢My Lord,—Your Lordship’s position as Bishop of this’ 
 metropolis, your zeal and energy, and your particular 
 attention to the subject of this letter, make me decide 
 at once to whom to address it. 
 
 ‘The means of accomplishing a better observance of the 
 Sabbath have long occupied my thoughts, and were in- 
 tended to form a principal topic in a second part to my 
 pamphlet on pauperism, of which work your Lordship 
 has been pleased to express your approbation. I am 
 induced to write at this conjuncture by my conviction, 
 from constant experience as a magistrate, of the rapidly 
 increasing demoralisation of the lower classes, and by the 
 painful number I am obliged to witness of cases of vice 
 and misery, utterly remediless in the present very in- 
 adequate state of our civil and ecclesiastical local polity. 
 I shall confine myself on this occasion to only one 
 suggestion, which I believe would be the best practical 
 beginning of a more effective system. | 
 
 “To your Lordship, and all those by whom any sound 
 and far-reaching improvement is to be accomplished, it 
 would be quite superfluous to enlarge upon the advantages 
 of a. due observance of Sunday in a religious point of 
 view; but I wish to make an observation on the uses 
 
 of bringing the whole population one day in the week 
 
‘ | Observance of the Sabbath. 2277 
 
 “upon parade, if I may so express myself. The con- 
 
 sequences would be, a more general solicitude ‘to provide 
 
 things honest in the sight of all men, and a greater 
 
 _ carefulness to avoid whatever was individually lowering 
 
 in the general eye. Here is a forcible and constantly 
 
 recurring check on the evil doings of men, and on the 
 
 _ indiscretions of the other sex,—here is a most powerful 
 
 _ inducement to decency of appearance and behaviour ; and 
 
 if we contrast what must be the condition of a universally 
 
 church-going people with that of our present population, 
 
 tainted, preyed upon, and deranged by an untrained and 
 
 unobserved refuse, we shall come to the conclusion that 
 
 no pains and no expense would be too great, if only 
 for our own sakes, to bring about the change. I could 
 enlarge much upon this subject, and illustrate my observa- 
 tions by many facts; but a desire to be concise prevents 
 me from adding more than that I believe the proper 
 observance of a day of rest, even in a temporal view, 
 is of much greater importance to the well-being of society 
 than is generally conceived. I will take occasion here 
 to avow my conviction that a national Church is an 
 institution essential to a well-disciplined State, and that 
 it is for the general interest that that State should provide 
 accommodation for religious worship, with every induce- 
 ment to attend it, for those who otherwise would be 
 
 unprovided. A position has lately been taken that 
 Q2 
 
228 The Original. 
 
 Dissenters from the Church ought not to be called on to 
 contribute towards its maintenance, on the eround that 
 they pay for themselves, and derive no benefit from the 
 Establishment. As well might a dissenter from gas lights, 
 who should choose to carry his own lantern, protest against 
 being rated, on the ground that, as he lighted himself, he 
 derived no benefit from living in a lighted community. 
 The argument is founded on false premises, and goes to 
 the dissolution of society. 
 
 ““Of the mass of persons who have lost the habit of 
 going to a place of worship, or have never been there, 
 it is probable most, if not all, have at times an incli- 
 nation to change their course, either from some flash 
 of good feeling, from curiosity, from the influence of 
 remorse or calamity, or from some other temporary 
 excitement; but the difficulties that will ordinarily 
 present themselves to such must generally be too strong 
 for their diffidence or want of energy to overcome; 
 the’ favourable moment passes, and multitudes are lost, 
 or, being lost, lose all chance of being reclaimed. At 
 present the ‘harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers 
 are few.’ 
 
 “The plan I would propose is, that the incumbent 
 of each parish in the metropolis, with the churchwardens, 
 and a competent number of respectable inhabitants to_ 
 
 be approved of by the clergyman, should divide their 
 
Observance of the Sabbath. 229 
 
 t 
 
 * 
 
 ~ parish into convenient districts, and should, by personal 
 
 inquiry, ascertain how many in each district, at present 
 unprovided, would wish to attend a place of worship,— 
 that first, the utmost accommodation and facilities 
 should be afforded, so far as the existing churches or 
 chapels would allow ;—secondly, that rooms should be 
 licensed where clergymen could be procured and 
 remunerated ;—and, lastly, the two resources failing, 
 that discreet persons, not in orders, should be appointed 
 by the incumbent to read, in sufficient and convenient 
 places, prayers and a short plain, sermon, to be chosen 
 each week by the clergyman. ‘The duties of the persons 
 co-operating with the churchwardens should be to receive 
 and point out accommodation to those presenting 
 themselves at each place of worship, and to go round 
 their respective districts from time to time, to induce, 
 by a judicious manifestation of interest, an increasing 
 attendance. I think such a process would be productive 
 of excellent effects to both classes, and if any objection 
 is made to rooms, or officiators not in orders, my 
 answer is, that in the earliest ages of Christianity 
 rooms preceded churches, and would now lead to them, 
 and that if respectable laymen may not officiate to the 
 extent proposed, a large mass must be left destitute, or 
 fall into less desirable hands. 
 
 “With respect to the expense, I apprehend it would 
 
 Pee Pa ee 
 
 7T 
 
230 The Original. 
 
 be comparatively trifling. The services of the laymen 
 
 would of course be gratuitous, and rooms, no doubt, 
 would often be offered on the same terms, or, at most, 
 for a moderate consideration. I have myself had much 
 experience amongst the lower classes, and I should be 
 willing to give all the assistance in my power in the 
 furtherance of the plan, which I am convinced would 
 lead to a variety of beneficial results, greater than could 
 
 at the outset be calculated. 
 
 “I have the honour to be your Lordship’s faithful 
 
 servant.” 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEAT 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 After making many blunders in my endeavours to 
 improve my health, I discovered that I had fallen into 
 the great, but, I believe, common, error of thinking how 
 
 much food I could take in order to make myself strong, 
 
 rather than how much I could digest to make myself 
 
 well. I found that my vessels were overcharged, and 
 my whole frame encumbered with superfluities, in con- 
 sequence of which I was liable to be out of order from 
 the slightest exciting causes. I began to take less 
 sleep and more exercise, particularly before breakfast, 
 
 at which meal I confined myself to half a cup of tea 
 
The Art of attaining High Health. 2 ei 
 
 and a very moderate quantity of eatables. Idined at 
 one ‘o'clock from one dish of meat. and one of vegetables, 
 abstaining from everything else; and I drank no wine, 
 and only half a pint of table-beer. At seven I had 
 tea, observing the same moderation as at breakfast, 
 and at half-past nine a very light supper. If I was 
 ever hungry during any other part of the day, I took a 
 crust of bread or some fruit. My care was neither to 
 anticipate my appetite, nor to overload it, nor to disappoint 
 it—in fact, to keep it in the best possible humour. I 
 continued this course almost invariably for several months. 
 It was now the middle of a very fine summer, and I was 
 residing at home in the country, alone with my mother, 
 who was a remarkably easy and accommodating person ; 
 and to the contentment she inspired me with, I attribute 
 a good deal of the extraordinary state I arrived at. She 
 used frequently to say she could not help looking at me, 
 my features were so changed. Indeed I felt a different 
 being, light and vigorous, with all my senses sharpened. 
 I enjoyed an ‘absolutely glowing existence. I cannot help 
 mentioning two or three instances in proof of my State, 
 _ though I dare say they will appear almost ridiculous, but 
 they are nevertheless true. It seems that from the surface 
 of an animal in perfect health there is an active exhalation 
 going on, which repels impurity; for when I walked on 
 
 the dustiest roads, not only my feet, but even my stockings, 
 
\ 
 
 239 | The Original. 
 
 remained free from dust. By way of experiment, I did 
 not wash my face for a week, nor did any one see, nor 
 I feel, any difference. One day I took hold of the branch 
 of a tree to raise myself from the ground, when I was 
 astonished to feel such a buoyancy as to have scarcely 
 any sense of weight. In this state all my sensations 
 were the real and marked indications of my wants. No 
 faintness or craving, but a pleasurable keenness of appetite 
 told me when to eat. I was in no uncertainty as to when 
 I ought to leave off, for I ate heartily to a certain point, and 
 then felt distinctly satisfied, without any feeling of oppres- 
 sion. No heaviness, but a pleasing composure preceded my 
 desire for rest, and I woke from one sound glowing sleep 
 completely refreshed. Exercise was delightful to me, and 
 enough of it was indicated by a quiescent tendency, 
 without any harassing sensation of fatigue. I felt, and 
 believe I was, inaccessible to disease; and all this I 
 attribute to the state of my digestion, on which it seems 
 to me entirely depends the state of man. Being in health, 
 it is easy to keep so, at least where there are facilities of 
 living rationally ; but to get into health whilst living in the 
 world, and after a long course of ignorance or imprudence, 
 is of difficult attainment. 
 
 I do not consider it at all necessary, or even desirable, 
 to be strict in diet, when the constitution is once put intc 
 
 good order; but, to accomplish that end, it is certainly 
 
yi ilo tay Shahan d Feah teaser ue 6 i a 
 
 oe The Eve of Battle. : 233 
 
 essential. It also requires great observation and attention 
 
 to know what to practise and what to avoid in our habits 
 of life; and I see people constantly doing what is precisely 
 the most prejudicial to them, without the least conscious- 
 ness of theirerrors. It is now so long since I was in the 
 same state myself, that I find some difficulty in recollecting 
 with sufficient exactness what I might have thought it 
 necessary to lay down for the benefit of valetudinarians. 
 I will, however, in my next number, give some of the most 
 
 - important particulars. 
 
 THE EVE OF BATTLE. 
 
 “The Emperor kept the watch in the midst of his brave 
 men. The night presented a remarkable spectacle :—two 
 armies, the one of which extended its front upon a line of 
 
 xé six hours’ march, fired the air with its lights; in the other 
 the lights seemed to be brought into one small point ; and 
 in the one, as well as in the other, all was watchfulness 
 and motion. The lights of the two armies were at half 
 cannon-shot distance respectively ; the sentinels were 
 almost touching, and there was not a single. motion on 
 either side which could not be heard by the other.” 
 
 The above passage, cut out of a newspaper, is part of 
 Bonaparte’s bulletin of the battle, I believe, of Auerstadt. I 
 
 give it for its resemblance to the beginning of Shakespeare’s 
 
234 The Original. 
 
 Chorus to the Fourth Act of Henry the Fifth. The bul- 
 letin was fresh from the reality; and it makes me believe 
 that the poet’s description must have been taken from 
 some chronicle, or from some military writer. Indeed I 
 have often thought that much of what is ordinarily attri- 
 buted to imagination is rather the result of a talent for 
 happily appropriating what has been seen, or heard, or 
 read, and that Shakespeare possessed this talent in a more 
 eminent degree than any other person in any age or 
 country. Notwithstanding his imperfect education, he has 
 interwoven classical and scriptural lore into his works with 
 more skill and beauty than. Milton, or any of the most 
 learned writers, and often in a manner nearly imper- 
 ceptible. It is my belief that those who trust much to 
 imagination and little to observation will never make a 
 
 lasting impression on mankind. Imagination, I think, can 
 
 properly do little else than more or less vividly colour 
 
 outlines taken from reality, and I doubt that even Ariel 
 and Caliban are altogether exceptions. 
 
 I subjoin the greater part of the Chorus, on account 
 of other resemblances, besides those in its beginning, to 
 the extract from the bulletin. In the first place, Henry 
 and Bonaparte are equally represented as keeping the 
 watch in the midst of their men. Secondly, the pre- 
 sence of the hero of Agincourt is made to produce the 
 
 same re-animating effect which the Duke of Wellington’s 
 
2 : produced upon his fainting troops towards the conclusion 
 
 of the battle of Waterloo ; and lastly, Bonaparte’s appre- 
 
 hhension through the night lest the English should be 
 
 Papone, as mentioned by General Gourgaud, and the ex- 
 _ clamation attributed to him, when he saw them in the 
 _ morning—“ Now I have these English dogs!”—find a 
 parallel in the national feeling described by Shakespeare. 
 _ Dr. Johnson, whose strength did not lie in poetical criti- 
 cism, coldly says of these choruses, “The lines given to 
 the chorus have many admirers; but the truth is, that in 
 them a little may be praised, and much must be for- 
 
 given,” 
 * '* * * * * 
 ‘«‘ From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, 
 
 The hum of either army stilly sounds, 
 
 That the fix’d sentinels almost receive 
 
 The secret whispers of each other’s watch. 
 
 Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames 
 
 Each battle sees the other’s umber’d face...... 
 
 Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul, 
 
 The confident and over-lusty French 
 
 Do the low-rated English play at dice ; 
 
 And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night, 
 
 Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp 
 
 So tediously away. The poor condemned English, 
 
 Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires 
 
 Sit patiently, and inly ruminate 
 
 The morning’s danger...... 
 
 O, now, who will behold 
 
 The royal captain of this ruin’d band 
 
 Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent, 
 
 Let him cry—Praise and glory on his head! 
 
236 The Original. | 
 
 For forth he goes and visits all his host ; 
 
 Bids them good-morrow with a modest smile, 
 
 And calls them—brothers, friends, and countrymen. 
 Upon his royal face there is no note, 
 
 How dread an army hath enrounded him ; 
 
 Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour 
 
 Unto the weary and all watched night ; 
 
 But freshly looks and overbears attaint 
 
 With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty ; 
 
 That every wretch, pining and pale before, 
 Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.”...... 
 
 PUNCTUALITY. 
 
 If you desire to enjoy life, avoid unpunctual people. 
 They impede business and poison pleasure. Make it 
 your own rule not only to be punctual, but a little before- 
 hand. Such a habit secures a composure which is es- 
 sential to happiness. For want of it many people live 
 in a constant fever, and put all about them into a fever 
 too. To prevent the tediousness of waiting for others, 
 carry with you some means of occupation—a Horace or 
 Rochefoucault, for example—books which can be read by 
 
 snatches, and which afford ample materiais for thinking. 
 
 AGRICULTURE. 
 
 In looking into Coleridge’s Table Talk the other day, 
 I met with a passage in high commendation of the poet 
 
 Cowley’s Essays. It put me in mind of an extract I 
 
A 2 riculture, 207 
 
 formerly made from the one in praise of agriculture, 
 which I give below on account of its beauty. On some 
 future occasion I mean to pursue the subject, with 
 
 - reference to its present state in this country. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM COWLEY. 
 
 The first wish of Virgil was to be a good philosopher 
 —the second, a good husbandman ; and God (whom he 
 ‘seemed to understand better than most of the most 
 learned heathens) dealt with him just as he did with 
 Solomon—because he prayed for wisdom in the first place, 
 he added all things else, which were subordinately to be 
 desired. He made him one of the best philosophers 
 and best husbandmen; and to adorn and communicate 
 both these faculties, the best poet. He made him, besides 
 all this, a rich man, and a man who desired to be no 
 richer. To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the 
 city ; to be a philosopher, from the world; or rather, a 
 retreat from the world as it is man’s, into the world as 
 it is God’s. 
 
 But since Nature denies to most men the capacity or 
 appetite, and Fortune allows but to a very few the oppor- 
 tunities or possibility of applying themselves wholly to 
 philosophy, the best mixture of human affairs that we can 
 make is to be found in the employments of a country 
 
 life. It is, as Columella calls it, ‘‘Res sine dubitatione 
 
proxima et quasi consanguinea sapientiz,” the nearest — 
 
 1 
 
 neighbour, or rather next in kindred, to philosophy. : 
 
 Varro says, the principles of it are the same which ~ 
 
 Ennius made to be the principles of all nature, earth, — 
 
 water, air, and the sun. It does certainly comprehend 
 more parts of philosophy than any one profession, art, or 
 science in the world besides; and therefore Cicero says, 
 the pleasures of a husbandman, “mihi ad sapientis vitarn 
 proximeé videntur accedere,” come very nigh to those of 
 a philosopher. There is no other sort of life that affords 
 so many branches of praise to a panegyrist :—the utility 
 to a man’s self; the usefulness or rather necessity of it to 
 all the rest of mankind ; the innocence, the pleasure, the 
 antiquity, the dignity. ..... 
 
 If great delights be joined with so much innocence, I 
 think it is ill done of men not to take them here, where 
 they are so tame and ready at hand, rather than hunt 
 for them in courts and cities, where they are so wild, and 
 the chase so troublesome and dangerous. We are here 
 - among the vast and noble scenes of nature; we are there 
 among the pitiful shifts of policy: we work here in the 
 light and open ways of the divine bounty ; we grope 
 there in the dark and confused labyrinths of human 
 malice: our senses are here feasted with the clear and 
 genuine taste of their objects; which are all sophisticated 
 
 there, and for the most part overwhelmed with their 
 
a Mount Vesuvius. 239 
 
 and expensive luxury. 
 
 I shall only instance one delight more, the most natural 
 fe and best-natured of all others, and a perpetual companion 
 of the husbandman ; and that is the satisfaction of looking 
 round about him, and seeing nothing but the effects and 
 _ improvements of his own art and diligence; to be always 
 
 gathering some fruits of it, and at the same time to behold 
 others ripening and others budding; to see all his fields 
 _ and gardens covered with the beauteous creatures of his 
 own industry; and to see, like God, that all his works 
 Bre POOd. 0.6. 
 
 A man would think, when he is in a serious humour, 
 that it were but a vain, irrational, and ridiculous thing for a 
 great company of men and women to run up and down ina 
 room together, in a hundred several postures and figures, to 
 no purpose and with no design. Yet who is there among 
 our gentry that does not entertain a dancing-master for his 
 children as soon as they are able to walk? But did ever 
 any father provide a tutor for his son, to instruct him 
 betimes in the nature and improvements of that land which 
 
 he intended to leave him ? 
 
 MOUNT VESUVIUS. - 
 
 To have travelled has many advantages, and one is, that 
 
 annoyances and dangers, in recollection, become sources of 
 
240 The Original. 
 
 pleasures ;—add to which, in the language of Scripture, 
 
 “the affliction is but for a moment,” whilst the recollection — 
 
 endures for years. I advise those who are beginning their 
 travels to bear this in mind. 
 
 A few days after the eruption of Vesuvius, in February 
 1822, I ascended the mountain, in company with a friend 
 and attended by Salvatore, the well-known chief guide. It 
 was night before we arrived at the crater, which at that 
 time, we were told, was near three-quarters of a mile in 
 circumference. We lay down looking over the edge of 
 this vast caldron, whilst the lava sometimes boiled up as 
 if it would overwhelm us, roaring like a stormy pent-up 
 sea, and presenting the fiery appearance of molten iron 
 obscured by smoke ;—then it would sink down in silence 
 and leave us in total darkness. We forgot ourselves in the 
 awfulness of the scene, till Salvatore reminded us that it 
 was scarcely safe to remain. We had not left the place 
 above two minutes before we heard a crash. Salvatore 
 went back to see whence it proceeded, and on his return 
 informed us the very spot where we had been lying was 
 precipitated into the crater. I thought he said so to 
 enhance the interest of the expedition. When we arrived 
 at the beginning of the descent, he shouted as loud as he 
 could, by way of signal, to a boy whom he had stationed at 
 the foot of the cone, with orders to hold up a torch for us 
 
 to steer by. No torch appeared, and fearing the boy had 
 
Mount Vesuvius. 241 
 
 perished, we proceeded in darkness, except where lighted 
 
 ‘by the very brilliant colours of the yet burning lava. 
 Salvatore, notwithstanding his experience, missed his way, 
 and became somewhat confused. He knew we were in 
 danger of falling into hollow places, crusted over. We got 
 knee-deep into hot ashes, which burnt. off a pair of very 
 thick hose drawn over my feet and legs for their protection. 
 A sulphureous smoke became so suffocating that we must 
 have sunk under its effects had not Salvatore suggested the 
 expedient of breathing through two or three folds of our 
 silk handkerchiefs, which to our surprise afforded instant 
 and almost complete relief. At length, after repeated 
 shoutings, the torch was raised ; and when we reached the 
 boy, we found he had been engaged in roasting eggs for 
 us on the lava instead of listening for the signal. After 
 sleeping at the Hermitage, a sort of inn upon the mountain, 
 we re-ascended in the morning to see the sun rise; and we 
 were then made fully sensible how narrowly we had escaped 
 destruction, for the part where we had been lying had 
 wholly disappeared. 
 
 Later in the spring I made two other ascents—the first 
 with a party of thirty-five, including ladies and gentlemen, 
 servants, and guides. Whilst we were resting on the 
 ‘summit of the mountain, one of the gentlemen proposed, 
 in a sort of joke, to Salvatore to descend into the crater, 
 
 then in a state of repose. Salvatore took him at his word, 
 VoL, I. R 
 
242 The Original meee 2 
 
 and they immediately set off, followed by degrees by every 
 male present, more after the manner of sheep than of 
 rational beings. We arrived rapidly at the bottom, which 
 was at a considerable depth. It was full of small fissures, 
 through which issued short, pale flames, ane we were 
 obliged to keep changing our places on account of the heat 
 through our shoes. The stooping position necessary in 
 
 re-ascending the steep sides exposed us to a sulphureous 
 
 vapour, which was extremely annoying, and my hurry to. 
 
 escape made me neglect the expedient of the handkerchief. 
 On mustering at the top we found that one of the servants 
 was missing ; but before we could take steps for his safety, 
 he crawled out nearly suffocated. It was a rash adventure, 
 undertaken too precipitately to guard against danger, had 
 there been any, of which we were ignorant. 5 
 
 My last expedition afforded nothing worthy of note 
 except a scene at Salvatore’s, where I arrived by night with 
 a party of ladies, on their way to sleep at the Hermitage, 
 preparatory to an ascent the next morning. Salvatore’s 
 house stands in a court-yard, and has the stairs on the 
 outside. As our arrival was expected, the court was soon 
 completely filled with asses and mules, each under the 
 conduct of a boy carrying a torch. Salvatore posted him- 
 self at the foot of the stairs, with his jacket slung like a 
 military pelisse, and a truncheon in his hand. The steps 
 
 above him were occupied by blooming English girls, 
 
unt | “ive esuvins. 
 
 s 
 
 ‘The eagerness of the boys for preference— 
 
 ae s ‘vehement but graceful action as he poured forth 
 
 his oaths and brandished his truncheon—the passiveness of } | a. 
 
 tl e ladies—the contrast between their complexions and the 
 
 ee 
 _ swarthy ones of the Italians, a contrast much heightened 
 
 a t e Bevne eens the incessant vociferation, and the 
 
 : scene of such striking effect, that the lapse of thirteen 
 
 : shes has effaced from my recollection nothing of its 
 
 ; ys 
 
No. V.] WEDNESDAY, JUNE 17, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 I sHALL begin this article with some explanations of my’ 
 last on the same subject; and here let me advertise my 
 readers that my plan, throughout my writings, will be to 
 proceed in a familiar and desultory manner, rather than by 
 formal and unconnected dissertations, and that those who 
 wish to draw any profit from my labours, if any profit is to 
 be drawn, must read me, not cursorily, and now and then, 
 but regularly, and with attention, and must preserve my 
 numbers for the purpose of reference. My object is to. 
 induce my readers to put their minds in training, “by 
 setting before them,” as I expressed myself in my pre- 
 liminary address, “an alterative diet of sound and 
 comfortable doctrines.” Now, it is the nature of an 
 alterative diet to require time and perseverance. But to 
 return to my subject. 
 
