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THE 
 
 NEWSPAPER PEESS, 
 
 IN PAUT OF THE LAST OENTUEY, 
 AND UP TO THE PEE8ENT PEEIOD OP 1860. 
 
 THE EECOLLECTIONS OF 
 
 JAMES AMPHLETT, 
 
 WHO EiS BEEN STTLED 
 
 THE FATHEE OF THE PEESS, 
 
 EXTENDING OTEB A PEKIOD 
 
 OP SIXTY TEARS IN CONNEXION "WITH- NEWSPAPERS, 
 LONDON AND THE COUNTRY, 
 
 " TTsJng heels instead of head 
 I hare seen what thou hast read.' 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 WHITTAKEE & Co., AVE MAEIA LANE, 
 
 AND 
 
 "W. WAEDLE, SHREWSBURY. 
 1860. 
 
fi\<(i>Oj^f^ 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO THE EDITOE OF THE TIMES. ' 
 
 Sm, 
 
 It 18 not from any particular or general eonciLrrence in 
 your views and opinions that induces "me to dedicate this small volume 
 to you, hut from the higher consideration, that the undisputed as- 
 cendancy of the Times has made it the National Journal, and a paper 
 necessary to be read by every statesman on the contiaent who is desirous 
 of knowing and appreciating the relative and varing interest of this 
 Country in the European compact. This may be said without any 
 disparagement to other daUy papers, which have a fare proportion of 
 public support, and merit sufficient to sustaia it. 
 
 By a daring and liberal espenditure, you have retained the 
 available talent of public writers in the different departments of your 
 Journal, at home and abroad, and are of more service to the govern- 
 ment in being independent of it either as an oflB.cial or semi-official organ. 
 
 You shrink not from the free discussion of all public measures, 
 and the conduct of all public men; I exercise the right of my own 
 private judgment, and dififer no further with others, than may tend to 
 disclose the respective independence of mens minds. 
 
 I take the broad maxim, that what a man believes to be right, 
 is right to him. 
 
 I have the honor to be, respected Sir, 
 Tour's faithftdly, 
 
 JAMES AMPHLETT. 
 
 Setebn Cottage, 
 
 Sheevsbtot, Febkuabt, 1860. 
 
The following Notices of the death of the Author of this Wori 
 are extraeted from the Shrewshury Newspapers. 
 
 DEATH OF THE " FATHER OF THE ENGLISH PRESS." 
 
 We have this day to record the death of one of the oldest and most respected 
 memhers of " The Fourth Estate" in England — Mr. James Amphlett, who 
 departed this Ufe, yesterday, at hia residence, Seyem-cottage, in this town, 
 full of years and joumalistlo honours. 
 
 The death of Mr. Amphlett has broken one of the few remaining liTiVa which 
 bind, as it were, the past and present age of joumaUsm together, "Writing his 
 first " leader" — and leaders were scarce things in country newspapers at that 
 time — upwards of sixty years ago, in a Staffordshire newspaper, the mind can 
 scarcely grasp the idea that it was only some nine years since hia last compo- 
 sition of the kind was inserted in our contemporary the Jownal, of which 
 paper he was for several years editor. Having a nice perception of the ameni- 
 ties of journalism, he was open-hearted and generous as a political opponent, 
 and while he upheld his party he never endangered personal friendships. Since 
 his retirement from the active duties of editorial life he has contributed much 
 to various newspapers, our own among the number ; and whilst the decadence 
 of his once-masculine powers Vas visible in his compositions, there were the 
 unmistakeable signs of that strength of intellect which unrelenting Time had 
 in process of years been gradually deadening. In early days Mr. Amphlett was 
 a powerful, vigorous, and sarcastic writer, his apt illustrations, witty points, 
 and extensive reading combining to give force to the productions of his pen. 
 His last effort was the compilation of a volume of " Recollections," but he did 
 not live to see them published (although nearly ready.) 
 
 Mr. Amphlett was well known to and intimate with several of the leading 
 poUtioians and theatrical celebrities of the earlier part of the present century, 
 and many were the curious anecdotes of their sayings and doings he stored in 
 his retentive memory. During his long life he was connected with various 
 newspapers either as proprietor or editor, and his comprehensive knowledge of 
 foreign politics caused his writings to be greatly noticed. 
 
 Cheerful and intelligent, a hearty and jovial companion, his society was 
 extensively courted, and " many a time and oft" has he set the table in a roar 
 by his sallies of wit or his ready repartee. He has departed &om among us in 
 a green old age, having attained some fifteen years beyond the proverbial 
 " three score and ten;" and while we, as brother joumaUsts, say, " Peace to 
 his ashes," we may be permitted to add our personal tribute of sincere esteem 
 and regard for him as a friend. — Shrewsbury Chronicle, July 20th, 1860. 
 
 THE LATE JAMES AMPHLETT, ESQ. 
 Our obituary of this week contains the death of tibis highly-esteemed gentle- 
 man who has for some years past occupied a somewhat prominent position in 
 this town' as one of its literary celebrities. He was for a great number of 
 
years connected with the newspaper press, for so many years indeed that he 
 was considered its oldest member, and has been styled, perhaps not inappro- 
 priately, the " Father of the English Press." He commenced his literary 
 labours, some sixty years ago, as the editor of the Staffordshire Achertiaer. 
 Since that time he had been almost uninterruptedly connected with the broad- 
 sheet. From 1845 to 1853 he was the editor of this Jowrnal, after which time 
 his active mind found congenial occupation in contributing to many first-class 
 journals and periodicals, with which his compositions foimd ready acceptance, 
 from tie talent with which they were writen. As a social companion he had 
 few equals, his retentive memory, and his acquaintance with long bygone 
 historical and political incidents and prominent personages, ever affording him 
 ready opportunity of keeping alive the interest of a company, either by his 
 sterling intelligence or by his piquant sallies of wit and humour, for which he 
 was remarkable. His latest production, and one which it was the last and 
 dearest wish of his heart to see published, a wish destined not to be realised, 
 was a volume of " EeeoUections of the Newspaper Press," which is now nearly 
 ready for publication. Mr. Amphlett has passed from among us at the ripe 
 old age of 85, with faculties almost unimpaired to the last, respected and 
 regretted by a large circle of friends and acquaintances. — Shrewshwy Jowrnal, 
 July 25th, 1860. 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 The Author of the