 I must repeat that good government is only to be 
 expected from the selection of men of honourable and 
 business-like repute in the conduct of their own affairs; 
 
 and any systém which does not produce such selection, — 
 
Parochial Government. 245 
 
 however loudly cried up by the unthinking and _ their 
 deceivers, is false and worthless. Parishes are at present 
 too disorganised, and their powers of government are too 
 il directed and too limited, to hold out sufficient 
 inducement to the most fitting persons to interest them- 
 - selves in the management of them. ‘The best qualified are 
 generally the most adverse to interfere, and consequently 
 ‘a vast quantity of public spirit lies dormant, or is in a 
 
 manner wasted on the many expedients with which this 
 
 country abounds for supplying the deficiencies of local — 
 
 governments. Few people comprehend in their idea of 
 parish governments anything beyond the administration 
 of the poor-laws; whereas, if the governments were what 
 they ought to be, poor-laws would soon become unneces- 
 sary. Pauperism is a monster which looms large through 
 the midst of ignorance and misconception; but I, who 
 have grappled with and anatomised it in its various 
 forms, agricultural, commercial, and mixed, in Devonshire, 
 Herefordshire, Lancashire, and London, know perfectly 
 well that, under the influence of local self-governments 
 thoroughly organised, it would soon disappear from the 
 land. To the moral cripples around us under such 
 governments, we should have only to take the tone of 
 the apostle, when, stedfastly beholding the cripple at 
 Lystra, he cried out with a loud voice, “Stand upright 
 on thy feet”; and the cripple leaped and walked. So 
 
21 Meas The Original. 
 
 without any miracle, would it soon be here ! for poverty 
 in England is not from physical, but solely from moral 
 
 causes. Remove the multitudinous encouragements to 
 
 dependence, on the one hand—open as much as possible 
 
 the ways to self-advancement, on the other, and the 
 character of those who come within the baneful influence 
 of the poor-laws would be reversed. Parishes are little 
 States, which ought to exhibit in finished miniature the 
 principal features of large ones. ‘They should be prepara- 
 tory schools for the art of government, full of rivalry in 
 themselves, and with one another, in promoting the public 
 welfare—moral farms, divided, drained, and tilled, so as 
 to produce the richest harvests and the fewest weeds. 
 At present they are little better than neglected wastes. 
 The first division I have proposed into wards has already 
 a model on a larger scale in the wards of the city of 
 London, each having an alderman, his deputy, and a 
 certain number of common councilmen with their inferior 
 officers—only that many modifications would be neces- 
 sary. The city model did not begin low enough, that is, — 
 in the parishes throughout the land, so that the first 
 elements of government have remained crude and dis- 
 ordered, affecting upwards the whole frame with the 
 imperfections of its parts. 
 
 With respect to a “settled inhabitancy,” as a qualifica- 
 
 tion for voting for the head of a parish ward, or for the 
 
* 
 
 overnors of a whole parish not large enough to be divided 
 into wards, I should say, that having been usually resident 
 rs for six months previous to the election, and having, during 
 Fi that time, paid, whether weekly or otherwise, and however 
 _ little, for an occupancy, would be sufficient. I think the 
 7 population of each ward should not exceed a thousand, so 
 _ that the number of males, of competent age, qualified as 
 4 above, could not much exceed a hundred; therefore, on 
 the score of numbers, there could be no objection to so 
 low a qualification. Then the election would only be for 
 
 a year, and each voter would have a personal interest in 
 his choice. It is desirable to exercise as many as possible 
 
 im governing themselves, or in choosing those who are to 
 govern them; and here would be a safe approach to 
 universal suffrage in the election of those immediately in 
 authority over their fellow-citizens, and to be their repre- 
 sentatives in the parish, and in higher degrees of govern- 
 ment. Now let us suppose a parish containing thirty 
 thousand inhabitants divided into thirty wards, the resident 
 males of each ward, of competent age, and paying for their 
 occupancy, electing annually one of themselves to super- 
 intend their common interests, to keep the peace, and to 
 represent them in the parish government; there feeling 
 himself responsible for the good order and good condition 
 
 of his ward, with subordinate officers elected in like manner 
 
 to assist him. J-apprehend that under such a system, the 
 
PEER UTE a Ta Vc OT eee kt PP ee PL a ee § Le | ae Dai tee ST Sie Gs" 
 SE A EO RONG oll EOS et ee ean 
 ‘ oo ee tact ‘ 
 
 hal 
 
 248 | The Original. 
 
 moral influence created would go near to supersede the 
 necessity of legal restraints, and that greatly increased 
 
 powers of government, for the purposes of improvement, 
 
 might be safely and advantageously granted under so much ~ | 
 
 and such well-ordered popular control. 
 
 I now proceed to the consideration of the inducements ~ 
 
 of the most fitting persons to give up time sufficient to 
 superintend the affairs of their respective communities ; 
 and I suppose it will be universally granted that no con- 
 sideration on the subject of government can be of more 
 importance. ‘The principal reasons which deter men of 
 
 honourable feelings, and of habits of attention to their 
 
 own affairs, from taking much part in public concerns, I 
 
 apprehend to be—the difficulty, from want of proper 
 
 organisation, of effecting much good—the fleeting nature, 
 
 from the same cause, of any good effected—the want of 
 
 co-operation on the part of others like themselves—the 
 opposition of the interested and the factious—and the 
 
 grievous annoyance of popular elections. All these 
 
 objections, it seems to me, would be obviated by such ~ 
 
 division as I propose. Each district would be so small, 
 that an individual could with ease comprehend and watch 
 over its interests. Whatever good he could effect, he 
 might confidently anticipate would be preserved by the 
 simplicity of the machinery. Uniformity of division would 
 
 ensure uniformity of co-operation, whilst the interested and 
 
 . 
 ‘im 
 ' 
 
 . 
 
 4 
 
 ‘ 
 
 4 
 
 F 
 
a 
 
 Parochial Government. 
 
 the factious, as I have remarked before, would be too 
 nearly in view, and in too close contact with their fellow- 
 
 Citizens, to escape detection, and would soon consequently 
 
 be put to silence. It is only ina state of disorganisation 
 
 that such people can thrive. The election, though strictly 
 
 popular, would be subject to none of the disagreeable 
 circumstances incident to unwieldy constituencies, neces- 
 sarily without direct interests, and in which the worst 
 
 portion is almost always the most prominent. In parish 
 
 wards the compact number of electors, their clear and 
 substantial and. common interest to make a judicious 
 choice, their means of accurately judging, after a short 
 working of the system, whom to choose, and the freedom 
 and fairness of the election, would cause a very different 
 
 process from that which is witnessed amidst the corruptions, 
 
 and unreasonableness, and violence of the oligarchic and 
 
 ochlocratic systems. This is the first operation of what I 
 have called the democratic principle, or principle of self- 
 government, fitly organised ; one of the advantages of 
 which would be the production of a new race of characters, 
 for which at present there is no opening; and we may 
 judge of the soundness of the ochlocratic principle by the 
 fact that its extension has not exhibited a single instance 
 of an improvement of public men. 
 
 In the arrangement I propose, one strong inducement to 
 
 men of character and business to take the lead in the 
 
affairs of their respective divisions would be aes ‘appre . 
 hension of personal annoyance to themselves, and of 1 i : 
 to their every-day interests, if they allowed ill- qualified — 
 persons to be set in authority over them. Now, iia . 
 means can be devised to excite the respecte portion ofa 
 the community to take an active part in public affairs, that q 
 portion, all experience shows, is sure to prevail. It is ‘the 4 
 general supineness of the deserving that gives to the q 
 undeserving any chance of ascendency; and that supine- 3 
 ness cannot exist under the democratic principle itty: E 
 organised. Under any other principle it will always exist, — | 
 for the reasons stated in the article on the Principles 4 
 of Government, in my first number. Compact division a 
 under the constant inspection of men of character would, | 
 by that inspection alone, become greatly improved. Mere 
 authority prevails only as it presses; but authority joined ; 
 with worth dispels disorder, and, as it were, clears the . 
 moral atmosphere. What Plutarch says of the effect of q 
 Numa’s virtue, I have seen enough to know is true to nature; j 
 and here I must again most strongly recommend to nen | 
 reader’s attention the extracts from his life given in my second ~ 
 number—especially the beautiful passage in pages 18, 19. q 
 
 There would be other inducements to the best qualified _ 
 to become the heads of wards, which I shall mention when ~ 
 
 I come to consider the heads in their capacity of represen- 
 
 tatives in the parish councils. 
 
+ 
 
 | ee of extending it to those of the parish 
 
 - generally, and in some debased divisions it might possibly 
 
 for a time cause some slight inconvenience. But, in the 
 
 "first place, it is to be considered that the main principle 
 
 of the choosers having a strong common personal interest 
 
 in their choice can only be called into full action by such 
 a restriction ; secondly, that the present debasement could 
 
 not long continue under an improved organisation ; and 
 
 thirdly, that comparison on every side would soon operate 
 
 beneficially on elections—besides that the lowest classes 
 
 are the least jealous of their superiors, and the most so 
 
 of their equals and those only a little above them; add 
 
 _to which, the introduction of a few improper persons into 
 
 a body of men of weight would certainly end in the con- 
 
 fusion and retreat of the intruders. ‘The restriction of the 
 
 right of voting to those who have an immediate interest 
 
 f 
 
 in exercising their right, is the only sound principle ; 
 and the adoption of a sound principle, though attended 
 with some present inconvenience, must always end in 
 sound results—whereas the admission of an unsound 
 principle, in order to avoid partial or temporary evil, will 
 eventually produce greater evil still. 
 
 Lastly, it is to be observed, that the institution of 
 
ii) eee The Original. 
 
 parish wards would be no new or doubtful experiment. 
 It is only the combined application of two tried prin- 
 ciples ; the first, the true English one of self-government, 
 and the second, the principle of division carried down 
 to the point of personal control. It is a military division, 
 and civil principle; which is the only organisation by 
 which well-ordered and real freedom can exist. A parish 
 ward would be to a parish what a company is to a regi- 
 ment; and the head of the ward, with his deputy and 
 inferior assistants, would answer to the captain with his 
 lieutenant and non-commissioned officers. The company 
 is the foundation of the discipline and well-being of the 
 army, as the ward would be the foundation of the disci- 
 pline and well-being of the State. Military division, 
 combined with the principle of self-government, seems to 
 have been the system perfected by Alfred; and I have 
 so high an idea of its efficacy, as fully to believe the 
 accounts of the good order reported to have prevailed in 
 his reign. Besides, if the histories of him handed down 
 to us had been fictitious, they would, from the age in 
 which he lived, have made him superstitious and bigoted ; 
 but though he is always stated to have been devout, his 
 devotion is represented as pure as his love of justice. 
 It is only under a system of moral influence such as 
 his, that his noble saying, that men ought to be as 
 
 free as their own thoughts, has any sense. It supposes 
 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 
«Parochial Improvement. 253 
 
 perfect liberty of action to men made just by good 
 - government. 
 _ Ishall in my next number proceed to the consideration 
 
 of parish government in the aggregate. 
 
 - PAROCHIAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 e 
 
 The following extract is from the introduction to a 
 pamphlet of mine on Pauperism, first published in 1826. 
 I give it here, not on account of the particular subject, 
 but in connection with the preceding article, as a practical 
 
 proof of what might be effected in general improvement 
 by an organised superintendence under the authority of 
 _ the law. I was armed with no authority but that of 
 influence of my own creating, and had no organisation 
 _but a voluntary and a very imperfect one. The place, when 
 I began, was considered in a hopeless state of demoralisa- 
 tion, and its name was a sort of by-word in the country 
 round ; yet a great deal of the attention I bestowed upon 
 it was beyond what was required for its management, 
 and had for its object my own instruction. I made it my 
 constant aim to establish the principle of self-government, 
 and the consequence has been that the system I introduced 
 works well to this day. 
 “Jn August, 1817, an opportunity occurred to me of 
 
 commencing an experiment on the subject of pauperism in 
 
254 The Original. 
 
 the township of Stretford, in the parish of Manchester—a 
 
 district partly manufacturing, but principally agricultural, 
 
 and containing about 2,000 acres of land and as many 
 
 inhabitants. I began by procuring the adoption of some- 
 
 what the same plan as Mr. Sturges Bourne’s Select Vestry, 
 not then legalised—a suggestion of the neighbouring 
 magistrate, whom I consulted in the first instance, and 
 whose co-operation, as well as that of the most respectable 
 inhabitants, I uniformly met with, during a residence at 
 intervals of three years and a half. I soon found that 
 the magistrates as usual had no confidence in the overseers, 
 to the great gain of the paupers, whose appeals from the 
 overseers to the magistrates were incessant. I found that 
 the paupers were insolent in the extreme to the farmers, 
 and in a great measure their masters—that the paupers 
 were leagued together to get as much from the rates as 
 
 possible, and that they practised all sorts of tricks and im- 
 
 positions for that purpose—that the industrious labourers — 
 
 were discouraged—the well-disposed inhabitants afraid, or 
 persuaded that it was in vain to interfere—and every 
 individual driven to do the best he could for himself or 
 his connections at the general expense. For some time 
 the paupers tried every art to deceive or tire me out, 
 and some of the ratepayers who were ousted from the 
 
 management thwarted me in secret; but the good effects 
 
 of the new system became so apparent, both as to economy j 
 
Parochial Improvement. 255 
 
 and good order, that opposition grew less and less, and 
 at last suddenly and entirely ceased. I spent almost my 
 _ whole time for some months in visiting the labouring 
 classes—in making myself master of their habits—in 
 explaining to them the causes of their distress—and in 
 enforcing, as occasions arose, the doctrines of Mr. Malthus,* 
 which I took care to put in the most familiar and pointed 
 manner I was able, and I was surprised to see the effect 
 generally produced—it was as if a new light had broken 
 in upon my hearers. By degrees I gained their confidence 
 —they constantly applied to me to settle their disputes, or 
 for legal advice, or for assistance in whatever difficulties 
 they found themselves; and as I was frequently able to 
 serve them, I found that circumstance of great advantage 
 in carrying into execution any measure of severity or 
 -privation. With respect to former abuses in the manage- 
 ment I made it a rule never to look back, but held that 
 neglect on one side and imposition on the other had 
 balanced the account, and that it would be better to look 
 only to the future. I found this plan attended with the 
 best effects. Those who had really wished for what was 
 right were not revolted by any appearance of harshness ; 
 
 and instead of wrangling about the past, everything went 
 
 * IT mean the doctrines Mr. Malthus himself laid down, not those 
 
 ignorantly attributed to him. 
 
2 56 The Original. 
 
 on well for the present, and not one retrograde movement 
 was made. A few hours in the week soon became sufficient 
 
 to do all the business, and at last a trifling superintendence 
 
 was alone necessary. Information came to me from all | 
 
 quarters—the league amongst the paupers was dissolved— 
 appeals to the magistrates, whose unvaried countenance I 
 experienced, entirely ceased—the rates were considerably 
 
 diminished—the labourers depended more upon them- 
 
 selves, and were generally better off—and, what was most 
 
 important, new principles were gaining ground. ~ 
 
 “The amount of money paid to the poor during the 
 years of my occasional superintendence, exclusive of the 
 maintenance of those in the workhouse and of the expense 
 
 of a few articles of clothing, was as follows :— 
 
 ex eee 
 
 From March 1817 to March 1818 . : : 812 16 6 
 1818 PSIG, : ; 537 19 7% 
 
 1819 1820 . i . 489 12 6 
 
 1820 1o2 0a : , 368 4 O 
 
 “‘When I first interfered in August, 1817, it was the 
 practice to admit families into the workhouse; at the time 
 my interference ceased, the number of inmates was reduced 
 to eight, viz., six aged persons and two young women—one 
 of the latter half idiotic, and the other labouring under 
 severe disease. Three of the old men broke stones for the 
 roads, and the idiotic girl maintained herself. In fact, 
 
 a workhouse was become quite unnecessary. Before the 
 
~The Art of attaining High Health. 
 “ae re he f : 
 
 Pai Lapey sy : : 
 _ commencement of the alteration of system, the expenses of a, 
 oo pauperism were rapidly increasing, and the reduction was 
 solely owing to that species of amendment in management 
 
 __ which may be put in practice under any circumstances.” 
 Lote to Second Edition, published in 1831. 
 
 The last opportunity I had of seeing the effects of my 
 system was in September 1828, when I made the following 
 
 extract from the Poor’s Books :— 
 
 . heated. 
 May 1817, Monthly payments to regular poor . 68 3 6 
 
 1818, , ‘ : : : ; : eae SRLS Oo 
 
 . 1027;)". . ° : ° ‘ : «LS 22540 
 » 4 3828; . ; ; ; . : ; Pad x We Cosi « 
 
 In April of this Present year, 1835, I attended a town’s 
 meeting for half an hour, after a lapse of fourteen years, 
 and found the business carried on just as when I was there 
 before ; and I learnt it was in contemplation to abandon 
 
 the workhouse on the 21st of this month, as useless. 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 As I have stated in the beginning of this number, I shall 
 follow in my observations upon health the familiar and 
 desultory style, writing down what I have to say just as it 
 occurs to me. 
 
 This is the golden rule—Content the stomach, and the 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 — Lhe Original. 
 
 stomach will content you. But it is often no easy matter to 
 know how; for like a spoiled child, or a wayward wife, it 
 does not always know its own wants. It will cry for food : 
 when it wants none—it will not say when it has had 
 enough, and then be indignant for being indulged—will 
 crave what it ought to reject, and reject what it ought to 
 desire ; but all this is because you have allowed it to form 
 bad habits, and then you ignorantly lay upon poor Nature 
 your own folly. Rational discipline is as necessary for the 
 stomach as for the aforesaid child or the aforesaid wife, and 
 if you have not the sense or the resolution to enforce it, 
 you must take the consequences ; but do not lay the fault 
 upon another, and especially one generally so kind, if you 
 would but follow her simple dictates. “I am always 
 obliged to breakfast before I rise—my constitution requires 
 it,” drawls out some fair votary of fashion. “Unless I 
 take a bottle of port after dinner,” cries the pampered 
 merchant, “I am never well.” ‘ Without my brandy-and- 
 water before I go to bed, I cannot sleep a wink,” says the 
 comfortable shopkeeper ; and all suppose they are following 
 nature ; but sooner or later the offended goddess sends her 
 avenging ministers in the shape of vapours, gout, or dropsy. 
 
 Having long gone wrong, you must get right by degrees ; 
 there is no summary process. Medicine may assist, or give 
 temporary relief; but you have a habit to alter—a tendency 
 
 to change—from a tendency to being ill to a tendency 
 
The Art of attaining High Health. 259 
 
 to being well. First study to acquire a composure of 
 mind and body. Avoid agitation or hurry of one or 
 the other, especially just before and after meals, and 
 whilst the process of digestion is going on. To this end, 
 govern your temper—endeavour to look at the bright 
 side of things—keep down as much as possible the unruly 
 passions—discard envy, hatred, and malice, and lay your 
 head upon your pillow in charity with all mankind. Let 
 not your wants outrun your means. Whatever difficulties 
 you have to encounter, be not perplexed, but think only 
 what it is right to do in the sight of Him who seeth 
 all things, and bear without repining. the result. When 
 your meals are solitary, let your thoughts be cheerful ; 
 when they are social, which is better, avoid disputes, or 
 serious argument, or unpleasant topics. ‘ Unquiet meals,” 
 says Shakespeare, ‘make ill digestions” ; and the contrary 
 is produced by. easy conversation, a pleasant project, wel- 
 come news, or a lively companion. I advise wives not 
 to entertain their husbands with domestic grievances 
 about children or servants, nor to ask for money, nor 
 produce unpaid bills, nor propound unseasonable or pro- 
 voking questions; and I advise husbands to keep the 
 cares and vexations of the world to themselves, but to be 
 communicative of whatever is comfortable, and cheerful, 
 and amusing. 
 
 With respect to composure of body, it is highly expedient 
 $2 
 
260 The Original. 
 
 not to be heated by exercise, either when beginning a> 
 
 meal, or immediately after one. In both cases fermen- 
 tation precedes digestion, and the food, taken into the 
 stomach, becomes more or less corrupted. I will mention 
 two strong instances. <A pig in high health was driven 
 violently just after a full meal: it dropped down dead, 
 
 and at the desire of some labourers, who thought it was 
 
 too good to be lost, a butcher forthwith proceeded to’ 
 
 dress it. When the hair was scalded off, the skin 
 presented in some places a somewhat livid hue, and 
 when the stomach was opened the contents were so 
 extremely offensive that all present, of whom I was one, 
 were obliged to fly, and the carcase almost immediately 
 became a mass of putridity. The second case was that 
 of a man in the service of a relation of mine, who, 
 after a harvest supper, and a hot day’s labour, was 
 thrown in a wrestling match, by which he instantly died, 
 and decomposition took place so rapidly that it was with 
 difficulty his body within four-and-twenty hours could be 
 placed in a coffin. Whilst I was subject to the affection 
 
 of the trachea before mentioned, I frequently brought 
 
 on the most distressing attacks, and sometimes instan- 
 
 taneously, by heating myself just before or after meals. 
 Even dressing in a hurry ought to be avoided previously 
 to a meal, and I should advise all, especially invalids, 
 
 to be ready a little beforehand, as the mind is also often 
 
Courteous Forbearance. 261 
 
 in a state of hurry prejudicial to digestion. After meals, 
 stooping, leaning against the chest, going quick up stairs, 
 Opening or shutting a tight drawer, pulling off boots, 
 | packing up, or even any single contortion or forced 
 position of the body, has each a tendency to cause 
 fermentation, and thereby produce bile, heart-burn, dif- 
 ficulty of breathing, and other derangements.. I have 
 often experienced ill effects from washing my feet at 
 night instead of in the morning, fasting, which is decidedly 
 the safest time. -Of course, persons in high health may 
 allow themselves liberties ; but those who are at all liable 
 to indigestion cannot be too observant of even their 
 most trifling actions. In my next number I shall take 
 
 up the subject of diet. 
 
 COURTEOUS FORBEARANCE. 
 
 A gentleman, making a morning call upon a late county 
 member of great taste and scrupulous courtesy, was 
 accompanied into a library by a beautiful kid, which he 
 found standing at the street door. During the conversa- 
 tion the animal proceeded round the room, examining 
 the different objects of art with ludicrous curiosity, till 
 coming to a small bronze statue, placed upon the floor, 
 he made a butt at it and knocked it over. The owner 
 
 of the house taking no notice, his visitor observed : 
 
262 The Original. 
 
 “That kid is a special favourite, I perceive ; how long 
 have you had it?” ‘/ had it!” exclaimed the virtuoso 
 in an agony, “I thought it had been yours.” ‘ Mine !” 
 
 said the gentleman, with no less astonishment, “it is not 
 
 mine, I assure you.” Whereupon they both rose, and 
 
 by summary process ejected the intruder. 
 
 SAYINGS. 
 
 The taxes of state are more oppressive than the state 
 taxes. 
 
 Private comfort and public magnificence constitute the 
 perfection of society. 
 
 The cheapest government is not the best, but the best 
 government is the cheapest; that is, God’s few at the top, 
 well paid by God’s many. 
 
 Philosophy is a fire of rotten sticks flickering in a desert, 
 with all around cold and dark. Religion is the glorious 
 sun, cheering and illuminating universally. 
 
 What an annoyance are long speakers, long talkers, and 
 long writers !—people who will not take time to think, 
 or are not capable of thinking accurately. Once when 
 Dr. South had preached before Queen Anne, her Majesty 
 observed to him, ‘You have given me a most excellent 
 discourse, Dr. South ; but I wish you had had time to have 
 
 made it longer.” ‘Nay, madam,” replied the Doctor, ‘if 
 
 —————— 
 
 + dwt eS, 2 a a 
 
Derivations. 263 
 
 I had had time, I should have made it shorter.” The 
 model of a debate is that given by Milton in the opening 
 
 of the second book of “ Paradise Lost.” 
 
 DERIVATIONS. 
 
 ‘There 1s no word in the English language so much 
 
 _ abbreviated from its original as the word “alms,” from 
 
 the Greek érenuosivn, Six syllables are contracted into one ; 
 thus, el-e-e-mos-u-ne—elmosune—elmosn (from which the 
 French aum6ne,) alms ; in Italian limosina, from the same 
 original. The practice amongst modern nations of appro- 
 priating different parts of words from the dead languages, 
 is by no means uncommon; as in the proper name 
 Johannes, the English take the first part, John; and the 
 Dutch the last, Hans. These instances of derivation made 
 an impression upon me, because they were told me when 
 a boy, by the two greatest masters of their day in language : 
 the first by Horne Tooke; the second by Porson: both 
 of whom possessed the gratifying faculty of adapting their 
 conversation to the young and the unlearned. The word 
 alms in the original signifies something given from the 
 motive of pity ; but however amiable the feeling, we should 
 be careful not to indulge it idly and indiscriminately. It is 
 often said, we ought to give for our own sakes without 
 
 inquiry—in my opinion a very unsound and selfish doctrine. 
 
264" — The Original. 
 
 It is difficult to bestow charity without doing more harm 
 
 than good. We not only run the risk of paralysing the 
 
 moral energies of the immediate objects of our bounty, 
 
 but of those who hope to become so. Giving with discre- 
 tion is a great virtue; it is twice blest, and the extent of 
 its benefits can never be foreseen to either party. Illustra- 
 tive of this is the following narrative ; the first. part of which 
 
 is true to the letter. 
 
 A FEW SHILLINGS WELL LAID OUT. 
 
 As the burly coachman of one of the northern stages was 
 remounting his box one bleak November night at the door 
 of a little inn noted for spiced ale— 
 
 “How much will you take me to London for?” said a 
 thinly clad boy of about fourteen, in a soft and doubting 
 tone. The coachman turned round, and with a look of 
 contempt, slightly qualified by pity, growled out— 
 
 **Can’t take you for less than half-a-crown.” 
 
 “T have only a shilling left,” said the boy. 
 
 “Why didn’t you say so at first?” said the coachman, 
 replacing his foot on the nave of the wheel. The boy 
 retreated a step into the shade. 
 
 “Come, jump up, my lad,” cried a gentleman on the 
 coach. “I will find you eighteenpence.” 
 
 “Are you not very cold?” said the gentleman, after a 
 
 short interval. 
 
: ioe ' Pee 
 __ “Not very,” replied the boy, rubbing his hands cheerily 
 
 up and down in the pockets of his cotton trousers. “Not 
 
 "very ; I was thinking of London.” 
 “And what are you going to do there?” said the 
 - gentleman. The boy replied that he was going to be 
 bound apprentice to his uncle, who kept a cook’s shop in 
 the Borough. Then -he told his own little history, and 
 how he had travelled up one hundred and fifty miles with 
 the few shillings his widowed mother had been able to 
 muster for him; and he concluded with a very intelligent 
 account of his native place, and a no less amusing one 
 of the principal people in its neighbourhood. 
 “And what do you intend to do to-night?” said the 
 _ gentleman. 
 —-«&T shall go to my uncle’s,” replied the boy. 
 “¢ But how will you find him out? We shall not arrive 
 ire midnight ; besides, your uncle will be gone to bed. 
 Come, I will give you five shillings, and you can stay 
 
 _ comfortably at the inn till morning.” 
 
 (To be continued.) 
 
No. VL] WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 ST 
 
 PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 (Continued.) 
 I was asked the other day by an inhabitant of one of the 
 great squares, what there could possibly be to do for the 
 head of a parish ward, supposing parishes to be divided 
 as I propose. Let us suppose the parish, in which the 
 square is situated, to be divided, and the square to be — 
 one of the wards, and that the management of everything 
 which relates generally to the interests of the parish, such 
 as lighting, paving, cleansing, police, and pauperism, was 4 
 centered in the parish council, consisting of the heads of 
 the different wards. Now the square being inhabited by q 
 rich people, a rich man would be elected for its head, 
 one who had a common interest with those over whom he 
 was immediately placed, which interest he would represent 
 in the council, and ‘superintend in the ward. He would 
 have a voice in raising the general supplies, and authority 
 to see to their particular application in his own ward. 
 He would have a perfect knowledge of his district, and a 
 constant eye to its good management. He would be an ~ 
 
 easy channel for the other inhabitants to apply through, in 
 
Parochial Government. 267 
 
 case of any complaint to redress, or any suggestion to 
 offer. He would be the guardian of the peace of his 
 ward, and responsible for it, with his subordinate officers 
 to assist him. His personal superintendence would be a 
 check to anything detrimental to the common interest. 
 He would be able to collect the bulk of the rates free 
 of expense, returning the defaulters, if any, to be dealt 
 with by the council. He would have authority sufficient 
 ‘to maintain the interests of his ward, and would be 
 sufficiently controlled not to be able to maintain them at 
 the expense of the interests of the parish. He would 
 have a compact and practicable field for the discharge of 
 his public duty, and would have an opportunity, if he were 
 _so minded, as no doubt many would be, to distinguish his 
 year or years of office by acts of munificence and public 
 spirit. Whatever information or returns were wanted, they 
 could, through his ase be easily and accurately obtained. 
 In such a ward the duties would be lighter and more 
 simple than in poorer and less cultivated ones; but still 
 there would be evils to prevent, and advantages to procure, 
 as well as to see to the due management of the ordinary 
 business; and such a superintendence, made universal, 
 could not fail to ensure the spread of good government, 
 and of local improvement, with great rapidity. I shall 
 have more to say on this subject in my observations on 
 
 parish government in the aggregate, which I will endeavour 
 
Neh Ti mea: ae Gt) By efi wey Rak te Ae ig Rs ce race a a 
 : rid a ra 7 ES aS ‘ y : LP be iy ‘ ak ‘ a These ' mi fi ae i i i a ae bi bt 
 ei ty ’ Neat Vet be hat; eeoeh et 
 
 - i wl '<%, ee e hand , hy et f oy 
 
 : . Gn5 ) 
 
 St 
 
 268 The Original. 
 
 to condense in my next number, so as to conclude the 
 
 ' subject. 7 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 ( Continued.) . 
 
 I must begin with a few remarks on my last article. I ; 
 have there dwelt on the ill consequences of being heated 
 by exercise just before or after meals. ‘There is one case 
 which seems to be almost an exception; I mean that of 
 dancing immediately before or after supper—at least, I ) 
 never suffered any inconvenience from it in my ailing days, 
 though I cannot speak from much experience. But further, 
 
 I do not call to mind any instances in other persons, and 
 at any rate they cannot be so common as would be the 4 
 case from any other mode of equal exertion under similar — 
 circumstances. The reason I take to be this—that from 
 the enlivening effect upon the spirits, the digestive powers 4 
 are able to overcome any tendency to fermentation; and 
 if that be so, it proves the extreme healthfulness of the 
 
 ' exercise, when taken rationally and for its own sake, instead 
 of, as it usually is, as an exhibition, in over-crowded and — 
 over-heated rooms at the most unseasonable hours. | 
 
 I particularly recommended in my last number attention — 
 to the state of the mind, because the effect of the spirits is 4 
 very great and often even instantaneous in accelerating or re- 
 
 tarding the digestive powers ; and upon the digestive powers — 
 
'§ £ ‘ 
 
 i 
 
 The Art of attaining High Health. 269 
 
 immediately depends whatever happens to our physical 
 being. Whenever food is taken into the stomach, it begins 
 _ directly to undergo a change, either from the action of the 
 gastric juice, which is the desirable one, or from that of the 
 natural heat. In the latter case, a sensation of fuilness and 
 _ weight is first produced, and then of more active uneasiness, 
 as fermentation proceeds ; and at last, when digestion 
 commences, it is upon a mass more or less corrupted, 
 according to the quantity and nature of the food, the time 
 it has remained, the heat of the body, and perhaps other 
 circumstances. The mind will frequently regulate all 
 this, as I have repeatedly experienced; for a feeling of 
 lightness or oppression, of fermentation or quiescence, will 
 come or go as the spirits rise or fall, and the effect is 
 generally immediately perceptible in the countenance, and 
 felt throughout the whole frame. Such influence has the 
 mind on the digestive powers, and the digestive powers on 
 the body ; and when we speak of a light or heavy heart, 
 we confound it with a less romantic organ. ‘The heart, it 
 is true, will beat quicker or slower, but the lightness or 
 heaviness we feel is not there. There is-no sickness of 
 the heart: it needs no cordial ; and the swain who places 
 his hand in front, whatever the polite may think, is the 
 right marksman. ‘There lies our courage, and thence 
 proceed our doubts and fears. These truths should make 
 
 us careful how we live ; for upon the digestive organ mainly 
 
270 — The Original. 
 
 depend beauty and strength of person, and beauty and 
 strength of mind. Even the most eminently gifted have 
 never been proof against its derangement. It is through 
 the digestion that grief and all the brooding affections of the 
 mind affect the frame, and make the countenance fallen, 
 pale, and liny, which causes Shakespeare to call it “ hard- 
 favoured grief,” and to say that “ grief is beauty’s canker.” 
 
 On the other hand, joy, or any pleasurable affection of the 
 
 mind, which promotes digestion, at the same time fills and 4 
 
 lights up the countenance. Often when I have been taking 
 a solitary meal, the appearance of an agreeable companion, 
 or reading any good news, has produced an instantaneous 
 effect upon my digestive organs, and, through them, upon 
 my whole frame. In the same way a judicious medical 
 attendant will, in many cases, by talking his patient into 
 an appetite, or raising his spirits, do him more good than 
 by any medicines. That all this is through the stomach, 
 I will prove by two instances. First, no one will doubt : 
 that the scurvy proceeds from the state of that organ, and 
 that through that organ alone it can be cured. Now, I 
 have read in medical writers that after a tedious voyage 
 sailors grievously afflicted have repeatedly been known to 
 have instantaneously experienced a turn in the disorder on 
 the sight of land, and that soldiers besieged have been 
 affected in like manner on the appearance of succour; 
 
 that is, the spirits have produced the same effect that 
 
Oh Tk 2s aie, Se Be 
 as 4. a ys * 
 
 The Art of attaining High Health. 27% 
 
 medicine or proper food would have produced, which 
 must have been through the same organ. The second 
 instance is what I have several times observed in my own 
 person. When I have had any local inflammation from 
 hurts, however remotely situated, what has affected my 
 digestion has at the same moment affected the inflammation, 
 Fasting too long, eating too soon, taking too much wine, 
 or having my spirits lowered, have instantly been un- 
 pleasantly perceptible in the seat of the inflammation ; 
 whilst taking food or wine when wanted, or having my 
 spirits raised, have produced the direct contrary effect. 
 How this is effected anatomically, I leave to the scientific to 
 explain. I only know it from observation; but I do know 
 it, and how to profit by it, and I tell it to my readers that 
 they may profit by it too, which brings me to a repetition 
 of my rule—Content the stomach, and the stomach will 
 content you. 
 
 To the caution I gave against stooping after meals, I 
 should add that it is particularly to be avoided with any- 
 thing tight round the body, and the same may be said of 
 all the actions I have enumerated. They are also perni- 
 cious in proportion as the meal has been full or rich. 
 Anything greasy or strong, especially the skin of the fat 
 of roast meat, when disturbed by exertion, will produce 
 the most disagreeable effects, or perhaps bring on a regular 
 
 bilious attack. Packing up, preparatory to a long journey 
 
272 The Original. 
 
 by a public vehicle, used often to be a cause of serious 
 
 inconvenience to my health from my mode of doing it. 
 First of all laying in a hearty meal, because I had a great 
 distance to go, the very reason why I ought to have been 
 abstemious: then having to finish packing after eating, 
 with more things than room for them, the hurry, vexation, 
 and exertion of arranging which, together with the fear of 
 
 being too late, and bustling off, caused such a fermentation 
 
 as not only made my journey most uncomfortable, but — 
 
 made me generally out of sorts for some time after. When 
 I had brought myself into a regular state of health, and 
 took care always to be beforehand with my arrangements, 
 eating sparingly, and setting off Combpenerial I found an 
 immense difference, particularly in the absence of any 
 feeling of being cramped in my limbs, which feeling was 
 always annoying in proportion to my improper living. I 
 find my supplementary observations have extended so much 
 further than I contemplated, that I must defer commencing 
 the subject of diet till next week; but I was unwilling to 
 omit any details which might be useful, though at the 
 
 risk of being on some points too minute. 
 
 DOCTOR GREGORY’S DESCRIPTION OF 
 HEALTH. 
 
 What I have said in preceding numbers respecting the 
 
 state of health I once attained is not, I find, easily credited 
 
 —- 2 
 
ee ea 
 
 Dr. Gregory's Description of Flealth. 273 
 
 by those who have not had similar experience. I subjoin a 
 passage from high professional authority—that of Dr. James 
 Gregory, late Professor of Medicine in Edinburgh—confirma- 
 tory of my positions; and those who will take the trouble to 
 make the comparison will find how fully I am borne out. 
 ‘The passage was pointed out to me many years since by a 
 physician, and I extracted it at the time, but had forgotten 
 its cen terits till I had the curiosity to refer to it the 
 
 | other day, and I now give, an abbreviated translation 
 from the original Latin. I believe it is principally taken 
 from Celsus. My most staggering assertion I take to 
 be this; “It seems that from the surface of an animal 
 
 in perfect health there is an active exhalation going on, 
 which repels impurity ; for when I walked on the dustiest 
 roads, not only my feet, but even my stockings, remained 
 free from dust.” Dr. Gregory says of a person in high 
 health—“ the exhalation from the skin is free and con- 
 stant, but without amounting to perspiration,’—evhalatio 
 per cutem Libera et constans, citra vero sudorem, which 
 answers with remarkable precision to “my active exhala- 
 tion,” and the repulsion of impurity is a necessary 
 consequence. In fact, it is perspiration so active as to 
 fly from the skin instead of remaining upon it, or suffering 
 anything else to remain ; just as we see an animal in 
 high health roll in the mire, and directly after appear 
 
 as clean as if it had been washed. I enter into these 
 OL, 1. ‘ ay 
 
Pe DS, Mor | lecRe Ae a: Rae itera ie a 
 
 tvs 
 
 ~ 
 
 ! 
 4 
 
 274 The Original, 
 
 particulars, not to justify myself, but ‘to gain the con- — 
 fidence of my readers, not only on this particular subject, q 
 but generally—more especially as I shall have frequent 4 
 occasion to advance things out of the common way, 4 
 though in the way of truth. I have before remarked 5 
 that well-grounded faith has great virtue in other things a 
 besides religion. The want of it is an insuperable bar 
 to improvement in things temporal, as well as in things 
 spiritual, and is the reverse of St. Paul’s “rejoiceth in — 
 the truth, believeth all things, hopeth all things”; for it : 
 believes nothing and hopes nothing. It is the rule of 4 
 an unfortunate sect of sceptics in excellence, who, at the — 
 mention of anything sound, look wonderfully wise, and — 
 shake their heads, and smile inwardly—infallible symptoms | ‘ 
 of a hopeless condition of half-knowledge and self-conceit. 
 But to return to the passage, which is as follows : 
 
 “When a man is in perfect health, his mind is not 3 
 only equal to the ordinary occasions of life, but is able y 
 easily to accommodate itself to all sorts of situations — 
 and pursuits ; his perception, understanding, and memory 
 are correct, clear, and retentive; he is firm and composed, _ 
 whether in a grave or a lively humour—is always himself, 
 and never the sport of inordinate affections or external ; 
 accidents ; he commands his passions instead of obeying 
 them ; he enjoys prosperity with moderation, and adversity 
 
 with fortitude, and is roused, not overwhelmed by extra- 
 
ar if" 
 
 Dr. Gregory's Description of Health. 275 
 
 ordinary emergencies. These are not only the signs of 
 a healthy mind, but of a healthy body also: and indeed 
 they do not a little contribute to health of body; for as 
 _ long as the mind is shut up within it, they will mutually 
 and much affect ‘each other. 
 “The muscles are full and firm, the skin soft, almost 
 - moist, and never dry; the colour, especially of the face, 
 ‘fresh and constant, and, whether fair or dark, never 
 approaching to pale or yellow; the countenance animated 
 and cheerful; the eyes bright and lively ; the teeth sound 
 and strong; the step firm ; the limbs well supporting the 
 body ; the carriage erect; every sort of exercise easy ; 
 -and labour, though long and hard, borne without incon- 
 venience ; all the organs of sense acute, neither torpid 
 nor too sensitive ; sleep light and long, not easily disturbed, 
 refreshing, and either without dreams, or at least without 
 unpleasant ones, steeping the senses in sweet forgetfulness, 
 or filling the mind with pleasant images. Other signs of 
 a healthy body are the temperate circulation of the blood, 
 the pulse strong, full, soft, equal, neither too quick nor 
 too slow, nor easily raised beyond the ordinary rate ; the 
 respiration full, easy, slow, scarcely apparent, and not 
 much accelerated by exercise; the voice strong and 
 sonorous, and in men deep, not easily made hoarse ; the 
 breath sweet, at least without anything to the contrary ; 
 
 : the mouth moist; the tongue bright and not too red; the 
 
 T 2 
 
276 The Original. 
 
 appetite strong, and requiring no stimulants; the thirst 
 moderate; the digestion of all sorts of food easy ; without 
 any fermentation or sensation of oppression; and the 
 exhalation from the skin free and constant, but without 
 amounting to perspiration except from the concurrence of 
 strong causes.” | 
 
 There is one very important conclusion to be drawn 
 from the above description, and that is, that a high state 
 of health is a high moral state, which is the reverse of 
 what would be generally supposed. Dr. Gregory says that 
 a man in perfect health is not the sport of inordinate 
 affections, and that he commands his passions instead of 
 obeying them, which means that there is no physical 
 excess to make the affections and passions unruly, but 
 that, like temperate gales, they waft him on his course, 
 instead of driving him out of it. What is generally 
 called high health is a pampered state, the result of — 
 luxurious or excessive feeding, accompanied by hard or i 
 exciting exercise, and such a state is ever on the borders 
 of disease. It is rather the madness, or intoxication of 
 health than health itself, and it has a tincture of many of , 
 
 the dangerous qualities of madness and intoxication. 
 
 TWO GOOD DISHES. 
 As the fruit season is at hand, I give a receipt for 
 
 preparing it, which I think ought to be much more 
 
Two Good Dishes. by 
 
 common than it is. From the failures I have seen, I 
 suppose it requires some skill and attention; but, when 
 well managed, it furnishes a dish tempting in appearance, 
 very agreeable to the palate, and much more wholesome 
 than fruit with pastry. It is excellent for luncheon, or 
 for supper, when any is wanted, and is very grateful, 
 cold, in hot weather. It applies to every kind of fruit 
 that is made into tarts, and is particularly good with ripe 
 peaches or apricots, and with green gage or magnum 
 bonum plums. 
 
 Wash a sufficient quantity of rice; put a little water to 
 it, and set it inthe oven till the water is absorbed. Then 
 put in a little milk, work it well with a spoon, set it in 
 the oven again, and keep working it from time to time 
 till it is sufficiently soft. A little cream worked in at 
 the last is an improvement. Fill a tart dish nearly full 
 of fruit, sweeten it, and lay on the rice unevenly by 
 spoonfuls. Bake it till the rice has a light brown, or 
 fawn colour, on the surface. 
 
 Another receipt also applicable to the season, and, in 
 my opinion, of great merit, is the following :— 
 
 Put a few beets, a little onion, one lettuce, and a 
 cucumber sliced into a stew-pan, with a little water, and 
 a proper quantity of butter, and pepper, and salt. Set 
 the pan in the oven, and when the vegetables have been 
 
 stewed some time, put a quantity of boiled peas and 
 
 'N Pe ee, 
 
278 The Original. 
 
 some meat into the pan, and let the whole stew till the 
 meat is ready to serve up. Lay the vegetables on the 
 dish round the meat. Mutton, lamb, and veal are excel- 
 lent dressed in this manner; and it is a very good way 
 of using up cold meat. 
 
 It is true this dish is by no means suited to make its 
 appearance in state exhibitions, but that, m my mind, is 
 
 no objection. I like the familiar and satisfactory style 
 
 both of cooking and of eating, with the dish actually — 
 
 before me on mensé firmda, the solid table—not a kickshaw 
 poked from behind, and dancing in the air between 
 me and my lady neighbour’s most inconvenient sleeve, 
 without time to think whether I like what is offered, or 
 whether I want it or not. This is all exceedingly polite 
 according to present notions; but I rather prefer some- 
 
 thing of the Miltonic mode, 
 
 Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, 
 
 Are at their savoury dinner set 
 
 Of herbs, and other country messes, 
 Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses ; 
 
 or Dryden’s style, as paraphrased from Horace, 
 
 Sometimes ’tis grateful to the rich to try 
 A short vicissitude, and fit of poverty. 
 A savoury dish, a homely treat, 
 Where all is plain, where all is neat, 
 Without the stately spacious room, 
 The Persian carpet, or the Tyrian loom, 
 Clear up the cloudy foreheads of the great. 
 
 : 
 ‘ 
 
Character the best Security. 279 
 
 It is a pity one never sees luxuries and simplicity go 
 together, and that people cannot understand that wood- 
 cocks and champagne are just as simple as fried bacon 
 and small beer, or a haunch of venison as a leg of 
 mutton ; but with delicacies there is always so much 
 
 alloy as to take away the true relish. 
 
 CHARACTER THE BEST SECURITY. 
 
 “I owe my success in business chiefly to you,” said a 
 stationer to a paper-maker, as they were settling a large 
 account; “but let me ask how a man of your caution 
 came to give credit so freely to a beginner with my 
 slender means.” “Because,” replied the paper-maker, 
 ‘at whatever hour in the morning I passed to my business, 
 I always observed you without your coat at yours.” I 
 knew both parties. Different men will have different 
 degrees of success, and every man must expect to 
 experience ebbs and flows; but I fully believe that no 
 one in this country, of whatever condition, who is really 
 attentive, and, what is of great importance, who lets it 
 appear that he is so, can fail in the long-run. Pretence 
 is ever bad; but there are many who obscure their good 
 qualities by a certain carelessness, or even an affected 
 indifference, which deprives them of the advantages they 
 
 would otherwise infallibly reap, and then they complain 
 
280 The Original. 
 
 of the injustice of the world. The man who con- 
 ceals or disguises his merit, and yet expects to have 
 credit for it, might as well expect to be thought clean 
 in his person if he chose to go covered with filthy rags. 
 The world will not, and cannot in great measure, judge 
 but by appearances, and worth must stamp itself if it 
 
 hopes to pass current even against baser metal. 
 
 A FRENCHMAN’S IDEA OF AN ENGLISH 
 DINNER. 
 
 How difficult it is for those not “to the manner born” 
 
 to acquire accurate ideas of the ways of their fellow 
 men! A French emigrant of some property, who had 
 experienced great hospitality during the late war in a 
 town in the north of England, on the eve of his departure 
 invited his entertainers to a dinner, which, on their 
 arrival, he informed them, with much apparent satisfaction, 
 he had taken care should be in the true English fashion. 
 To verify his words, there was a hare at the top of the 
 table, a hare at the bottom, and a pie containing three 
 brace of partridges in the middle. The second course 
 consisted of a large piece of roast beef and a goose. 
 Out of all rule as was this feast, still it exhibited the 
 principal features, though exaggerated and inverted, of a 
 
 substantial English dinner—a joint and poultry, and a 
 
 os P 
 ia a si es hb ees Peli 
 
wi deed hl si alas Sa Na a a 
 hing rd y , 7 S hee 7 m 
 ’ u e 
 
 a 
 iy 4 
 
 ' / 
 
 eee Few Shillings well laid out. 281 
 
 - course of game. How many descriptions by foreigners, 
 of the habits, customs, and ways of thinking of any 
 ; people, are not more faithful than was this confident 
 attempt at imitation! Nay, often natives. themselves, 
 when treating of what belongs to any class but their own, 
 fall into as great errors. It is only profound observers 
 who are aware of this difficulty of attaining accuracy. 
 2) hose who have seen little, or seen imperfectly, seldom 
 distrust their own knowledge. ‘I remember once in a 
 party of travelled men, where the conversation turned 
 upon the comparative merits of English and continental 
 inns, by far the most decided opinion was given by a 
 young officer whose experience of the Continent proved 
 to have been confined to forty-eight hours’ residence at 
 
 Quillacq’s hotel at Calais. 
 
 A FEW SHILLINGS WELL LAID OUT. 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 At the first appearance of lamps the boy began to count 
 them, and had just given up with the exclamation, “ Well ! 
 if there are not more lamps in this one street than in all 
 our town—” when the coachman called out to him— 
 
 «] say, young one, where are you going to put yourself 
 to-night ? ” | : 
 
 “T shall stop where you stop,” said the boy. 
 
282 ~The Original. 
 
 “But you’ve no money, you know.” 
 
 “ Ay,” said the boy, triumphantly, “but this gentleman 
 will give me some.” , : ) 
 
 ‘So much the better for you,” said the coachman. 
 
 At the inn the gentleman took the boy apart, and, 
 
 putting five shillings into his hand, told him to get a — 
 
 comfortable supper and a good night’s rest, and not to let 
 any one know how much money he had. “In the 
 morning,” continued he, “make yourself as decent as you 
 can, and go to your uncle’s with a shilling or two in your 
 
 pocket. And now, my lad, I hope you will be steady, and 
 
 do well in the world ; and, above all, I recommend you ~ 
 
 never to forget your poor mother.” The boy was less 
 
 profuse in his thanks than might have been expected. 
 
 “What is your business with me, young man?” said Mr. 
 B., as a decently dressed, smart youth of about seventeen 
 was shown into his library. | 
 
 “TI am the boy, sir, you gave five shillings to on the 
 coach, three years since, last November.” 
 
 “What do you say?” said Mr. B.—“Oh! now I recollect 
 the circumstance, though I do not recollect you; but what 
 is your will with me, and how did you contrive to find me 
 Out 2a: 
 
¢ 
 
 A Few Shillings well laid out. 283 
 
 The youth told his story, interrupted by occasional 
 questions from B., in nearly the following words : 
 
 7 ‘¢When you gave me the money, sir, I felt more than I 
 said. Your name I saw on your portmanteau, and [ 
 happened to hear your servant tell the hackney coachman 
 where to drive; so it came into my mind that I would 
 never rest till I had shown you that I was not ungrateful. 
 In a few days I came to look at your house. I owe you 
 more than you think, sir. When I found my uncle, I will 
 say he received me kindly enough ; but he seemed to look 
 upon me much more as soon as he heard how a gentleman 
 like you had been pleased to stand my friend; and I do 
 not think but I should have been a very different character 
 to what I am if I had not had the good fortune to see you. 
 - I should have come long ago, but I hope you will excuse 
 me for saying I did not forget your advice not to neglect 
 my mother. Now, however, she is so comfortably off that 
 . she has sent me word I need trouble myself no further on 
 her account. I hope, sir, you will not take it amiss—” 
 (here he paused and blushed)—‘“ but why I have taken 
 the liberty to come to-day is, my uncle at this time of the 
 year makes a kind of large seasoned pie, which is much 
 thought of by the better sort of people in our neighbour- 
 hood. It will be nothing to a gentleman like you, I know; 
 but if you will only allow me to bring you one—” said the 
 
 youth, in a supplicatory tone. 
 
ee Rg let a 
 
 284 The Original. 
 
 “Well,” said Mr. B., with a smile, “‘as I clearly perceive 
 it is a free offering on your part, I accept it willingly. 3 
 Your gratitude does you great credit. Bring your pie as 
 soon as you please, and let me see you again this day week, 
 that I may tell you how I like it.” 
 
 A day or two after, Mr. B. had a dinner-party, at which 
 something occurred to induce him shortly to relate the boy’s: — 
 story. It drew forth various commendatory remarks, which 
 were put an end to by the fashionable witling of the day 
 expressing an affected curiosity just to see what it was “ the 
 better sort of people” in the Borough liked. He said 
 he had rather a turn for that kind of thing, and had lately 
 been reading some account of the manner of living in 
 Madagascar. In consequence of this sally, it was resolved j 
 to have the pie introduced ; when, contrary to all expecta- 
 tion, and after much grimace, it was ascertained to be a 
 pie of real and original merit, and its history giving it an 
 additional zest, it met with much applause. Mr. B.’s chief 
 guest, a man of great patronage and intrigue, partly to 
 introduce a fling at the witling, whom he hated for a 
 personal jest, and partly to please his host, whose interest 
 he wanted, desired he might have one of the pies sent to 
 his house; whereupon an expectant at the lower end of 
 the table immediately protested his lordship, as usual, 
 
 showed his taste, and begged to follow so high an au- 
 
 thority. A baronet of pretence joined in the request, for 
 
A Few Shillings well laid out. 285 
 
 the sake of a subject to dilate upon at his own table, and 
 for an appropriate opportunity of signifying his acquaint- 
 ance with a grandee of the first class. A wealthy member 
 of the Lower House, who had not spoken a word before, 
 ventured to express a similar wish, simply because he was 
 not willing to let the day pass without saying something. 
 An indefatigable fashion-hunter, judging it a possible case 
 of vogue, resolved not to be left behind; and lastly, an 
 unprincipled wit modestly gave a double order, chuckling 
 at the opportunity of getting a good thing he never meant 
 to pay for. 
 
 The donor of the pie made his appearance at the ap- 
 pointed time, and his anxiety was changed into delight 
 when he found his present had given satisfaction to Mr. B. ; 
 but when he was informed of the whole of his success, he 
 was all but overwhelmed. He hurried back to his uncle 
 with the joyful news, and the worthy man of victuals, who 
 had hitherto been kept in ignorance of his nephew’s pro- 
 ceedings, no sooner recovered from his astonishment than 
 he confidently anticipated countless wealth and never-dying 
 fame from the patronage of his distinguished customers. 
 But, alas! he was unversed in the intricate and slippery 
 ways of the world, and especially of that part of it which 
 lies in the interior of great men’s houses. He naturally 
 concluded his pie had been sought for simply for its merits, 
 
 and that consequently it would make its own way; and 
 
hie a Tye 
 
 PC meyer 
 
 286 The Original. 
 
 he honestly resolved it should continue to deserve ‘its 
 reputation. But his praiseworthy intentions were doomed : 
 to meet with no reward in the quarter he most calcu- q 
 lated upon ; and from the household ministers of the West, q 
 in the plenitude of their power, he experienced nothing but 4 
 mortification and defeat. Every pie-purveyor’s place was q 
 filled up, in possession and reversion, through interest and 
 by means, of which his simple soul never dreamed, and he 
 not only never received a second order, but was unable to 
 obtain payment for half the first. However, after all, the | 
 balance was greatly in his favour ; for the first noise of his 
 success prodigiously increased his custom amongst his 
 plainer dealing neighbours, who considered it would be 
 showing an unpardonable want of taste not to eat his 
 pies even to surfeit. 
 
 But to return to the hero of the story, in whom Mr. B. 
 began to take a permanent interest. Finding from exami- 
 nation that he had attended more to pie-making than to 
 scholarship, he advised him to devote his leisure time to 
 attendance upon some competent master ; “for,” said he, 
 ‘if you get on in the world, which you seem well qualified 
 
 to do, you will find the want of suitable acquirements a 
 
 constant hindrance and mortification. Lose no time in ~ 
 
 beginning, and I will charge myself with the expense.” 
 
 “With such encouragement, it is not to be wondered ‘at 
 
 that the scholar soon came to write a beautiful hand, and 
 
return, made him first his partner, and 
 
 r5 and to his benefactor, who happened to 
 
 25 neglected property in the vicinity of his residence, 
 
 fortunate enough, by his local knowledge and 
 
 _ superintendence, to render the most important 
 
PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 ( Concluded.) 
 
 THE notions of the upper classes as to the nature and 
 importance of parochial government are in general most 
 inadequate and erroneous. They are scarcely extended, as a 
 I have said before, to anything beyond the administration 
 _of the Poor Laws ; and as that has been a very troublesome 4 
 and disagreeable duty, and as the discharge of it was under 
 the control and exposed to the caprice of the magistracy, — 
 
 _ it has been considered that parish offices were only fit to be ; ; 
 filled by persons of unrefined habits and low station. The — 
 consequence has been the gross neglect of the fundamental 
 
 principle of sound government, which is the principle of 
 selfgovernment by small communities. In the mean time, 
 
 the wealthy and. enlightened classes, either from public- ] 
 spirited motives, or sense of duty, or from love of ) 
 distinction, or want of occupation, have diverted their q 
 attention to expedients, which either very inadequately — 
 remedy, or greatly aggravate, the evils arising from the 
 absence of efficient local government. The means of accom- 
 
 plishing a beneficial change consist in a reorganisation 
 
 - 
 
 1 
 ; : 
 
 No, VIL] | WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 1835. Price 3d. 
 
Parochial Government. 289 
 
 adapted to present circumstances, in the concentration 
 of existing powers, and in the creation of new ones. By 
 reorganisation I mean, first, internal division, where 
 division is requisite ; secondly, the creation of new 
 functionaries, more in number than at present; thirdly, a 
 remodelling of the mode of election. By the concentration 
 of existing powers I mean the transference of all powers, 
 vested in separate boards, or commissions, or officers, to 
 the general parochial council. By the creation of new 
 powers, I mean of such increased powers of interference, 
 of taxation, and of making improvements, as might be 
 advantageously entrusted under a system of completely 
 organised popular control. The greater the power vested 
 in parochial government, the more likely it would be to 
 fall into proper hands; because, in the first place, it would 
 enhance the inducements to seek it; and, in the second, it 
 would create an apprehension of abuse, if misplaced, and it 
 would make electors more cautious in their choice. In 
 order to ensure a willingness for office on the part of the 
 well qualified, it would be necessary to remove all control 
 over them, except that of the higher legal tribunals. It 
 would be extremely unfitting to submit men, freely elected 
 by their fellow citizens, to the control of individual 
 magistrates. They ought to be responsible to no tribunal 
 lower than the Court of Quarter Sessions. The instances 
 of abuse could but be very infrequent, and a feeling of 
 
 Von: I. U 
 
290. 
 
 ; independence i 1s absolutely’ necessary to ‘the man 
 
 ‘of public duty. 
 
 According to my view, parishes should be divided 
 five classes. The first class is that in which the popule 1 
 is so small as not to admit of representation, and in. tha 
 case the vestry would be the council, and from itself would 
 
 choose what executive officers were required. Thelsecontl wy 
 
 class is that which would not need division, but which — 
 would be sufficiently populous to elect a council. ‘The ” 
 ‘third class is that where a division into wards is necessary, 
 but where the wards would not be sufficiently numerous for : 
 the heads of them to form a council, and then it would be . 
 requisite that each ward should elect a certain adaner off 
 members besides the heads to constitute a council. The — . 
 fourth class is where the wards are so numerous, that the 
 heads of them would be sufficient to form a council; and 4 
 the fifth class is that in which the heads would be too ~ 
 numerous, in which case they ought to choose amongst — 
 themselves who should be of the council. I have before 4 
 observed that I do not think the population of each ward , 
 should ever be much more than one thousand, and I am 
 of opinion that the council of the largest parishes should — 
 
 ri 
 w 
 
 ri , 
 
 not exceed fifty. 
 For the purpose of illustration, I will again suppose a . 
 parish of thirty thousand inhabitants, divided into thirty 4 
 
 wards, each ward having its head, his deputy, and ten of 
 
4 a 
 yi 
 
 | Parochial 5 ot aa 
 
 e7 
 
 : by residents of six months’ standing, paying for their own 
 
 _ Bee, and by ratepayers for the same aoe It 
 
 Pe oictinst personal inspection, to see to the good paling 
 
 of the ward, both as to its peace and its local arrange- 
 
 ie ments. It should also be in the power of the head to 
 
 call the inhabitants together, if he or they wished it, to 
 
 consult on any particular point. The business of the 
 
 _ projected measures, together with accounts of their expen- © 
 
 council should be to elect a president and his deputy, 
 with a clerk, and what other paid officers might be 
 tli | and to choose from themselves the executive 
 officers. - The council should form an estimate of the 
 expenses for the year, consolidating the rates into one 
 for the purposes of collection, but distinguishing them as 
 to their intended application. They should publish, as 
 often as convenient, for circulation through the heads of 
 
 the wards, statements of their estimates, and of their 
 
 diture, so that the public might always know what was 
 going on, and either object in time, or cheerfully agree. 
 Under such circumstances there would be no danger 
 in granting considerably increased powers of taxation, 
 improvement, and superintendence. It should also be 
 the duty of the council to inspect the parish from time 
 
 to time, because such inspection would not only be 
 U2 
 
292 The Origenal. 
 
 preventive of evil, but, where it existed, would be the 
 most efficacious mode of making it disappear. If the 
 chief men of any large parish were to associate together 
 for the purposes of government under such an organised 
 system, there would, beyond all doubt, socn be a very 
 great change for the better, and many of those drawbacks 
 to the well-being of society, which, when seen at a distance, 
 are supposed to be remediless, would dwindle into insig- 
 nificance. At present there is an unapproached mass ot 
 evi! which it is sinful and unchristian, as well as most 
 impolitic, to leave unattended to. A field is open for the 
 most interesting and beneficial exercise of the moral 
 faculties, and till it is entered it is in vain to ‘think of 
 anything really sound in any part of the State. The 
 very foundation is rotten. 
 
 I have asserted in my third number, that the only 
 plan by which properly qualified persons—that is, “the 
 most successful in the honourable conduct of their own 
 affairs”—could be induced to give up time sufficient to 
 superintend the affairs of their respective communities, 
 would be by making government ‘‘a social and convivial 
 aftair—a point of interesting union to the men most 
 deserving the confidence of their fellow citizens.” It is 
 not very difficult, often very easy, to induce such men as 
 above described to come forward in emergencies ; but 
 
 when some particular grievance is redressed, or improve- 
 
Parochial Government. 293 
 
 ment carried into effect, they return again to their own 
 affairs, leaving those of the public to the ordinary, 
 incompetent, or self-interested superintendence; and a 
 retrograde movement, or at least no further advance, is 
 the consequence. Cheap government is the favourite 
 doctrine of the day; but it is only sound when it means 
 the best government on the lowest terms. In any other 
 sense it is a delusion; for however small the direct 
 expenses of inadequate government may be, the collateral 
 ones will be much greater in proportion. For instance, 
 the services of an incompetent judge might be purchased 
 for a much less remuneration than those of a competent 
 one; but what would be the cost of his incompetency? 
 I have known in a single assize town the expense of 
 unnecessary delay cost individuals, besides other incon- 
 veniences, more than half the judge’s salary. So in 
 parishes, misgovernment and want of government are 
 much more expensive to the community than good govern- 
 ment would be, though apparently they cost less. Our 
 ancestors understood principles something better, and 
 were wont to pay for public services, as in the case of 
 justices of the peace and members of Parliament; and 
 when the practice fell into disuse, justices and members 
 took to paying themselves at a much more extravagant rate. 
 That grievance has been on the decline, but it is now 
 
 getting into fashion to do away with citizen government, 
 
De Orewa 
 
 294 
 
 and to substitute that of mere hirelings in its place. 
 The true system is that of the best citizens governing — 
 the rest on the social and convivial plan. In every 
 community the style of government ought to have rela- 
 tion to the style of the upper part of the community, 
 otherwise it will inevitably fali into low hands. Those g 
 who serve the public must be treated in the style to 
 which they are accustomed. It is perfectly useless to 
 attempt permanently to command men’s services for 
 nothing, or even for less than they are worth, The aim 
 should be to procure the best services on the cheapest 
 terms, and in the most efficient way; and there is no 
 system so cheap or so efficient as that of the table. The a 
 Athenians in their most glorious days rewarded those 
 citizens who had deserved well of the State by main- 
 taining them at the public expense in the Prytaneum, or 
 council-hall. The table also is a mode of payment for , 
 services to be performed which goes further than any | 
 other, and will command greater punctuality, greater — 
 attention, and greater alacrity. When properly regulated, 
 
 it is the bond of union and harmony, the school for 
 improvement of manners and civilisation, the place where : 
 information is elicited and corrected better than anywhere 2 
 else, as I know from repeated experience; and by the 4 
 mixture of men of different occupations, and, to some 
 
 extent, of different classes, over the social board after the 
 
’ 
 
 discharge of their public duties, the best results are pro- 
 duced both on the head and the heart. It is by this 
 
 _ process only that the higher classes can come at any 
 
 accurate knowledge of what relates to those below them, 
 
 or the lower classes form a proper estimate of their 
 
 superiors. It is only in these moments of freedom and 
 
 relaxation, when suspicion, and jealousy, and fear are 
 
 banished, that the truth comes out, or can come out. 
 
 There is no intercourse which is so interesting or profitable 
 as that which arises from a mixture of business and 
 pleasure. Pleasure alone is sauce without meat, and soon 
 palls ; business alone is meat without sauce, and is equally 
 dry; but the two together have the true relish. For 
 want of division into communities, from parish commu- 
 nities upwards, and for want of self-government, society is 
 
 vague, heartless, and dull. People meet by classes, without 
 
 ‘an object, without interest, and without any distinct limit 
 
 as to numbers ; in consequence of which the chief feature 
 of society of the present day is a mob-like sameness. 
 By means of self-governed communities, the boundaries 
 of society would be more defined and significant, the 
 objects of intercourse more interesting and profitable, 
 and the relations between man and man more various 
 and sympathetic. A great part of the profitless, or even 
 pernicious, pursuits into which people plunge are merely 
 
 substitutes for the occupations of such a system as I 
 
296 The Original. 
 
 advocate —a system which cannot exist except socially — 
 and convivially. Local governments efficiently organised 
 would soon produce such an improvement as comparatively 
 to leave little to do, except to keep the machinery in 
 order; and therefore, unless inducements were held out 
 to keep up a constant watchfulness and general superin- 
 tendence, neglect first of all, and then abuse, would 
 creep in. As I have above remarked, the style of 
 
 government ought to have relation to the style of the 
 upper part of the community, otherwise it will inevitably 
 fall into inferior hands; and therefore such a parish as 
 St. George’s, Hanover Square, which contains 58,o00 in- 
 habitants, and is, doubtless, for its population, the richest 
 community in the world, ought to have a rich govern- 
 ment establishment, if the affairs of government are 
 expected to be permanently attended to by the chief 
 people. 
 
 It is far from desirable that the government of any 
 community should be exclusively in the hands of the rich- 
 est: on the contrary, the greater mixture of classes there 
 is the better, provided the selection is made on account of 
 talent and character; but, in order to hold out sufficient 
 inducement to the highest, and to raise the tone of those 
 below to a height corresponding with their duties, it is 
 necessary to adopt the standard of the chief men, or nearly 
 
 so. St. George’s, [ should say, ought to have a splendid 
 
- os 2) aac a ae a SR ca [ie 22 howl 
 
 paleba J 
 wa 
 
 Parochial Government. 297 
 
 common hall and appendages, combining the plan of the 
 City companies’ halls, and the West End clubs, for the pur- 
 poses of business, entertainment, and daily resort ; and 
 such an establishment would offer the best encouragement 
 to architecture, sculpture, and painting. It ought to be 
 
 built and maintained out of the rates, and it would soon 
 
 ( 
 
 ; 
 & 
 J 
 g 
 
 pay for itself by its effects. Here those placed in authority 
 should be entertained at convenient periods and on set 
 occasions, at the public expense, not extravagantly and 
 excessively, but in reaned moderation, and with simple 
 refreshments, whenever thought conducive to the despatch 
 of business, particularly with suppers, to induce occasional * 
 inspections of the parish at uncertain hours of the night— 
 a regulation I know to be of the greatest efficacy. On this 
 subject, I have observed, in a little essay republished in my 
 third number, “It would be very desirable, I think, that 
 every parish, where the means would allow, should possess 
 a place of meeting for the convenience of the governors, 
 and under their control, and that the rest of the ratepayers, 
 or inhabitants, should be admitted by ballot, and on pay- 
 ment of a certain subscription to form a sort of club. A 
 point of union amongst different classes, having a common 
 interest, must be advantageous to all, especially in the 
 communication of information and the promotion of mutual 
 goodwill ; and such institutions would be excellent objects 
 
 for the munificence of public-spirited individuals, either by 
 
298 — The Original. 
 
 donation or legacy.” Establishments of this kind, I should 
 hope, might also be made subservient to female interests, 
 though, where different classes are concerned, that is a 
 matter of some difficulty, though, perhaps, not of an in- 
 superable nature. Exclusiveness, so much talked against, 
 and often so unreasonably, is really a necessary precaution 
 -in the present undefined boundaries of overgrown society ; 
 but, in a better organised state, different and more sympa- 
 thetic feelings might grow up. The first year the present 
 magnificent building of the Athenzeum Club was opened, — 
 when ladies were admitted every Wednesday night during 
 *the season, it was certainly a very convenient, cheap, and 
 easy mode of assembling, and might, it appears to me, be 
 permanently adopted and improved upon under other cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 With the political inducements I have mentioned, to the 
 leading men of different communities to take upon them- 
 selves the charge of government, together with the at- 
 tractions of such establishments as I propose, I should 
 not apprehend any deficiency of public spirit; whilst the 
 popular and organised mode of election would effectually 
 prevent abuse, as far as human means can prevent it. I 
 will only add on this part of my subject, that the higher 
 the tone and style of government, the more unlikely 
 improper persons would be to seek to intrude into it, 
 
 because in any refined element such persons cannot 
 
é 
 
 __ exist. From St. George’s, the richest, I will turn to the 
 | q Hamlet of Mile End New Town in the parish of Stepney, 
 ay believe the poorest community in the metropolis ; and 
 the same reasoning, I think, applies in both cases, refer: 
 ence being had to the respective degrees of wealth; and 
 so with respect to every parish in the land. The regula- 
 q _ tions in country parishes must often vary considerably 
 from those in parishes and towns; but division, the super: 
 intendence of the best men, and the bringing together 
 the inhabitants, socially and convivially, is at least as 
 necessary as in towns, if not more so. The advantages to 
 the country, and to country gentlemen, if the latter could 
 once be brought to turn their attention and their energies 
 to local government instead of their present pursuits, would 
 | ; be incalculable. The improvement in property, and in 
 the morals and intelligence of all classes, would be 
 general and rapid. I have at different periods of my life 
 examined minutely into the practicability of such im- 
 provement, and I see few difficulties, if once set about. 
 Rivalry and example in local government would cause a 
 wide spread of knowledge of the art, at present lamentably 
 neglected, or unknown, though the most interesting that 
 can occupy a rational and benevolent being’s thoughts. 
 
 In order to give it the more interest, it is desirable 
 
 OE ee ee ea ee ee ee See Se ee i 
 
 to concentrate the power and expense of government 
 
 as much as possible in each separate community, and 
 
 tee ae ee a 
 
 Parochial Government. 2909 
 
 By 
 ; 
 
300 The Original. | 
 
 to leave the citizens to manage their own concerns, 
 uncontrolled except by laws enforced by the higher 
 tribunals. 
 
 I do not know that I have anything further to add 
 on the subject of parochial government. What I have 
 written is somewhat desultory, and. interspersed with 
 repetitions ; but my wish is to impress my doctrines upon 
 the minds of my readers as familiarly as possible. My 
 suggestions are much scattered, and, in order fully to 
 comprehend my views, it will be necessary to read the 
 article on the principles of government in my first number ; 
 the life of Numa, with the prefixed remarks, and the 
 article on government, in my second; on _ parochial 
 government in my third; on the same subject, and on 
 the observance of the Sabbath, in my fourth ; on parochial 
 government continued, and on parochial improvement, in 
 
 my fifth ; and on parochial government in my sixth. 
 
 DIALOGUE ON PAUPERISM. 
 
 [The following Dialogue between a Select Vestryman 
 and a Labourer was composed from conversations 
 held with labourers at different times, and was first 
 published, in 1826, in my pamphlet on Pauperism. 
 It may be of use in throwing a little light on the 
 
 unlearned in such matters. | 
 
ae. = : i Dialogue on Pauperism. “ROE 
 Could I say a fed to you, Sir, concerning this old man? 
 7 Oh! ! certainly ; 3 what does he want ? 
 “He wants you to speak for him in the vestry. He is 
 “more than threescore and ten. He -has been a good 
 / workman in his time, but you see he is almost done: 
 you won't say but the parish ought to do something for 
 such as him, for he has not a penny nor a penny’s worth. 
 S ia. The parish ought to do! He ought to have done for 
 himself. Above fifty years’ labour, a good workman, and — 
 not saved one penny ! I dare say, if he had all the 
 4 money he has spent in getting drunk, and all‘the wages 
 4 of the idle days he had made, he would not need to 
 trouble the parish. 
 Bless you, sir! he never had it in his power to drink 
 ; much. He has brought up a large family, as many as 
 ten children. He loved a little drink, too, when he 
 j ‘could catch it; he is but like other folks in that. 
 | The more’s the pity; but so it is, if your neighbours 
 q do wrong, that is an excuse for you all: because others 
 drink their wages, and come upon the parish, you think 
 you will do the same, that they may have no advantage 
 _ over you. I suppose what you call bringing up these 
 ten children was keeping them in filth and rags, and, 
 instead of sending them to ‘school, going himself to the 
 
 _ale-house. Where were they generally to be found p— 
 
 . tumbling about in the lanes, without shoes and stockings ? 
 
302 
 
 There was no great care taken of them, I believe: 
 
 So there is not one now able to do anything towards 
 helping the old man. What is become of them all? But, 
 perhaps, the less that is said about them the better. 
 
 Why, they didn’t turn out so well as they might have 
 done, any of them. . 
 
 I dare say they turned out quite as well as could be 
 expected. Now, if he had laid out his spare money in 
 bringing up his family carefully, do you suppose there 
 would not have been one out of his ten children, or his’ 
 ten childrén’s children, able to assist him in return ? 
 
 It’s much if there would not. | 
 
 Well! at any rate he might have taught them to be 
 honest, and ‘industrious, and clean, and civil spoken; all 
 that costs nothing, you know, but a little trouble, and 
 setting a good example. He would then have had no 
 difficulty in finding them good places; and when they 
 had got a little money themselves, they could have gone 
 to a night-school, or something of that sort, and it would 
 be strange if some of them had not got forward in the 
 world. Respectable people like to take those they employ 
 out of a well-reputed family ; and, when they have taken 
 them, to stand their friends; and one good one in a 
 family helps on another. | 
 
 Well! I never thought of all that before. 
 
 Many a lucky thing will fall out that you never thought — 
 
‘ hs ay ; ; 
 | _ Dialogue on n Panperivm. 
 
 If a labouring man has 
 
 a worse than nothing. 
 
 | sie them up well ; pe ie can sooner get them out for 
 | ayy and in return they are sure to be able to repay him 
 : ‘some time, some of them, instead of. coming to him again, 
 4 a perhaps this old man’s have done. 
 
 Ay, they’ve troubled ae sadly i in that way. 
 
 Well, then, it is good both ways, you see: not that I 
 i - approve of parents depending upon their children in their 
 old age, except where they have had more than common 
 - difficulties to strive against, or where they have done 
 
 a _ more for their children than in their situation could have 
 4 _ been expected of them. In other cases, they ought to 
 j lay by for themselves, and leave their children free. 
 
 a - But there are not many that can do as you say. 
 
 : What is to prevent them, unless it be poaching, rat- 
 hunting, bear-baiting, frequenting the ale-house, and the 
 
 like? In the mean time their children run wild, half- 
 
 4 clothed, half-starved, stealing anything they can lay hold 
 
 Z of. If you were a master, would you employ such? 
 
 q I don’t think I should be very fond of them. . 
 4 The consequence is, therefore, they can only get odd 
 
 q jobs now and then, when there is more work than hands ; 
 
 s and they get idle, drunken, dishonest habits, which soon 
 
304 The Original. 
 
 leave them only two chances—a gaol or the workhouse. 
 Instead of thinking of raising themselves, they think how 
 little work they can do, how much drink they can get, 
 how much they can pillage, or, what is very little better, 
 how they can impose on the parish ; for all that the idle 
 get, must come out of somebody’s industry or property. 
 Now, what do you say ? 
 
 Why, I believe, sir, you have given nearly a true 
 account: but as for this old fellow, you must recollect 
 that the times have been very bad. 
 
 I know that; but do you mean to say that he laid 
 by money when the times were good, and that you apply 
 to the parish for him, because he has spent all his savings 
 in keeping himself since times have been so bad ? 
 
 Nay, I can’t say I think he ever saved much. 
 
 Then what better would he be now, however good 
 the times had been? Would he be a penny richer ? 
 With most of you (I don’t say all) the only difference 
 between good and bad times is, that when they are good 
 you drink more and work less, and when they are very 
 good there are many who choose to work and starve 
 one week, in order to drink and be idle the next, and 
 that is all the good they get. You know, they say they 
 belong to a good parish; they don’t care for spending 
 the last penny ; they are sure to be provided for ; there’s 
 
 property enough. They shall be provided for, they may 
 
—S 
 
 Dialogue on Pauperism. == —- 305 
 
 _ depend upon it; they shall be provided with hard work 
 and coarse food. The money that is taken from the 
 industrious to keep the idle shall no longer be taken 
 
 in this parish. As for this foolish old man, he is past 
 
 mending ; so we must see what little work he can do, 
 and allow him some trifle in addition. When any one 
 of you once think of living by any othe: means than 
 your own honest labour, from that moment, you may 
 depend upon it, you doom yourselves to lives of poverty 
 
 and wretchedness. So, good-by to you, and take care 
 
 of yourself. 
 
 Well, sir! I have never troubled the parish for a farthing. 
 It would have been a disgrace if you had; but have 
 
 you never thought about it? How often have you and 
 
 your wife talked it over when any of your neighbours 
 
 got relief? How often have they tried to persuade you 
 to apply, and told you you were fools for slaving? If 
 you had not been ashamed to show those active limbs 
 of yours, should we never have seen you at the vestry? 
 Come, be honest, and tell the truth. Well! I won't 
 press you; your silence is an answer. I'll tell you what 
 —the parish is the ruin of nearly all of you; and they 
 are your worst enemies that countenance you in having 
 anything to do with it. Again, let me advise you to 
 
 depend only upon yourself. 
 VoL. I. x 
 
 FP aalh ® © eet see eee Bo 
 j * in { cee 
 ‘ y 
 
200" The Original. 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 Of Diet—Health depends on diet, exercise, sleep, the — 
 
 state of the mind, and the state of the atmosphere, and 
 on nothing else that I am aware of I have been 
 accustomed for many years to take the air before I eat, 
 or even drink a drop of liquid, and at whatever time I 
 
 rise, or whatever the weather is. Sometimes I am only 
 
 out for a few minutes; but even a few draughts of the 
 
 open air, when taken regularly as part of a system, 
 produce a tonic effect; and I attribute my constant health 
 more to this practice than.to any other individual thing. 
 Sometimes I walk or ride a considerable distance, or 
 transact business for some hours; and twice I have ridden 
 thirty miles, and sat magisterially for a couple of hours, 
 before breaking my fast, or feeling the slightest inconve- 
 nience. This strength arises from habit, and I observe 
 my rule so religiously, that I should have the greatest 
 repugnance to break it, from a thorough conviction of its 
 efficacy. To those who are not in a situation, or have 
 not the resolution, to adopt my practice, I recommend 
 as near an approach to it as possible. JI recommend 
 them, before taking anything either solid or liquid, to 
 perform their ablutions, and ‘to dress completely, and to 
 
 breathe for a time the freshest air they can find, either 
 
af, ’ i re "os . 
 rere tae 4 
 
 s The A rt of attaining Ligh HPAES + 307 
 
 0 a a 
 ‘cz a a 
 
 Pot 
 
 oors or out. I also recommend them to engage 
 ake ls a 
 
 emselves | in some little employment agreeable to the 
 
 mind, so as not to breakfast till at least an hour and a 
 : half ‘or two hours after rising. This enables the stomach 
 : . disburden itself and prepare for a fresh supply, and 
 | “gives it a vigorous tone. I am aware that those who 
 : "have weak digestions, elther constitutionally or from bad 
 _ habits, would suffer great inconvenience from following 
 omy rules all at once. I remember the faintness and 
 4 painful cravings I used to feel after rising, and like others 
 
 i I mistook weakness for appetite; but appetite is a very 
 
 ee 
 
 different thing —a pleasurable sensation of keenness. 
 _ Appetite supplied with food produces digestion—not so 
 faintness or craving. The best means—and I always 
 found it effectual—of removing the latter sensations is 
 to take a little spirit of lavender dropped upon a lump 
 of sugar. After that a wholesome appetite may be waited 
 for without inconvenience, and by degrees a healthy habit 
 will be formed. It is to be observed that nothing produces 
 Piainigiess or craving of the stomach in the morning more 
 surely than overloading it overnight, or any unpleasant 
 affection of the mind, which stops digestion; and _ this 
 shows the impropriety of adding more food as a palliative. 
 ‘ With respect to the proper food for breakfast, that must 
 ; ’ depend much upon constitution and way of life, and, 
 
 like most other matters pertaining to health, can best be 
 
 £ X 2 
 
308 The Original. 
 
 learnt by diligent observation. I think, as a general 
 rule, abstinence from meat is advisable, reserving that 
 species of food till the middle of the day, when the 
 appetite of a healthy person is the strongest. But at 
 breakfast, as at all meals, it is expedient to select what 
 is agreeable to the palate; being then, as always, specially 
 careful not to let that circumstance lead to excess, even 
 in the slightest degree, but, on the contrary, to observe 
 the often laid down rule of leaving off with an appetite. 
 Some people swallow their food in lumps, washing it 
 down with large and frequent gulps of liquid—an affront 
 to the stomach, which it is sure to resent with all the evils 
 of indigestion, as it is impossible for the gastric juice to 
 act, especially if the body is under the influence of motion. 
 Even the motion of the easiest carriage on the smoothest 
 road in such case tends to produce fermentation and 
 fever, and drinking more, the usual remedy with the 
 ignorant, aggravates the inconvenience; the only plan is 
 to wait till the stomach is drained, and digestion can 
 commence. Mastication is good in two ways: first, to 
 break the food into small pieces, upon which the gastric 
 juice can sooner act; and secondly, to mix it well with 
 saliva, which is the great facilitator of digestion. This 
 subject of saliva is of great importance. When the salival 
 glands are dry, it is impossible digestion can go on well. 
 
 They are much affected by the mind; and joy and grief 
 
Pe 
 eed 
 he 
 
 "The Art of attaining High Health. 309 
 
 ; 4 ¥ v a 
 = = fi 
 a a = 
 (ts ay» ‘ai oe 
 
 will produce an instantaneous change, and _ whatever 
 -partakes of joy or grief acts in a corresponding degree. 
 it is for this reason that I have remarked, in a former 
 _ number, that it is expedient at meals to avoid all 
 _ unpleasant or even serious topics. Light, agreeable 
 4 conversation, with moderate mirth and laughter, promote 
 a digestion, and principally, I believe, by stimulating the 
 4 ‘salival glands. Hence the wholesomeness of food that 
 - ig fancied to such a degree as to make the mouth water. 
 Hence the benefit of talking invalids into an appetite ; 
 and frequently the first symptoms of recovery, after a 
 dangerous or even hopeless illness, manifest themselves 
 by desiring some particular food grateful to the palate ; 
 so persons, who have been given up and left to eat what 
 they chose, have recovered from that very circumstance, 
 when medicine and prescribed diet have failed. All this 
 is from stimulus to the salival glands; and from it I 
 ’ infer the expediency of allowing invalids, except in things 
 manifestly detrimental, to follow their fancy, and, for the 
 same reason, it is desirable to make their meals as 
 cheerful as possible, by the presence of some one 
 
 agreeable to them, or by any other means. 
 
No. VIII] WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 [I am induced to give the following article on account of 
 its appropriateness to the time; and notwithstanding its 
 forbidding title and its length, I beg to recommend it to 
 
 the perusal of my readers, both male and female. ] 
 
 POOR LAWS IN IRELAND. 
 
 I met the other day with the following passage from 
 Inglis’s book on Ireland. Speaking of Limerick, he says, 
 “Some of the abodes I visited were garrets, some cellars, . 
 some were hovels on the ground-floor, situate in narrow 
 yards or alleys. I will not speak of the filth of the places ; 
 that could not be exceeded in places meant to be its 
 receptacles. Let the worst be imagined, and it will not 
 be beyond the truth. In at least three-fourths of the hovels 
 which I entered, there was no furniture of any description, 
 save an iron pot; no table, no chair, no bench, no bed- 
 stead; two, three, or four little bundles of straw, with 
 perhaps one or two scanty and ragged mats, were rolled 
 up in the corners, unless where these beds were found 
 occupied.” After describing the corresponding appearance 
 
 of the inmates, he adds, ‘I allude to the disputed question, 
 
ere 
 
 er there be, or be not, a necessity for some legal 
 
 ovision for the poor; and I confess, that with such 
 
 _ the necessity to which I allude.” Then he concludes, 
 oe Justice demands that in the ratio of their abundance 
 men should be forced to contribute.” The inference from pa 
 : . the above passage is, that this state of things is attributable 
 .: to the want of Poor Laws. Now the same scenes may be 
 4 witnessed in the heart | ‘of this wealthy metropolis, where 
 _ Poor Laws are in full es and where the complaint has 
 been, that they were administered with too lavish a hand. 
 Jt is not the want of Poor Laws, but improvident and de- 
 based habits from other causes, that produce this misery, 
 real to a great extent, but apparent to a far greater. In 
 q _ the year 1829, when I became a police magistrate, I was 
 in the habit of visiting, both by day and night, the habita- 
 tions of the lowest classes, of which a great portion are 
 
 Irish, in the courts and alleys branching from Rosemary 
 
 Lane, and from the High Street, Whitechapel, towards Spital- 
 : fields. I also renewed my visits when the cholera first ap- 
 
 peared. In respect to filth and want of furniture, I have 
 4 ; frequently witnessed scenes quite equalled by those de- 
 4 scribed by Mr. Inglis; in respect to inmates, I never saw 
 misery to such an apparent extent, but certainly to greater, 
 
 reference being had to the general state of the two countries. 
 
B12 Lhe Original. 
 
 I will mention particular instances. I remember going one 
 Sunday morning with the parochial authorities of White- 
 chapel, amongst other places of a like description, to a house 
 in Rosemary Lane, now pulled down, which was inhabited 
 at free cost by several families, there being no legal claimant. 
 It had an ornamented front, and had formerly been of some 
 consideration. The ground-floor was in too dilapidated a 
 state to be occupied at all. We were obliged to borrow a } 
 candle at ten o’clock in the morning, to enable us to ascend 
 with safety the ruined staircase. The first room we saw 
 was the common receptacle of the filth of the house, and, 
 as Mr. Inglis says, ‘let the worst be imagined, and it will 
 not be beyond the truth.” Through an anterior window 
 we saw two nearly naked children standing in a wretched 
 room, the door of which was locked. With some difficulty 
 we gained admission. In one corner a woman was lying 
 on dirty straw, covered only with a ragged sack. In 
 another was a basket of sprats, with some skate heaped 
 on the floor by it. There were a few broken pieces of 
 crockery on the mantel-piece, and a fagot of wood was 
 reared up in the fire-place; other articles there were none 
 in the room. The woman hawked fish, and probably 
 earned some shillings a day ; but, ike most of her tribe, 
 preferred mere sensual enjoyment to comfort, and was no 
 doubt, from what we observed, sleeping off the effects of - 
 
 supper and gin. In another room were two young men 
 
~ Te Caer 
 
 - ‘street near, called Cartwright Street, is a eae 
 property, which is occupied, or was, without ceremony. 
 In one house alone, when cholera was prevalent in that 
 quarter, there were forty inhabitants, several of whom fell 
 victims to the disease. There were at that time great 
 “complaints against the keeping of pigs, at the number of 
 4 which I was much surprised. Some were even found 
 living upstairs, and from them and those below in the 
 _most confined places the nuisance was excessive. Filth 
 and mud were accumulated in all directions, some abate- ; 
 - ment of which has been effected by the alarm from cholera. 
 In short, the generality of the world has very little idea of 
 the state of the lowest parts of it, even in its immediate 
 & _ vicinity, as I had proof in the ignorance of the respect- 
 _ able inhabitants of Whitechapel of what was existing around 
 q them; and this is one of the strongest arguments in ny 
 ~ mind in favour of organised and vigilant parish government, 
 _ because such evils as I have described have only to be 
 _ brought frequently before men’s eyes to be made to dis- 
 appear. In one of my visitations I went into a house in 
 q a filthy court at two o’clock in the morning, and found an 
 4 Irishman very drunk, sitting with his wife and children on 
 4 tubs and mugs, and without any tables or chairs, round a 
 
 7 fire, on which they were frying beef-steaks and onions, 
 
314 The Original. 
 
 which sent forth a most savoury odour. This was another 
 instance of the love of enjoyment at the expense of com- 
 fort, and any person visiting the family in the day-time 
 would have had no doubt of their being in a state of | 
 destitution,—an error into which medical men and benevo- 
 lent ladies are very apt to fall, from not having opportunities 
 of distinguishing between the real and the apparent, and 
 from attributing the temporary effects they witness to una- 
 voidable poverty, instead of to systematic improvidence. 
 The consequence is, that though the course they pursue 
 administers present alleviation, it tends to permanent ag- 
 gravation. In further illustration of the difference between 
 real and apparent destitution, I will mention the following 
 fact. An owner of small houses in the parish of Lime- 
 house about a year ago sought before me to be excused 
 from paying his rates, on the ground that he could get no 
 rent from his tenants. I told him I had little doubt but 
 that they spent in gin what they ought to pay him. He 
 said he had no doubt of it too; and being asked why 
 he did not distrain, he replied, there was no furniture in 
 any of his tenements to distrain upon, but that the 
 people, having gotten possession, spent their earnings in 
 _ eating and drinking, and other indulgences, and set him 
 at defiance. This is a numerous class in London, and a 
 class which meets with great support from unthinking and 
 
 mistaken benevolence. Indeed, it may be taken as a rule, 
 
| = -Amprovidence. All barefooted, shirtless beggars 
 re -vagabonds of the first class. ‘Perhaps an alteration in 
 Z ‘th law, by giving a sort of summary process of ejectment 
 by magistrates in such cases as those in Limehouse, might 
 “operate as a salutary check to a practice detrimental to 
 ; roperty, but still more so to morals. 
 ' It is to be observed mee where there is property without 
 a "any recognised owner, or where the proprietors of small 
 ~ houses, from having other means, or from being wearied 
 out, or from indolent benevolence, become negligent, im- 
 _ providence, debasement, and apparent difficulty of living 
 start into life like weeds and vermin amongst ruins, to the 
 ‘7 injury of all around. The want of cultivation and strict 
 : : government will generate, even in the midst of wealth, 
 3 poverty and all its appendages. If any street in London 
 were to be abandoned by its owners, it would soon pro- 
 4 7 duce appearances and realities such as are described by 
 Mr. Inglis, in spite of any system of Poor Laws that could 
 be devised ; whilst, on the other hand, with attention and 
 efficient government, Poor Laws would ere long become a 
 dead letter. Of this I am confident; and I apprehend 
 there is no country in which legal provision is in reality 
 
 less requisite than in Ireland. Notwithstanding the many 
 
 disadvantages it at present labours under, it is, by the 
 
 £ 4 4 
 Y Abe ete 
 
Bue | The Original. 
 
 accounts of all who have no end to answer by perverting — 
 
 wee 
 S 
 
 the truth, in a state of rapid improvement, and only requires - : 
 
 capabilities, sufficient for the employment of whatever ‘suis 
 plus labour there may be. Nothing could be more wither- 
 ing to the brightening prospects of that hitherto ill-fated x 
 country than the establishment of Mr. Inglis’s false prin- a 
 ciple of forcing men to contribute, in the ratio of their 4 
 abundance, to a mere palliative to present evils, at the a 
 expense of future independence. What Irish labourers can 
 
 be, when thrown with sufficient stimulus upon their own oi 
 
 ee cele Soin a il me 
 
 resources, is manifested in the enterprise of the harvesters — 
 in seeking employment here, in their frugality of living, = 
 and in their care of their earnings. What they are under 
 the influence of Poor Laws, I can speak from six years’ 
 constant and ample experience; and I will add an extract i. 
 in point from the preface to the second edition of my a 
 pamphlet on Pauperism, published in 1831, and fully - 
 confirmed by subsequent observation. . 3 
 
 “J will here observe of the Irish paupers that they a 
 are much more accomplished in their vocation than the q 
 English. They are more plausible and persevering, more 
 cunning and deceitful, more skilled in turning the law to 3 
 their advantage, and more ready to suffer privation for j 
 the sake of indulgence. This consideration, coupled with — 
 
 the inexperience of the administrators, makes me think 
 
Poor Laws in [reland. B17 
 
 that Poor Laws, however modified, would soon lead in 
 Ireland even to greater evils than they have ever produced 
 in this country. I should apprehend, too, but this I 
 advance with diffidence, that where the Catholic religion 
 prevails there would probably be an increased tendency 
 to relax the administration, and most of all where there 
 is a Catholic population under Protestant proprietors. 
 The veal point to be aimed at for the improvement of 
 Ireland, or indeed of any country, is the raising the 
 moral standard. Now, in my opinion, Poor Laws, by their 
 very nature, have a directly contrary effect. I think I 
 cannot illustrate this better than by the following anecdote, 
 which I once heard from a gentleman connected with 
 Guy’s Hospital. The founder left to the trustees a fund 
 to be distributed to such of his relatives as should from 
 time to time fall into distress. The fund at length 
 became insufficient to meet the applications, and the 
 trustees, thinking it hard to refuse any claimants, trenched 
 upon the funds of the Hospital, the consequence of which 
 was, as my informant stated, that, as long as the practice 
 lasted, no Guy was ever known to prosper. So that if 
 any individual could be wicked enough to wish the ruin 
 of his posterity for ever, his surest means would be to 
 leave his property in trust to be distributed to them only 
 when in distress. Just so it has been with the legal 
 
 provision for the poor in England. With slight variations, 
 
The Original. | Ey des 5 
 
 ¢ 
 aT 
 
 the fund required has, from its institution, been : con- _ 
 
 hit Ne 
 
 tinually increasing, and the progress of moral improvement 
 
 has, in consequence, been greatly retarded. 
 
 “J will further remark with respect to Ireland, that _ 
 I think periodical assessments, levied something in the 4 
 
 same manner as the poor’s rates here, and judiciously and 
 
 impartially employed in public improvements, would be 
 
 productive of unmixed advantage to the country. But a 
 if such a fund were suffered to be applied in any degree mM 
 upon the specious principle of relieving the necessitous, ; 
 instead of the sound one of purchasing labour in open 
 
 market, I have no doubt but that it would ultimately © 4 
 
 yz. 
 
 be productive of far more evil than good.” 
 
 I will conclude this article with another extract from 
 
 p. 22 of the same pamphlet, descriptive of the baneful 
 
 effect of pauperism, or a dependence on legal provision, 
 
 on the human mind, as a warning against its farther 
 
 extension. 
 
 “The extent to which deceit and self-debasement enter 
 
 into the composition of pauperism is quite inconceivable, 
 
 except to those who have, as it were, anatomised the 
 
 subject. The whole life of a pauper is a lie—his whole 
 study imposition ; he lives by appearing not to be able to 
 
 live; he will throw himself out of work, aggravate disease, 
 
 get into debt, live in wretchedness, persevere in the most a . 
 
 irksome applications, nay, bring upon himself the incum- 
 
 ee 
 ae ae 
 - rest i 
 
 5 a 
 
 ahs 
 
 : 
 mat). 
 i 
 st ‘F 
 
 . 5 
 
i ae 
 on eS op oe 
 per nagits! AT By aN bot ca 
 Bee |e iy) at a ae : fa 
 
 % hy 
 
 ; \ 
 AU : 
 
 are from the parish. It is his constant aim to make 
 everything he has as of little value as possible; and he 
 «is consequently often obliged to throw away advantages, 
 ‘ and to use those he keeps so as to be of little comfort to 
 a him. He necessarily becomes what he feigns to be, and 
 | drags after him, without remorse, his family and all within 
 his influence. Such is the operation of the Poor Laws, 
 ‘ that deceit and selfdebasement, in various degrees, 
 may be taken to be of the very essence of pauperism. 
 Pique and spite are frequent causes of it, and are generally 
 the worst cases to deal with; but deceit and debasement 
 
 | are the means necessarily used to succeed, I have known 
 a man who earned a guinea a week, because his brother 
 could earn more, keep himself out of work for eight 
 months, with occasional intervals, and during the time 
 starve himself and his family on eight shillings a week 
 from the parish; which he contrived to get by various 
 impositions and persevering application. I knew another, 
 with a wife and family, who could earn sixteen shillings 
 
 a week at out-door work, but because a fellow-workman 
 received eighteen shillings, he went to weaving, at which 
 he could only earn ten shillings, and got two shillings 
 more from the parish. I have known cases of men 
 procuring themselves and their families to be turned out 
 
 of their houses, in order to compel the parish to find 
 
 7 ae Laws on [reland. 319 
 
 ‘b ance of a family for no other purpose than to get his | 
 
B20 iF The Original. : 
 
 them residences, though they well knew they should suffer 
 by the change. I knew a case of a woman, who having 
 heard that a neighbour had had some shoes given to her 
 children by the parish, swore she would have some too ; : 
 and being refused, set off to the magistrate in a borrowed 
 costume of misery, with all her children in rags, and 
 before she arrived, concealed their shoes behind a hedge. 
 Having told her tale of woe and oppression, and finally 
 succeeded, she sold the parish shoes the next day for 
 half their value, and squandered the money. Instances 
 like the above, though of common occurrence, will 
 generally escape detection, or, if the imposition is stated, 
 it will hardly be credited—especially against the solemn 
 and artful asseverations of the paupers themselves, who 
 having once made an application, it is a point of honour 
 amongst them not to be foiled; as it is to get as much 
 as others who are in anything like similar circumstances. 
 Besides, they will designedly plunge themselves so deeply 
 into distress that there is no alternative but to help 
 them out. I have frequently heard paupers use this 
 phrase: ‘I will throw myself upon you, and then you 
 must relieve me.’ 
 
 “In almost all cases paupers have more than they 
 choose to state, and, perhaps, from the way in which they 
 receive it, more than they are aware of. I knew the 
 
 case of a labourer who called his earnings 8s. 6d. a week, 
 
ah ae The A rt of attaining Fligh H1. ee 321 
 
 ‘a -and on Vachint statement had his jzent partly paid by the 
 
 a parish ; yet it was afterwards feed that he had advan- 
 a “tages equal to more than 20s. a week. He must have 
 4 known that he had more than he said, but he certainly 
 was not aware to what extent; and the appearance of 
 himself and his family, and their apparent mode of living, 
 were in conformity to the sum he gave in. Mismanage- 
 ment is | a necessary art with paupers, and they are at 
 such pains to conceal their real state from others that 
 
 _ they very rarely know it themselves.” 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 
 ” 
 
 (Continued,) 
 
 It is observable that animals accustomed to feed in 
 company almost always fall off if placed alone; and 
 with men in training to fight or run it is of great im- 
 portance to have some one constantly present, to keep 
 their spirits in a pleasing state of excitement. I will 
 _ here mention two instances of the effect of the want of 
 mastication. One is in horses; when any derangement 
 in their teeth prevents them from chewing their food, the 
 _ hide becomes hard and dry, more like the covering of a 
 hair trunk than of a living being. The other instance 
 
 is of a young lady, who was subject to dreadful fits, for 
 VoL I. Y 
 
Evie le ihe Original. 
 
 which no remedy could be discovered, till a physician 
 
 found out that her teeth were in such a state as effectually 
 to prevent mastication. He adopted the strong measure 
 
 of causing all her teeth to be drawn, and a fresh set 
 
 put in, from which time she completely recovered. A — 
 
 skilful dentist once told me that there were people so 
 ignorant, especially ladies, as to avoid mastication in order 
 to save their teeth ; whereas the very act is beneficial to 
 them, but still more the effect upon the digestion, upon 
 which the soundness of the teeth depends. Instead then 
 of swallowing the food whole and drowning it in liquid, 
 which many think harmless provided it is not strong, the 
 proper course is to masticate thoroughly, in a cheerful, 
 composed humour, and to drink in sips, rather than in 
 large draughts, so as to reduce what is taken into the 
 stomach into a pulpy state, easily and speedily acted on 
 by the gastric juice. If more liquid is required, it is 
 better to take it in moderation an hour or two after 
 eating, when it facilitates instead of impeding digestion ; 
 and by this course exercise, at least of a gentle kind, is 
 allowable, almost without restriction as to time, after meals. 
 
 A good preventive against a habit of taking large 
 draughts is to use small cups and glasses till a contrary 
 habit is formed ; and in general I find a wine glass a very 
 good regulator in drinking malt liquor, and that it makes a 
 
 smaller quantity suffice without the danger of forgetting the 
 
rule. With moderation in liquids it is much more easy to 
 measure the appetite, and there is very little danger of 
 taking too much solid food. When the appetite is weak, it 
 is difficult to know where is the proper limit in supplying it, 
 as there is no marked sensation. When it is vigorous, we 
 eat heartily to a certain point, and then feel distinctly 
 satisfied, without any oppression. This is a sort of first 
 appetite, and the moment it is satisfied we ought to leave 
 off. If we go on, the stomach seems to suffer a sudden 
 extension, which enables us to eat, without inconvenience 
 at the time, a great deal more than the body requires. 
 Sometimes the extension is longer delayed, and only pro- 
 duced by the action of quantity, or some particular 
 stimulant ; and accordingly we see people refuse to eat 
 more in the first instance, and then go on with great 
 _ willingness. But all this is pernicious and produces that 
 superfluity in the system which creates a disposition to 
 disease, and which, when carried far, renders disease 
 dangerous or fatal. How common it is to hear people 
 remark that they have dined after the first dish, and then 
 to see them go on for an hour, sacrificed to the absurdity of 
 the repast! Pressing to eat or drink, especially children, 
 is a species of civility more honoured in the breach than in 
 the observance. The appetite ought to be in such a state 
 of vigour that, when satisfied, the solid food seems 
 
 immediately to identify itself with the system ; and we 
 X 2 
 
 Lhe Art of attaining High Health. 323 
 
324 The Original. 
 
 ought to feel the liquid we ° take, instantly, to use F alstaff’s 
 phrase, “course from the inwards to the parts Scene 
 Then we rise from meals refreshed, not encumbered. The 
 signs of this desirable state, as exhibited in the countenance, 
 are clearness and smoothness of complexion, thinness of 
 lips and nose, no wrinkles under the eyes, the eyes bright, 
 the mouth inclined to a smile, not drawn down with a sour 
 look, as is the case with an over-charged digestion. ‘There 
 should be no fullness in the under lip, or uneasy sensation | 
 when pressed, which is a sure sign of derangement of the 
 stomach. Most especially the lower part of the nose 
 should have a clear, healthy appearance, not thickened and 
 full of dark dots and inflammatory impurities, as is so 
 frequently to be observed. The difference between a pure 
 state and that of irregular living is so great as to produce 
 in many persons an almost complete change of appearance 
 in expression of countenance and personal attraction ; and 
 attention to diet is of the first consequence to those who 
 wish to improve or retain their looks, as well as to enjoy 
 the perfect possession of their faculties. 
 
 As a proof of the efficiency of diet, I will here mention 
 what I experienced from attention to it on a particular 
 occasion. In the middle of August, 1822, I travelled in 
 a private carriage from Stuttgard to Paris without stopping, 
 except for an hour and a half each morning to breakfast, 
 
 being on the road four days and three nights. The course 
 
7 
 b, 
 
 The Art of attaining High Health. 325 
 
 my companion and myself pursued was this. We had a 
 basket, which we kept constantly replenished with poultry 
 or game, and bread and fruit. We ate sparingly whenever 
 we felt inclined. We never drank when we ate, but took 
 a little fruit instead. About a couple of hours after a meal, 
 if we felt at all thirsty, we took a little water at the first 
 post-house we came to. By this plan the motion of the 
 carriage did not at all disturb digestion; and, notwith- 
 standing the time of year, we were entirely without fever 
 or feverishness. We arrived at Paris perfectly fresh, and, 
 after taking a warm bath, supped in the Palais Royal. I 
 afterwards walked on the Boulevards till past midnight, and 
 rose the next morning at six, in as composed a state as I 
 ever was in my life. 
 
 When we left England in the preceding November, my 
 companion felt heated and much inconvenienced by 
 travelling, even so late as ten at night, and we were obliged 
 to remain three days at Lyons to give him time to recover. 
 Between Stuttgard and Paris he enjoyed perfect composure, 
 and on our arrival I observed that, notwithstanding he wore 
 a pair of tight boots all the way, his ancles were not in the 
 least affected with swelling; whereas the courier, who did 
 not understand passing through Champagne without tasting 
 the wine, though he was comfortably seated behind the 
 carriage, had his legs so much swelled that he had some 
 
 difficulty in getting up stairs. By the same course I believe 
 
326 | The Original. 
 
 I could travel indefinitely as to time,. not only without 
 inconvenience, but in high health. 
 
 The precaution of drinking little, and particularly at a 
 sufficient interval after eating, I take to be essential. I 
 also think it very beneficial to have the opportunity of 
 taking food in moderation as soon as it is desired, by 
 which the irritation of fasting too long is avoided, and the 
 stomach is kept in perpetual good humour. The plan of 
 eating and drinking beforehand, instead of carrying pro- 
 visions in the carriage, is a very pernicious one, as the 
 food becomes corrupted before it is wanted, and in the 
 
 mean time produces the uncomforts of fermentation. 
 
 MOBS. 
 
 I hate all mobs and tumultuary assemblies, on one side or 
 the other. They are the senseless instruments of party; the 
 clumsy machinery by which imperfect government is carried 
 on, or opposed, by imperfect politicians. They are in their 
 very nature unlawful and unconstitutional, directly at 
 variance with our free institutions, which are as much 
 opposed to anarchy as to despotism. ‘They are alternately 
 encouraged ‘from interest or tolerated from fear. The 
 following extract from a letter from Dr. Priestly to the 
 people of Birmingham, after the riots of 1791, is strongly 
 
 illustrative of what the mob spirit is capable ; and that the 
 
My Mother. 
 
 _ progress of civilisation has been able in no degree to 
 
 assuage that spirit, N ottingham, Derby, and Bristol afforded 
 
 indisputable proofs in recent times. The Birmingham mob 
 was on the Tory, the others on the Whig side. 
 
 “You have destroyed the most truly valuable and useful 
 apparatus of philosophical instruments that perhaps any 
 individual, in this or any other country, was ever possessed 
 of, in my use of which I annually spent large sums, with 
 no pecuniary view whatever, but only in the advancement 
 of science, for the benefit of my country and of mankind. 
 You have destroyed a library corresponding.to that appa- 
 ratus, which no money can re-purchase, except in a long 
 course of time. But what I feel far more, you have 
 destroyed manuscripts, which have been the result of the 
 laborious study of many years, and which I shall never 
 be able to re-compose; and this has been done to one who 
 
 never did or imagined any harm.” 
 
 e 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 In the article on the art of attaining high health, in 
 my fourth number, I had occasion shortly to mention 
 my mother. She was indeed in many particulars an 
 example for her sex—an example too valuable to be 
 altogether lost. I will sketch for study one or two of 
 
 the agreeable features in her character. When I was 
 
328 The Original. 
 
 living alone with her, as already stated, I used occasionally 
 to go out to dinner in the neighbourhood, and afterwards 
 to walk home late, sometimes very late. By the way, 
 I will remark that I have never felt my mind so vigorous 
 as frequently when walking home in the country after a 
 dinner-party. The excitement of company and good 
 cheer, heightened by exercise in the refreshing cool of 
 the night, produces an effect on the spirits, according to 
 my experience, unequalled at any other time; and it 
 seems to be something the same with horses, which never 
 go with such alacrity as when returning home after a good 
 feed, and in company, at night. But to resume ;—at 
 whatever hour I arrived, I always found my mother 
 sitting up for me alone. Not a word of reproach—not 
 a question. If it happened to be cold or damp, I was 
 greeted with a cheerful fire, by which she had been 
 sitting, reading or netting, as her eyes would permit, and 
 with a colour on her cheek, at seventy, which would 
 have done no discredit to a girl at eighteen. She had 
 always the supper-tray ready, but not brought in, so as 
 neither to tempt me if I did not want anything, nor to 
 disappoint me if I did. When a man throws himself 
 into a chair, after the fatigues of the day, he generally 
 feels for a period a strong propensity to silence, any 
 interruption of which has rather a tendency to irritate. 
 
 I observed that my mother had always great tact in 
 
My Mother. 329 
 
 discovering the first symptoms of revival, till which she 
 would quietly go on with her own occupation, and then 
 inquire if I had had an agreeable party, and put such 
 questions as showed a gratifying interest, equally removed 
 from worrying curiosity and disheartening indifference. 
 I recommend the same course generally ‘to female con- 
 sideration and adoption. If, from any engagement, I 
 wished to breakfast earlier than usual—however early 
 she was always ready, and without taking any credit for 
 her readiness. If I was down before the hour, I was 
 almost sure to find her seated at table ; or, if the morning 
 was fine, walking composedly before the windows, with 
 breakfast prepared. If I desired to have a particular 
 dinner, it was served up just as I asked for it—no altera- 
 tion—no additional dish, with the very unphilosophical 
 remark,—“ You have no occasion to eat it unless you 
 like.” She seemed to be aware that needless variety 
 causes a distraction destructive of perfect contentment, 
 and that temptation resisted, as well as temptation yielded 
 to, produces, though in an inferior degree, digestive 
 derangement. I will mention only one other trait, and 
 _ that is, that though she was unremitting in her care and 
 attention when any of her family were ill, yet her own 
 indispositions she always concealed as long as she could, 
 —for it seemed to give her pain to be the cause of the 
 
 least interruption to the pleasure of those she loved. 
 
3 30 The Original. 
 
 GOOD FEELING. 
 
 Soon after the battle of Waterloo, when so many 
 maimed and wounded officers were seen in the streets, 
 a gentleman passing along Bond Street was somewhat 
 forcibly pushed against the wall by a porter. In the irrita- 
 tion of the moment he raised a small cane he had in his 
 hand, and gave the porter a smart cut across the shoulders. 
 The man instantly turned round and threw himself into 
 an attitude of attack; but perceiving his adversary had — 
 lost his right arm, he took off his hat, and without 
 
 saying a word, passed on his way. 
 
 SAYINGS. 
 
 Many people have a great horror of the purse-proud. 
 I cannot say that I have; for I am always perfectly at 
 my ease with them. It is the purse empty that I dread. 
 “‘ Poverty is no crime,” is a common saying in the mouths — 
 of the indolent and the improvident; nine times out of 
 ten, I believe, it approaches very near. But poverty proper 
 is a disease nearly worn out in this country, and its place 
 is supplied by pauperism, or the spirit of dependence, on 
 which I have remarked in a former publication. “ Of all 
 taxes upon means—of all clogs to self-advancement—of all 
 drawbacks upon enjoyment, assuredly the dependence of 
 
 those who ought to depend upon themselves is the heaviest 
 
vA 
 
 ee ed a ee 
 
 neal 
 
 fortune, the frugal tradesman, and the industrious labourer, 
 
 an 
 iF 
 
 —each in his degree is haunted, threatened, importuned, 
 
 b and preyed upon. To avoid this fate, how many are afraid 
 
 to accumulate! how many give up in despair !—how many, 
 
 seeing ruin inevitable, prefer to ruin themselves, and plunge 
 into that state it would have been the labour of their lives 
 to avoid! The most accurate description of English poverty 
 I ever heard was from a beggar-boy in Italy, who accosted 
 me at the door of a post-house, whilst I was waiting for 
 
 horses. He made some observations, which led me to 
 
 ask him if he thought there were no poor in England: to 
 
 which he replied, “Oh! yes, yes; but in England they 
 are all rich poor—in Italy we are poor poor.” 
 
 Complaining of adverse fortune, keeps fortune adverse. 
 A happy disposition to improve opportunities, sooner or 
 later, I believe, never fails of success. 
 
 True courage is that which is not afraid of being 
 thought afraid ; the rest is counterfeit——Such for the most 
 
 part is duelling courage. 
 
No. IX.] WEDNESDAY, JULY 15, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 ADDRESS TO THE READER. 
 
 DEAR READER, whether gentle or simple, male or female, 
 young or old—for I am happy to say I have all sorts. 
 
 I do not know whether you find yourself in any degree 
 wiser, or better, or happier for my labours so far as they 
 have gone, but I am sure I do. At least, from the very 
 frequent testimonies I meet with, I cannot doubt but that 
 I have contributed to your amusement; and I consider 
 that to be a great point gained, if I can maintain it; be- 
 cause with amusement, you cannot fail in the end, consider- 
 ing the sources I draw from, to derive considerable profit. ; 
 In my first addresses I told you it was an alterative diet of 
 sound and comfort bie doctrines, blended with innoxious 
 amusement, that I proposed to set before you, and I hope 
 so far I have kept my word. Like all alteratives, it is 
 only by perseverance that mine can produce much effect, 
 and you must learn from my desultory writings, what is to 
 be learnt, as you would from other people’s conversation, 
 by habitual attention. 
 
 I have been much amused with the progress of opinion 
 
Address to the Reader. Bare 
 
 ‘as to my undertaking. When I first mentioned it, I was 
 told I should never begin, or that I should never go on, or 
 that I should involve myself in dangerous expense, or that 
 there was something startling and improper in a man in a 
 public situation like mine, conducting a periodical, and that 
 
 to put my name to it was out of all question. Well, I did 
 begin, and I feel no diffidence of being able to go on, but 
 the contrary. I am in no danger from expense, and so 
 far as I can judge, the balance will turn in my favour. 
 After my earlier numbers appeared, the idea of any 
 impropriety in my being the avowed author of them 
 was deemed quite ridiculous; but still objections were 
 made, though all of the most complimentary kind, as that 
 my writings were too good to last, that it was impossible an 
 individual could alone sustain such a weight, and that, 
 considering my other avocations, I was tasking my time 
 ‘beyond all bounds. Whether these objections are valid, 
 time will show. As to the first—that my writings have 
 been too good to last—I beg, gentle reader, to inform you 
 that the reception they have met with will induce me to 
 redouble my efforts and attention to prevent any deteriora- 
 tion ; and that, after this number, I shall dedicate myself 
 with additional earnestness to your service. The general 
 observation now made to me is, that my work is not 
 sufficiently known, and that I do not take pains to puff it, 
 
 as the phrase is. It is true I have abstained from some of 
 
334 SANG Original. 
 
 the usual channels of notoriety, and have given my 
 publisher positive directions to do the same; being anxious, 
 in the first instance, to deserve success from confidence, 
 that in that case, if it comes slowly, it will come surely ; and 
 secondly, independently of personal feeling, Iam actuated by 
 what I consider a due regard to my station. I will tell you, 
 however, that, both in society and the streets, I am con- 
 stantly gratified and encouraged by volunteered testimonies 
 of approval—principally, as I have said before, as to the 
 amusement I afford. At the hazard of being accused of | 
 vanity or quackery, (and by this time you will have found 
 out that I hazard a good deal,) I will give you a few 
 specimens of written opinions I have received from persons 
 of very different characters. ‘They have the merit of being 
 honest, as they were perfectly unsought and unexpected ; 
 and they may serve as a sort of review, not eee 
 interest to those who take any interest in my work. The’ 
 first is from a country gentleman, not given to giving him- 
 self much trouble. He says, characteristically, “I reproach 
 myself with not having acknowledged ‘The Original,’ but 
 shall apply for mercy from the fact of having read it twice 
 over, a circumstance for which neither you nor any other 
 author could ever be prepared.” The second is from a 
 gentleman celebrated for the wit and piquancy of his 
 writings, and is expressed thus: “I wish you all the 
 
 success of the Sfectator, Tatler, and Guardian. What does 
 
a fo s oe ae 
 we: Pa ee 0 8 
 : ii ¥ >. ‘he — =, 
 ‘a « Hi 
 ee 
 
 A AMese 9 the Reader. | 
 
 “not society owe to the man who, after protecting the laws 
 5 ve so many hours a day, gives up the residue of his time 
 to- the amelioration of politics and morals? The ladies 
 | return you their best thanks for your lucubrations ; they 
 a would be much more happy to thank you here.” The 
 | third, which is from a lawyer and a scholar, has the follow- 
 E ing passage: “T sincerely wish you may make an impression 
 on the reading public. A friend of mine says you will soon 
 be tired of writing so much good sense. I do not think so, 
 if you find or make no appetite for such wholesome food.” 
 The fourth, and only one asked for, is from an unpretend- 
 ing lady, who says, amongst other praises, “I must compli- 
 ment you upon the religious, moral, and benevolent feelings 
 which go through your work.” The last is from a man of 
 high connections, to whom I gave the monthly part, contain- 
 ing the first six numbers, and is as follows: “A great many 
 thanks for your present. I could not stop till I had read it 
 quite through. Sound sense and right feeling are, I may 
 Say, in every page of it, and excellent language. Go on. 
 Your description of Italy is lovely. I am all for your 
 democratic principle. Your advice, too, about health is 
 perfectly good. Go on, then, I say, and give us more 
 instruction and amusement, and as well and agreeably told 
 as you have done.” ‘The above are not formal, but familiar 
 testimonials, and are the more satisfactory on that 
 
 account. 
 
 ee. 
 
336 The Original. 
 
 With respect to the effect produced upon myself by my 
 weekly undertaking, I find it has a tendency ‘o increase 
 three out of the four essentials to happiness enumerated 
 by Dr. Paley in the sixth chapter of the first book of his 
 Moral Philosophy, which chapter ought to be familiar to — 
 every one. In the first place, it furnishes “ exercise to the 
 faculties in the pursuit of an engaging end;” and this I think 
 must be so evident as to need no illustration. Secondly, it 
 contributes to ‘‘a prudent constitution of habits,” inasmuch 
 as I am obliged to be more attentive to my diet, to exercise, 
 and to early rising ; otherwise I should often be unequal to 
 the task I have imposed upon myself, and I find it easy or 
 difficult, agreeable or irksome, just as I live. With a little 
 more practice I expect to acquire a complete command of 
 my habits. Then the search after, and contemplation of, 
 what is excellent, greatly increase my love for it, and give 
 me a distaste for everything unworthy ; besides which, as 
 occasion demands, I find stores in my mind long since 
 dormant or forgotten, and I can scarcely take up a book or 
 a newspaper, or go into society, or pass along the streets, 
 that something worthy of note does not occur to me. The 
 third essential to happiness, according to Paley, is health, 
 and that, as I have above observed, I am obliged to attend 
 to. What he says upon the subject accords so much with 
 my views, and with what I have laid down, that I will here 
 
 subjoin it; I have already given the high medical authority 
 
of Dr. Gregory in support of my positions. ‘The passage 
 
 from Paley is as follows :— 
 
 “ By health I understand, as well freedom from bodily 
 
 be distempers, as that tranquillity, firmness, and alacrity of 
 
 Pi mind which we call good spirits; and which may properly 
 
 enough be included in our notion of health, as depending 
 
 commonly upon the same causes, and yielding to the 
 
 “same management, as our bodily constitution. 
 
 “ Health in this sense is the one thing needful. -There- 
 fore no pains, expense, | self-denial, or restraint, to which 
 we subject ourselves for the sake of health, is too much. 
 Whether it requires us to relinquish lucrative situations, to 
 abstain from favourite indulgences, to control intemperate 
 passions, or undergo tedious regimen ; whatever difficulties 
 it lays us under, a man who pursues his happiness rationally 
 and resolutely will be content to submit. 
 
 “When we are in perfect health and spirits we feel 
 in ourselves a happiness independent of any particular 
 gratification whatever, and of which we can give no account. 
 This is an enjoyment which the Deity has annexed to 
 life; and it probably constitutes, in a great measure, the’ 
 happiness of infants and brutes.” 
 
 In conclusion, I have every reason so far to be 
 satisfied with the result of my labours, having hitherto 
 met with nothing but unqualified commendation; and I 
 feel that the desire to increase the interest of my work 
 
 VoL. I. ; Z 
 
Bao The Original. 
 
 will increase with its success. There is one testimonial 
 in my favour, which affords me particular satisfaction ; 
 and that is, that so far from having no honour in my 
 own country, I learn my numbers are eagerly desired in 
 the village where I long lived, and where I commenced 
 
 my study of the administration of the Poor Laws. 
 
 ISCARIOTISM. 
 
 A single and apt expression for an important combination 
 of ideas has great convenience and efficacy. It prevents 
 confusion, and tends to establish truth and right. It 
 furnishes a distinctive mark for what is good or bad, for 
 what is worthy of honour or dishonour. A pretended 
 zeal for the welfare of others, for the purpose of basely 
 promoting one’s own, I term Iscariotism. Zhen took Mary 
 a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed 
 the feet of Fesus, and wiped his feet with her hair. Then 
 saith one of the disciples, Fudas Lscariot, Why was not 
 this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the 
 poor? This he said, not that he cared for the poor; but 
 because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what 
 was put therein. It was Iscariotism that Dr. Johnson 
 meant, when he said, in allusion, I believe, to Wilkes, 
 that patriotism was the last resource of a scoundrel. Patri- 
 
 otism is pure gold ; Iscariotism its base counterfeit. The 
 
ee 
 
 ———————a—L 
 
 The Art of attaining ffigh Flealth. 339 
 
 ' 
 
 prevalence of Iscariotism is a reflection upon the consti- 
 
 Z 
 tution or administration of any government, because it 
 
 cannot exist but where there is weakness or corruption. 
 
 ‘Vigour and purity are quite fatal to it. It thrives under 
 
 the oligarchic and ochlocratic principles, but withers to 
 nothing under the democratic, in the sense I use that 
 term in my first number. It lives by being paid by the 
 many, or bought by the few, and its course is determined by 
 
 the highest bidding. Its real character is gross selfishness ; 
 
 ‘its assumed, disinterested zeal; its means of succeeding, 
 
 falsehood and impudence. Besides political, there are 
 charitable Iscariots, who serve their own ends by a busy 
 interference in public institutions. Their real character 
 is selfishness also: their assumed, extraordinary philan- 
 
 thropy and liberality ; their means of success, plausibility 
 
 and cunning. Besides selfishness, Iscariots, political and 
 
 charitable, have this in common, that they aim to keep 
 those they affect to befriend, in a constant state of 
 
 dependence. 
 
 THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH. 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 Before I resume my remarks on diet, I have a few 
 desultory observations to make. I have frequently had 
 
 occasion to remark on the very different state of my feet, 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 Lhe Original. 
 
 that sometimes they were not at all inconvenienced by 
 exercise, and at others liable to blister, or to a sensation 
 of fullness or heat—that at one time I was annoyed by 
 coms, at another perfectly free from them—that the same 
 shoes would be sometimes easy, and at others much too 
 tight—that at some seasons I walked with perfect free- 
 dom and alacrity, at others with a difficulty amounting 
 almost to lameness. All these variations, I have long 
 since ascertained, depend entirely upon the state of the 
 digestion, though I have heard my remarks to that effect 
 turned into ridicule by the unthinking. I have now a pair 
 of shoes rather smaller than usual, which have given me 
 an opportunity of making my observations with great accu-* 
 racy, and I find that by excess of diet, which I have 
 purposely tried, they become so painful that I am obliged 
 to take them off, and even that does not afford instant 
 relief; whilst they are perfectly easy as long as I take 
 only the requisite quantity of food, and at proper times, 
 —for I have proved that so soon as I have fasted too 
 long, uneasiness commences, not to the same extent as 
 from excess, but still that there arises a certain degree 
 of irritability upon which the pressure acts. Eating mode- 
 rately, I find, affords instant relief,—that is, Content 
 the stomach, and every other part will be content. 
 Moreover, provided the digestion is in a perfect state, 
 
 any inconvenience from external causes, such as from 
 
}' 
 
 The Art of attaining High Health. 341 
 
 the pressure of shoes actually too small, only lasts 
 as long as the external cause acts. The moment the cause 
 is removed, the effect ceases ; but it is otherwise where the 
 frame is out of order from deranged digestion. Then it 
 takes some time for the part affected to recover its tone, 
 or it may be that actual disease is the consequence, ac- 
 cording to the force of the cause acting, or the tendency 
 to disease. People die from a wound in the foot, or a cut 
 finger, on account of their previously improper living, which 
 has disposed their bodies to disease, and the wound or cut 
 is the exciting cause ; but with those in perfect health, cure 
 commences immediately after the injury, whether the injury 
 be great or small, provided it is not in a vital part. Hence, 
 in accidents, it is necessary with most people that they 
 should submit to the influence of diet and medicine before 
 -acure can be effected ; and the same course is generally 
 pursued before an operation, the only reason being, that 
 there are very few who live as they ought to do. The 
 difference in the state of health is so great, that the same 
 blow which would cause death in one man would not even 
 produce discolouration in another. 
 
 Once, when I was riding at Rome, my horse suddenly 
 ran up a steep bank, and threw me off behind with 
 great force on my head upon a hard road. I felt a 
 violent shake and a very unpleasant sensation for the 
 
 moment, but experienced no bad consequences whatever. 
 
342 The Original. 
 
 For some time previously I had been living very carefully 
 as to diet, and had taken a great deal of exercise, otherwise 
 I am confident I should have suffered greatly, if not 
 fatally; as it was, I had no occasion even to take any 
 precaution, and I felt nothing beyond the one shock. 
 Had my vessels been overcharged, the effect must have 
 been very different. 
 
 But to return to tight shoes. Everybody must have © 
 observed that they are more inconvenient at the end of 
 the day than at the beginning, and most of all after a 
 full dinner, though they may not have been aware that 
 over-fasting will produce something of the same effect, 
 and that consequently the whole is referable to the state 
 of the digestion; for even the fatigue of the day does 
 not act directly upon the limbs, but first upon the powers 
 of the stomach. Restore them, and the sensation of 
 fatigue disappears. Labour and _ exercise, when the 
 stomach is too full, or too empty, especially the former, 
 cause great uneasiness; and as soon as the stomach is © 
 relieved, the weariness is relieved also. Even that fatigue 
 of the limbs, which seems only removable by rest or 
 sleep, I believe equally depends upon the same cause, 
 and that it is the stomach which first requires repose. 
 Where it only requires food, as I have just remarked, 
 the fatigue of the limbs will disappear without rest; 
 
 when it has received too much food, the fatigue will 
 
The Art of attaining FIigh Flealth. 343 
 
 in like manner be relieved as digestion proceeds. I 
 recollect once, when walking a long distance before 
 breakfast, I became at length so wearied as only to be 
 prevented by my companion from lying down in the 
 road ;.and when I had breakfasted, I was immediately 
 fresher than when I started. After eating too heartily, 
 I have experienced still more distressing weariness, which 
 has gradually disappeared, without any cessation of 
 exercise, as digestion has proceeded. This is something 
 the same as what is called second wind in boxing or 
 running. It may be said that when the feet are incon- 
 veniently affected by exercise they are relieved by placing 
 them in a horizontal position; but I apprehend that 
 position is chiefly beneficial as affecting the connection 
 with the stomach, and that for any other reason it would 
 be nearly useless ;—in short, it appears to me that in. the 
 stomach is the spring upon which entirely depends every 
 other function and every other affection of the frame. 
 
 With respect to corns, I have been treated with great 
 ridicule for asserting that they are dependent upon the 
 digestion ; but I have observed these things, and the 
 ridiculers have not. With me, when I am in the best 
 health they disappear, and only come, or inconvenience 
 me, in proportion as I am careless. This I have ascer- 
 tained over and over again. Of course they are made 
 
 better or worse by different kinds of boots or shoes ; 
 
~ * 
 
 : 344 The Original. 
 
 but no kind of boot or shoe will bring them unless 
 
 there is a tendency from improper living. Pressure would 
 
 only affect as long as it lasted, but would cause no 
 
 formation without some superfluity to work upon. ‘The 
 reason why corns shoot on the approach of rain is that 
 the change in the atmosphere more or less deranges the 
 digestion, which causes a throbbing sensation. I have 
 made these remarks because the state of the feet is of 
 so much importance to our comfort and activity, and 
 because I think they are applicable to the general 
 management of ourselves, and may be useful to those 
 who are subject to gout, rheumatism, cramp, and other 
 diseases of the limbs. My principal aim is to furnish 
 my readers, from my own observation and. experience, 
 with sufficient hints to induce them to think, and to 
 notice what happens to themselves. If I am not always 
 perfectly right in what I lay down, I do not much mind 
 that, provided I enable others to get right in detecting 
 my errors. I am sure I am~not very far from the truth 
 in my principal positions. 
 
 I believe that species of health is the best, and cer- 
 
 tainly the most prized, which is the result of study and 
 
 observation, and which is preserved by constant watchful- 
 
 ness and resolution. Anxiety and quackery are destructive 
 of health, but a reasonable attention is absolutely necessary. 
 
 Those who constitutionally enjoy robust health seldom 
 
ee a es ee 
 
 Ve 
 
 know how sufficiently to value it; besides which, for want 
 
 a of discipline they are not often so well as they think 
 
 themselves. They frequently mistake strength for health, 
 
 . ) though they are very different things—-as different as St. 
 
 Paul’s clock from a chronometer. The weaker mechanism 
 often goes the best. .I think that those who are so 
 
 constituted as to be well with care, have on the whole 
 
 the most reason to be thankful, as being most likely to 
 
 enjoy permanent well-being of body and mind; there is 
 often a recklessness about constitutional health which is 
 
 dangerous to both. 
 
 REGULATION OF CHARITY. 
 
 There is nothing more destructive to the interests of 
 mankind than the principle of providing for those whom 
 Providence intended to provide for themselves, whether 
 
 the principle is put in practice by Government or by 
 
 Individuals, whether by Poor Laws or by private bounty. 
 
 By destroying moral energy it destroys the soul, and 
 under the mask of kindness is the height of cruelty. 
 Every one who idly gives, or to gratify his own feelings, 
 or to avoid importunity, so far from well deserving, is 
 answerable for the consequences arising from debasement. 
 Casual charity is much to be deprecated ; for the objects 
 
 of it are ever undeserving, and it serves only to create, 
 
346 The Original. 
 
 or perpetuate, a lost race. The rule is, that human 
 beings are born into the world with a capability of self- 
 dependence, if they please to avail themselves of it, and 
 the exceptions are so few as not to be worth providing 
 for beforehand. To help those who are helping them- 
 selves, or who only want a fair start, is most praiseworthy 
 and beneficial. To relieve the few whom unavoidable 
 calamity has utterly overwhelmed, or overtaken too late 
 in life to have a chance of retrieving themselves, is a 
 gratifying duty; but to lay down any general rule that 
 the old are to be maintained, the fatherless to be pro- 
 vided for, the sick to be taken care of, is to render 
 null God’s ordinances in favour of prudence and foresight 
 in the shape of the ordinary changes and vicissitudes of 
 life. There is no excuse for poverty so weak as that 
 of old age; it is the very reason why a man should 
 have made provision for himself. Though it is commonly 
 assumed to be a sufficient plea for help, the truth has 
 only to be stated to be past dispute. If the fatherless 
 are held to be legally entitled to relief, the parental 
 feeling of obligation to provide for children will be 
 weakened or destroyed. If the sick are to be taken 
 care of by law, one of the chief uses of health will be 
 perverted or neglected. Particular cases of old age, pro- 
 tracted beyond the usual period, children left destitute 
 
 by extraordinary contingencies, or sickness of uncommon — 
 
Regulation of Charity. 347 
 
 violence or duration, furnish legitimate objects for the 
 voluntary care of relatives, friends, and neighbours, and 
 that resource, if left to free operation, would always be 
 found at least amply sufficient. Legal provision either 
 makes the mass of misery it can but inadequately relieve, 
 or is a wretched expedient for remedying the demoralisa- 
 tion and debasement of defective government. Give men 
 fair play, with the full consequences of their own actions, 
 and they will exhibit human nature according to a much 
 higher standard than that of any system of Poor Laws. I 
 will conclude this article with two strong illustrations—one 
 a public, the other an individual case, in which relief was 
 | more than commensurate to an extraordinary emergency. 
 *In July, 1794, a fire broke out in the hamlet of Ratcliff, 
 in the parish of Stepney, which consumed more houses 
 than any conflagration since the Fire of London: above 
 six hundred were burnt. An account was transmitted to 
 Government, and arrived during the sitting of a Cabinet 
 Council. In consequence, one hundred and fifty tents 
 were ordered to be pitched for the reception of the 
 distressed sufferers, and food was distributed for their 
 relief ; besides which, covered waggons were sent from the 
 Tower to accommodate those for whom the tents were 
 not sufficient. Amongst other subscriptions in aid of the 
 sufferers, 47,000 was collected at Lloyd’s in one day, and 
 
 on one Sunday alone the sum of £800 was received from 
 
Ae oe 
 
 348 — The Original. 
 
 visitants to the camp and ruins, of which L426 was in 
 copper, and £38 14s. in farthings—showing indisputably 
 the universal sympathy of rich and poor on this call on 
 their charity ; and notice was soon given that there was 
 no need of further aid. 
 
 The second case is the following. About eighteen 
 years since, the rector of the parish of Whitechapel was 
 called in the middle of the mght to baptise four 
 male infants, just born of one mother. The father, a 
 journeyman shoemaker, was at a loss for names, and was 
 overwhelmed at his prospect of what he thought certain 
 ruin. At the suggestion of the rector, the children were 
 named according to the order of their birth, Matthew, 
 Mark, Luke, and John, and he caused the facts to be 
 inserted in the newspapers. The consequence was, a vast 
 number of personal inquiries by different classes, large 
 presents of baby-linen and other things, and unsolicited 
 contributions to the amount of nine hundred pounds. 
 The children all died before the expiration of fourteen 
 months, and the greater part of the money was soon 
 after wasted in mismanagement and extravagance. 
 
 I will add, that well-reputed widows, with large families 
 and slender means, are often even benefited, pecuniarily 
 and as to the advancement of their children, by the loss 
 of their husbands, on account of the many friends they 
 
 meet with. Indeed I do not think there is a man or 
 
Letters from the Continent. 349 
 
 woman in this country who deserves support, that does 
 
 in not find it; but of this I am quite sure, that the contrary 
 ae: 
 
 ‘e 
 
 le: <) ! 4 
 
 is much too often the case.* 
 
 Bea | LETTERS FROM THE CONTINENT. 
 
 A short series of familiar letters, written by fae in 1822, 
 ~ during a journey on the Continent, lately came into my 
 hands ; and by way of variety, I propose giving, through 
 a few numbers, such extracts as I think may afford any 
 amusement to my readers. 
 “Genoa, January 12, 1822. 
 “J was rather disappointed with Nice, though some 
 of the enarons are pretty, and the gulf of Villa 
 Franca as lovely as anything I ever saw. It was so cold 
 in the early part of the mornings that I was obliged © 
 to protect my hands in my walks by keeping them in 
 my pockets, and nearly the same at night—whereas in 
 the middle of the day I bathed in the sea, I may almost 
 say, to cool myself. This vicissitude must render it 
 necessary for invalids to be very careful. The air is so 
 dry that, notwithstanding the sharp frosts, we had young 
 
 peas every day for dinner, and I observed the plants 
 
 _ * These remarks have borne a little fruit. The Charity Organisa- 
 tion Society has made an effort—if a feeble and fumbling one—to 
 promote the study of the Art of Alms ; and the editor has worked at 
 this subject for twenty years. 
 
350 : The Original. 
 
 in flower and pod, as if it had been summer. In the 
 inn garden were orange trees loaded with ripe fruit. The 
 Olive groves about Nice are particularly fine, and the 
 shade in hot weather must be delightful. I remarked 
 many trees five feet in diameter, and bearing the marks 
 of extreme old age. The north coast of the Mediter- 
 ranean seems to be particularly favourable to the olive, 
 and it visibly degenerates, in whichever direction it 
 recedes. On New Year’s Day all the inhabitants of any — 
 consideration were out in the street in full court dresses, 
 calling upon one another, and when they met, kissing in 
 the streets—very wretches most of them—priests hugging 
 officers, and officers hugging priests. I hugged myself 
 that I knew none of them, to have such a liberty taken 
 with me by such rapscallions. The oranges in this country 
 are not near so good as we get in England, but I like 
 them for their freshness ; and for the same reason I think 
 the lemons delicious. After all, the trees, as they are 
 pruned for bearing, are too formal to be beautiful—they 
 look like trees in a pantomime, but they certainly give 
 the environs of Nice a very rich appearance. 
 
 ‘““We embarked on board a felucca on the 4th, but 
 landed at Monaco on account of contrary winds. There 
 we took mules to this place, the road being rendered 
 impracticable for carriages by the greatest storm there 
 
 has been for forty years. We had a very pleasant, 
 
‘\ 
 
 Letters from the Continent. 351 
 
 healthy, and interesting journey of four days, with three 
 mules and two muleteers on. foot, who kept pace with 
 us, sometimes patie rate of seven miles an hour. The 
 road is most interesting from the beautiful situations of 
 the towns and villages, the almost constant view of the 
 sea, the numerous and extensive olive, and orange, and 
 lemon groves, and the various evergreens and herbs with 
 which the rocks and mountains are covered. I recognised 
 many plants which we grow in green-houses. We entered 
 Genoa at full trot; Chapuis, our courier, in grand costume, 
 galloping before us, cracking his whip in the true French 
 style, cutting right and left at everybody that came in 
 his way, swearing and calling out in the most imperious 
 manner, and our two muleteers running along in the 
 greatest glee. At first I was quite ashamed of the display, 
 but everybody seemed to take it in good part, and rather 
 to like what in England would have caused Chapuis to 
 have been knocked off his mule at least twenty times. He 
 had been courier to Bonaparte, and he seemed to forget 
 for the moment that he was not in the imperial service. 
 
 ‘*T must not omit to mention the excellence of my mule, 
 which I rode down the steepest and most slippery places 
 in perfect safety. She only committed one fault, and that 
 was in stopping at an inn, when the muleteers were in 
 advance. Two men whipping behind, two pulling before, 
 
 and myself kicking in the middle, could not induce her 
 
352 The Original. 
 
 to move, except kicking most violently both behind and 
 before, till at last one of the muleteers returned and set 
 me forward. 
 
 ‘What a splendid place Genoa is! The palaces I think 
 much superior in magnificence to those at Venice, and 
 I have never seen anything comparable to the line of 
 the three principal streets. The environs, too, are quite 
 delightful on all sides, and I never saw such a number 
 of magnificent residences. The room in which I am 
 writing is splendidly ornamented with gilding and fresco 
 painting. I do not think I ever saw in London so 
 superb an apartment ; but in cold weather, as this is, 
 it is impossible to keep oneself warm. The floors 
 are all tiled. It seems the fashion to live high up. 
 Our rooms, which are in the principal suite of a former 
 palace, are nearly at the top of a lofty building. We 
 have eighty-six marble steps to ascend to get to them, 
 and it is something the same in most of the palaces I 
 have seen. I believe the family in general only occupy 
 the principal floor, and sometimes content themselves with 
 less ; and, indeed, it is impossible for an individual to want 
 the whole of some of these immense piles. In one palace 
 I counted twenty-five windows in front on one floor. In 
 many, carriages drive into the vestibule ; and the staircases, 
 landing-places, and halls are in proportion. To-day all 
 
 the world was out. The men wrap themselves up in large 
 
+ 
 as 
 
 a 
 of 
 
 fac >, with dark curls on each side the fore- 
 
 ves an elegant and delicate appearance, and in general 
 <3 ae — : ; 
 the complexions are good, and the manner and air pre- 
 
 sing. The men, too, are rather a fine race. The 
 LS te a 
 [ see of the place, the more I admire it.” 
 
 | 
 
 ape | 
 ate. = fe d 
 i e. 
 ,* 
 >) ———— 
 & 
 ae 
 ’ 
 WoL. 1: AA 
 
 are lightly clad, and wear only a 
 
 thrown over their heads, but not 
 
 The lower orders use printed calico. The muslin 
 
No. X.] WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 1835. [Price 3d. 
 
 GOLDSMITHS’ HALL. 
 
 On Wednesday last I was shown over the new hall of the 
 ancient and wealthy City Company of Goldsmiths, when it 
 was in a complete state of preparation for the opening 
 dinner. It is not my intention to say more of its archi- 
 tectural merits than to express my full agreement with the 
 general opinion, that it exhibits an extraordinary union of 
 magnificence, good taste, and comfort. It is in a political 
 and moral point of view that I am going to consider it—as 
 one of the institutions in accordance with my ideas of free, 
 efficient, and enjoyable government. I have long enter- 
 tained great admiration of the constitution of the govern- 
 ment of the City of London, and I believe to that 
 constitution we are greatly indebted for the preservation 
 of our liberties through so many ages. Not only on many 
 critical occasions have the citizens stood forth the sturdy 
 champions of political rights, but it can scarcely be doubted 
 that apprehension of their power has not frequently pre- 
 vented arbitrary measures from having been even meditated. 
 Such a citadel, always well garrisoned, and, what is of no 
 
 small consequence, always well rovistoned, close to the 
 
Goldsmiths Hall. 355 
 
 seat of government, cannot have been without the most 
 influential effects. The circumstances, too, of the King 
 himself not entering the City without first being announced 
 to the Lord Mayor at the gate, and of no soldiers being 
 allowed to be introduced without consent, have been out- 
 works not without use—especially the latter, because it has 
 enabled spirited magistrates to furnish examples of the 
 superiority of moral influence over physical force in quelling 
 disturbances. ‘The strength of the City has depended both 
 upon the union and the division of its government—upon 
 its union under the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, the Court 
 of Common Council, and the Livery ; upon its division 
 into wards and companies, though the latter may be 
 considered as only collateral, but still very important. 
 The union has produced unity of action and influence—the 
 division has produced discipline, and that confidence which 
 arises from a habit of consulting and acting together in 
 compact bodies, without which everything is vague and 
 moblike. The reasons why the City government has not 
 exhibited all the advantages of which it appears capable, 
 I apprehend to be twofold: first, because the boundaries 
 have not from time to time been extended, in hke manner 
 as the Romans were wont to extend their city boundaries, 
 as population and wealth increased ; and secondly, for want 
 of local improvement, which has gradually driven away the 
 
 higher classes of inhabitants, so that City honours have had 
 AA2 
 
356 The Original. 
 
 a continual tendency to fall into lower and lower hands. In 
 other parts of the country the machinery and splendour of 
 local. government are quite inadequate to what is wanted ; 
 in the City it is the reverse, and there is consequently a 
 waste, upon a population diminishing both in number and 
 quality, of what would suffice for far more extended purposes. 
 The City is like an ancient mansion kept up in all its former 
 splendour, after it has become so inconvenient that the 
 best members of the family will no longer live in it; and, 
 consequently, that which would amply supply their wants 
 is lavished upon less worthy objects, and for inadequate 
 ends. It is an establishment much larger and more 
 expensive than the locality requires, and those who 
 are called citizens are for the most part no longer 
 really such, but out-lying members and foreigners, 
 who attach themselves for what they can get, without 
 having any corresponding duties to perform, or any sub- 
 stantial interests to connect them. If government and 
 the means of government were ‘made co-extensive, the 
 benefits would be great in all ways. ‘The distinctions, 
 wealth, and various advantages pertaining to the City, 
 in the different ramifications of its government, would be 
 increased in attraction by diffusion, instead of being 
 inconveniently confined to a limited district of crowded 
 or narrow streets, thronged with business, and deserted 
 
 as to residence by the chief persons who have occasion 
 
Goldsmiths Flall. B57 
 
 to attend there. The City companies, which were origi- 
 nally so many brotherhoods for the protection of different 
 trading interests, have become in these times, I apprehend, 
 nearly useless in that view ; but as social bodies, governing 
 themselves, I consider them of high importance, and as 
 SO many strongholds of freedom, if it were seriously 
 attacked. They give a community of interest, they in- 
 crease each individual member’s stake in the country, 
 they create aggregate power, and a brotherly and social 
 feeling, forming altogether solid bulwarks to the body 
 politic. I have already alluded to the importance of the 
 City being well provisioned; and although City feasting 
 is often a subject of joke, and is no doubt sometimes 
 carried to excess, yet I am of opinion that a great deal 
 of English spirit is owing to it; and that as long as 
 men are so often emboldened by good cheer, they are 
 in no danger of becoming slaves. The City halls, with 
 their feasts, their music, and their inspiriting associations, 
 are sO many temples of liberty; and I only wish that 
 they could be dispersed through the metropolis, and have 
 each a local government attached in proportion to the 
 means of the establishment. Then would there be objects 
 worthy of the highest intelligence, united with social 
 attractions ; and improvement in government might be 
 
 expected to become steadily prozressive. 
 
358 The Orzginal. 
 
 SILVER THREEPENCES AND FOURPENCES. 
 
 I have often thought it would be very advantageous in 
 our daily money transactions to have some silver coins 
 of smaller value than sixpence. In pursuing the subject, 
 I have come to the conclusion that it would be bene- 
 ficial in three ways, and to a more considerable extent 
 than I at first supposed. First, it would greatly increase 
 small traffic, to the convenience of buyers and the profit 
 of sellers. Copper money is both disagreeable and 
 cumbersome, and, to avoid carrying it, we continually 
 abstain from laying out trifling sums, to the privation of 
 many little enjoyments and comforts. It is _ hardly 
 necessary to mention instances. They occur constantly, 
 in passing along the streets, in travelling, and, in short, in 
 much of our every-day intercourse—so that at the end 
 of the year both we, and those with whom we should 
 deal, are considerable losers. How often would a biscuit 
 or an orange be grateful and wholesome ! but the nuisance 
 of fivepence is a general bar to the purchase, and the 
 same with a multitude of twopenny and threepenny 
 matters. How often, to avoid the weight and jingle of 
 copper, do we avoid, or stop short of a turnpike ? 
 
 The second advantage would be the more accurate 
 regulation of prices and payments, which is of no small 
 
 consequence in our daily dealings. How many articles 
 
Meapir bt oy soy. ms a 
 
 j 
 
 Silver Threepences and Fourpences. 359 
 
 are charged sixpence, or a shilling, when they could be 
 well afforded much cheaper, merely for the convenience 
 of payment ! Consequently, the traffic is very much 
 diminished by a natural repugnance to give more than 
 the value; or if the purchase is made, it is accompanied 
 by a certain degree of dissatisfaction, which takes off from 
 the enjoyment. Not only is cheapness an inducement 
 to buy, but all prudent people like to have value re- 
 ceived. On the other hand, for the same convenience of 
 payment, the price is necessarily sometimes fixed too low, 
 to the loss of the seller. At the great clubs, where no 
 article is served for less than sixpence, double the quantity 
 wanted is often given, or nothing at all is charged. The 
 consequence is, a restraint on the consumption of many 
 extras, or a loss to the general account. The want of 
 smaller coins is a great drawback to the frequent use of 
 cabs, and the same may be said perhaps of boats on the 
 Thames. People do not like to be constantly paying an 
 over-price, or to be encumbered with pence, to the great 
 ‘detriment of the callings; for though sometimes too much 
 is paid, far more frequently employment is altogether 
 lost. 
 
 The third advantage would be in the regulation of gratui- 
 ties for small services, such as to waiters or porters at inns, 
 on occasions where sixpence is beyond reason too much, 
 
 or to horse-holders in the streets ; and here those employed 
 
360 The Original. 
 
 are either paid extravagantly, or not at all, or their services 
 are refused. Every one must have experienced again and 
 again the annoyance of applications for gratuities, which 
 it is difficult equitably to make payment of, and the con- 
 sequent dissatisfaction of one party or the other, or perhaps 
 of both. The instances I have given of the inconvenience 
 of the want of small coins, are only by way of specimens, 
 but others will easily suggest themselves. In conclusion, I 
 am of opinion that an abundant supply of silver threepences 
 or fourpences would materially increase the profits of many 
 small branches of trade, and of various humble callings— 
 that it would contribute much to the convenience and 
 contentment of those who have purchases to make, or 
 services to requite, and that any expense of coinage would 
 be far more than counterbalanced by an increase of reve- 
 nue from an increase of traffic. I say nothing of the effect 
 it would have upon casual charity, because I am decidedly 
 opposed to the practice; but its greatest merit in my 
 eyes is, that it would improve the market for honest 
 industry. 
 
 The following table will show, that by means of a supply 
 of threepenny and fourpenny pieces, any sum, not involving 
 the fraction of a penny, might be paid without the interven- 
 tion of copper. For the information of those unacquainted 
 with algebraical signs, the sign + signifies with the addition 
 
 of ;— signifies less by; and=, equal to. Thus, 8+2-3=7 
 
L[ryury and Insult. 361 
 
 signifies 8, with the addition of 2, and less by 3, is equal 
 
 to 7. 
 CSS Soma Pa a. a, 
 eS oa 64+4+4=14 
 6—-4= 2 T2493 = 15 
 “12-4-3= § 12+4=16 
 4+3= 7 I2+4+4-3=17 
 we4> 8 I2+4+3=19 
 G35 9 12 +4 +4 = 20 
 6+4=I10 12+6+3=21 - 
 nae Aa 3.11 | I12+6+4=22 
 
 64+4+3=13 L252 43-14 = 23 
 
 INJURY AND INSULT. 
 
 People are generally very ready to put up with even 
 intentional injury, when neither preceded nor followed by 
 insult. I recollect a strong instance of this. A man 
 _ applied to me for a warrant against another for knocking 
 out one of his front teeth, which he held up before me. 
 On my remarking upon his loss, he replied, ‘Oh! I should 
 not have come for that, only he called me a thief.” It is 
 ‘useful in going through life to bear in mind that courtesy 
 to, and sympathy with, those we have accidentally injured, 
 ordinarily diminish greatly the amount of reparation re- 
 quired, and sometimes even inspire as much good-will as 
 
 a benefit conferred. 
 
362 Lhe Original. 
 
 COUNTRY HOUSES: 
 
 When I used to frequent country houses I often heard 
 complaints made of the difficulty of getting down London 
 society, especially in parts remote from the metropolis. 
 Invitations for a short period, it was said, are not worth 
 accepting, and for a long one, except in particular cases, 
 not desirable. The easiest remedy for this dilemma seems 
 to be for persons acquainted with each other, who reside 
 in the same part of the country, or on the same route, 
 to make out lists of those they would wish to invite, 
 and for what periods, and at what times. Then, by a 
 comparison, arrangements might often be made, holding 
 
 out sufficient inducements, and satisfactory to all parties. 
 
 MARRIAGE IN LOW LIFE. 
 
 A few days since, when sitting on the bench, I received 
 the following note from a clergyman:—‘ W. B; is in 
 custody on a charge of drunkenness. He is wanted here 
 to be married. If his case will allow, discharge him, 
 that he may be at church before twelve o'clock.” It 
 then only wanted a quarter, so I had the prisoner brought 
 up immediately, and finding his offence was not of a 
 very grave nature, in consideration of the feelings of his 
 intended, I let him go, under a promise that he would 
 
 return to be judged. He was as good as his word; 
 
Marriage nm Low Life. 363 
 
 indeed I am not sure that the police did not keep an 
 eye upon him. It appeared that in order to make the 
 most of his last moments of bachelorship, he had gone 
 with three companions to Astley’s Theatre, thence to 
 supper, and was finishing his amusements with knocking 
 at doors and ringing bells, when he was captured at three 
 o'clock in the morning, after an assault upon a policeman. 
 
 From church his wife attended him to the office, and 
 waited, I suppose with anxiety, the result of my decision, 
 which was a fine of five shillings. This is rather an 
 extreme case; but I am afraid that marriage amongst 
 the very lowest classes is in general a very thoughtless, 
 joyless affair from beginning to end. Why it is so, I may 
 on some future occasion endeavour to show. 
 
 _Now I amon the subject of low life, which may have 
 some interest with those of my readers who know nothing 
 of it but by report, I will here mention a scene I wit- 
 nessed_in one of my rounds alluded to in my last number. 
 On entering an obscure and dirty court, about two o’clock 
 in the morning, we heard a loud laugh from a room in 
 
 which there were lights. We were informed by the officer 
 
 who accompanied us that it was called the painted” 
 
 chamber, from the walls being covered with rude draw- 
 ings, principally, as I recollect, of ships and portraits. 
 In the room were about eight beds, in each of which 
 
 was a man with a lighted candle over his head, and a 
 
 rahe 
 
364 The Original. 
 
 pipe in his mouth, enjoying and contributing to the wit 
 of the party. After talking with them for some time, we 
 left them to their mirth. These men were by profession 
 
 beggars, and were the choice spirits of their order—no 
 
 doubt as much exclusives as the most select circles in 
 the West. It can only be in a neglected state of society 
 
 that talent can be so degraded. 
 
 SAYINGS. 
 
 Many people are dreadfully shocked at anything like 
 insolence. It does not affect me at all; but I have a 
 horror of servility. The former often partakes of the 
 nature of independence ; the latter always of that of 
 meanness. I do not mind a man not taking off his hat 
 to me; but one that will not put it on, in spite of all 
 I can say, is a great annoyance. I do not dislike a 
 little vanity; it is ever an ingredient in the composition 
 of agreeableness. But humility makes me shudder, as 
 being a sort of reptile that I am always afraid of treading 
 upon; besides, like many other reptiles, it is very veno- 
 mous at times. There is a sweetish, pulpy manner, 
 which I have observed uniformly covers, both in men — 
 and women, a bitter kernel. What I most depend upon 
 is a sort of slow, substantial, John Bullish civility. 
 
 Few men ever enjoyed marked popular favour for their 
 
Florrors of War. 365 
 
 own merits, but out of opposition to others. The English 
 ladies who during the war had the bad taste to place 
 Bonaparte’s bust in their houses did it not out of 
 admiration for him, but out of hatred to those who were 
 
 opposing him. 
 
 HORRORS OF WAR. 
 
 The letter from which the extract below is made came 
 accidentally into my hands. It is from an officer to his 
 brother-in-law. Having showed it to a friend of mine, 
 it appeared in the Zzmes newspaper, in 1830, with the 
 following preface :—“‘ Though the following extract refers 
 to an event of no very recent date, yet there is something 
 so characteristic in its military bluntness and simplicity, 
 and so impressive in its powerful, but unaffected description 
 of the horrors of war, that our readers will, we dare say, 
 
 not think their time wasted in perusing it.” 
 
 ““Camp near Bhurtpore, Feb. 7, 1826. 
 
 “The Jauts profess to neither give nor receive quarter, 
 and the most horrible sight I ever saw was the following 
 day of the storm: I went round the walls, and found five 
 or six thousand of the garrison lying dead—the artillery- 
 men under their guns, which they had never thought of 
 quitting—the sepoys strewed in every direction, so as to 
 
 make it difficult to pass without treading ona body. A 
 
366 : The Original. 
 
 soldier’s blood by this time is as cool as yours, Jack, 
 and you may judge of my feelings by your own, when 
 I tell you that at each gateway there were five or six 
 hundred carcases, lying one upon another in all the 
 attitudes of death you can imagine a human being to 
 exhibit on such an occasion; and as in sudden death the 
 countenance retains the expression of the last moments 
 of feeling, you might read defiance, fear, resignation, and 
 fury, in the same assemblage. The expression of agony 
 and pain was beyond description. These gallant soldiers 
 wore a dress made like an Englishwoman’s warm winter 
 pelisse, of two pieces of coloured calico, and stuffed with 
 raw cotton, and quilted, which garment was intended to 
 serve the double purpose of warmth and armour, as a 
 sword would not cut through. In consequence, when our 
 people came in close contact with them at those gateways, 
 where the enemy could retreat no further, their dress 
 caught fire, and as hundreds fell one upon the other, 
 many were burnt, both of the wounded and the dead. 
 I was so_horror-struck, that I could have knelt down, 
 resigned my commission, and forsworn war in all its 
 circumstances ; and I am not very squeamish either, for I 
 have seen many horrible sights in my time, but none like 
 
 this.” 
 
Address to Labourers. ie 16, 
 
 ADDRESS TO LABOURERS. 
 
 _ The following address to a number of pauperised 
 labourers (taken from the Appendix to my pamphlet on 
 _ Pauperism) was written with a view to particular applica- 
 | tion, but owing to circumstances was never made use of. 
 It was intended for the commencement of an improve- 
 ment of system. I insert it here principally for the purpose 
 of inculcating what I conceive to be right notions into 
 the minds of those who, with the best intentions, are 
 apt to mislead the labouring classes, and to uphold them 
 in courses most detrimental to their welfare. 
 
 I wish to talk to you a little about your condition, which 
 I would willingly help you to mend. 
 
 You ought to be better fed, better clothed, and better 
 lodged. Every labourer in the land should be able to earn 
 sufficient wages to procure himself a constant supply of 
 comfortable clothing and nourishing food ; he ought to 
 have the means of bringing up his children decently, and of 
 teaching them what is suitable to their condition ; he should 
 be able to guard against the common accidents and 
 sicknesses of life, and also to lay by a sufficient store to 
 maintain his old age in comfort. 
 
 All this he should be able to do by his own industry. 
 There are many things to be considered, and many things 
 
 to be done, in order to bring about this change. Let us 
 
368 Lhe Original. 
 
 begin with considering parish relief, what it is, and what 
 effect it produces. There is nothing which concerns you 
 more. I dare say you think parish relief is something in 
 addition to wages. You are mistaken—it is chiefly a part 
 of wages, but given in a manner most hurtful to those who ~ 
 receive and those who pay. I will try to make this matter 
 plain to you. Let us suppose there to be two parishes, 
 each containing twenty farms, and one hundred labourers, 
 and suppose the labour of each man to cost the farmer 2s. 
 a day; but that in one parish the labourer only receives 
 1s. 6d., the 6d. being kept back, and put into a fund, to be 
 paid to him upon certain conditions. Suppose, also, that 
 in the other parish, at the end of each week, each man 
 receives for each day he has worked his full wages of 2s., 
 and suppose that he has nothing further to look to. You 
 understand, as he does his work, he receives the whole of . 
 his wages of 2s. a day; and upon his wages alone he is to 
 depend in sickness and in health, whether he has work, or 
 whether he has none, and for the maintenance of his family, 
 whether large or small, and in his old age he is to have 
 nothing to look to but the savings of his youth. Let us 
 see how it is likely he will conduct himself. As he has 
 good wages, he will be able to live well, and to work 
 
 hard ;* now, as there is nothing so good for health as hard 
 
 * This was written in a country where living is very cheap and 
 
 wages low. 
 
Letters from the Continent. 369 
 
 work with good living, he will seldom lose any time from 
 sickness, or be at any expense for the doctor. As he will 
 have no pay if he cannot get work, he will take care to 
 keep a good character, and satisfy his employer. As he 
 will have no allowance for a large family, he will not marry 
 till a reasonable time, and will most likely look out for a 
 _ wife like himself, who can work hard and manage well. As 
 he knows the comforts of his old age must depend entirely 
 upon the prudence of his early years, he will constantly be 
 laying by part of his wages; and as a steady man generally 
 keeps his strength long, he will be able to save enough to 
 spend his latter days in ease and independence. In such a 
 parish is not this the way that people would generally 
 
 go one 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE CONTINENT. 
 
 Lerici, January 16, 1822. 
 
 Yesterday we travelled on horseback all day over wild 
 and barren mountains, the road often very steep and 
 rugged ; but where it would permit, we generally went at 
 full gallop. We changed horses at every post, and a man, 
 meant for a postilion, though perfectly unlike our idea of 
 one, rode before us. The cattle and furniture were of the 
 most curious description—rather of a beggarly description, 
 or rather, they beggar description ; however, the beasts get 
 
 Net Lc BB 
 
370 The Orrgernal. 
 
 along, and are much safer than they look. A priest and a 
 lady riding astride, or rather sitting on the top of her horse, 
 with one foot on each side, as is the manner here, accom- 
 panied us part of the way. The felucca arrived this 
 morning with our carriage; but because the captain had 
 taken a passenger on board who was not mentioned in his 
 papers, a council of health deliberated before it could be 
 landed. You have no idea how strict they are on this 
 
 coast, for fear of infection. 
 
 Florence, February 2. 
 
 I do not like Florence as a city so much as I expected ; 
 but the statues and paintings are above all praise. I 
 idolise the Venus, and go to worship her almost every 
 morning. There is an air of divinity about her, which 
 did not break in upon me till after repeated contempla- 
 tion, and which, I dare say, the many never discover at 
 all, though they praise her as if they didseliccem 
 restored, discoloured, what must she have been when 
 fresh from the sculptor’s chisel >—On Thursday we went 
 to a grand ball, given by the Prince Borghese, Bonaparte’s 
 brother-in-law, on the opening of his palace, after a com- 
 plete refitting. He is the richest man in Florence. All 
 the best people here, both natives and foreigners, with 
 many ladies from Sienna and Bologna, were present. 
 
 The vestibule was filled with orange trees, so as to 
 
. 
 
 Letters from the Continent. Pace iat 
 
 _ form a delicious grove for the company to pass through, 
 
 and the staircase was lined with beautiful plants and 
 
 flowers, amongst which was a profusion of the finest 
 
 lilies of the valley I ever saw. There were sixteen 
 
 rooms open, all newly and superbly decorated. The 
 
 ball-room, which is large, lofty, and well proportioned, 
 
 is lined, as far as is seen, with mirrors, partially concealed 
 
 by pink and white silk hangings. The ceiling is newly 
 painted with the triumph of Scipio. The whole was 
 most brilliantly lighted, the music excellent, and the com- 
 pany in their best. The Englishmen were superior in 
 
 appearance to the Englishwomen—the contrary as to the | 
 
 Florentines. The Italian ladies dress beautifully, espe- 
 
 “cially the head. Indeed this is truly the land of taste, 
 
 and I never saw such a display of it as the other night, 
 in many particulars. Several of the Italian women were 
 very fine-looking—two beautiful; one so much so, that 
 she was constantly the centre of a circle of gazers, in 
 which situation custom, I suppose, had made her per- 
 fectly, but becomingly, at her ease. I preferred the other, 
 from a nameless something in her appearance, and I was 
 glad to learn that, though of high rank and great riches, 
 her fame is as fair as her person—a very singular case 
 here. I am happy to say my companion was the most 
 elegant man in the room by much, and I think the most 
 
 gentleman-like dancer. The Italians do not appear to 
 
 BeBe 
 
372 ; The Original. 
 
 me to dance well, and what surprised me, I observed 
 several out of time. 
 
 Italian horses do not well understand English riding, 
 and many are the accidents in consequence. I was one 
 of a party the other day in the Cascine, or Hyde Park 
 of Florence, when it was proposed to charge a ditch. 
 The foremost horse fell, and in rising, contrived to drive 
 in with his forefoot the lower part of his rider’s nose, 
 sO as in appearance utterly to annihilate it. He was 
 horribly disfigured ; and as he is a young and gay fellow, 
 when he felt the full extent of the injury he was naturally 
 a good deal affected. He had all our sympathies... Two 
 of us galloped off for medical assistance, and the rest 
 put him into a carriage, which a Russian nobleman lent 
 on the occasion. By the time the patient arrived, in 
 our zeal we had collected five doctors, surgeons, and 
 apothecaries, English and Italian, but happily little re- 
 mained for them to do. During his melancholy progress, 
 accompanied by one of the party, the sufferer, by an 
 irresistible impulse, kept applying his hand to the part 
 affected, till most unexpectedly, and precisely after the 
 manner of the toy called Jack-in-the-box, the nose started 
 into its proper place again, and at the same instant 
 despair was converted into extravagant joy. ‘This accident 
 has. had the effect of making us rather more careful than 
 
 hitherto, which may contribute to the safety of others, as 
 
Letters from the Continent. 373 
 
 well as our own. A few days since, in making a sharp 
 
 turn quick, I was very near riding over the Grand Duke, 
 who was walking with his family. Such things, which 
 might be attended with unpleasant consequences to natives, 
 are overlooked in the English; partly, I suppose, from 
 consideration of our national character, and partly, no 
 ; doubt, from motives of interest. I must give you another 
 little anecdote of the hero of the nose. One day, when 
 a party of us had sat at table till after midnight, he 
 sallied forth alone, and ‘hot with the Tuscan grape.” 
 Apprehensive of the consequences, I followed him, and 
 found him on one of the bridges over the Arno, engaged 
 with a solitary Frenchman, with whom he was insisting 
 upon having a boxing match. ‘The Frenchman, with the 
 instinctive horror of his nation of an English fist, depre- 
 cated most earnestly any such proceeding. With much 
 difficulty I induced my friend to go away, and I received 
 for my successful interference a shake by the hand more 
 expressive of gratitude than I ever experienced before. 
 There is a society here, called the Misericordia Society, 
 of which I have heard the following account, but do 
 not know if it is accurate. It is composed of men of 
 the highest rank, whose business it is, in case of accl- 
 dent or sudden death, to assemble at the sound of a 
 bell, and render what assistance may be necessary. That 
 
 there may be no personal ostentation, they wear black 
 
Bye Lhe Original. 
 
 masks. I met about a dozen of them the other day, 
 bearing a dead body through the streets. ‘They were all 
 dressed in black dominos, and, as it rained, in very 
 broad slouched hats. They never spoke, and relieved 
 one another in carrying with great dexterity and quick- 
 ness. Their step struck me as unusually majestic, 
 probably from their dress, and the solemnity of their 
 occupation. It was a very imposing sight. I am told 
 that sometimes the Grand Duke himself goes out and 
 assists. 
 
 It is very, very cold here—much colder than I ever 
 felt it in England. The air is so thin, and the wind 
 often so strong, that it seems literally to blow through 
 one. The men constantly wear cloaks, ordinarily hanging 
 open, but the moment they come upon the wind, they 
 throw them over the left shoulder, and carefully cover 
 their mouths. The houses are contrived with reference 
 to hot weather, and are very comfortless to English 
 feeling at this season. After dinner we often sit in our 
 travelling cloaks, with napkins put upon our heads like 
 judges’ wigs, which is very efficacious. The streets are 
 kept extremely clean, not, I apprehend, so much from 
 a love of cleanliness, as from economy of manure to 
 keep up the very high cultivation of the surrounding 
 country. 
 
 Florence abounds with palaces of a severe and prison- 
 
pny, tl MS i St ae et 
 4 ¥ > f - - 
 ib Claes ie : 
 
 ’ % , ~ 
 
 Letters from the Continent. . 375 
 
 like appearance, built for defence by her grandees in 
 turbulent but highly interesting times—the very opposite 
 of the peace, security, and dullness which reign at present. 
 Then all the faculties of the soul were called into action, 
 and virtues and vices were both prominent. Now every- 
 thing is decent in appearance through the watchfulness 
 of the Government; but the absence of all political interest 
 necessarily reduces the moral standard to a low level— 
 
 so that we may almost say here, with Hamlet, 
 
 <¢ What is a man, 
 If his chief good, and market of his time 
 Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. 
 Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, 
 Looking before, and after, gave us not 
 That capability and God-like reason 
 
 To rust in us unus’d.”’ 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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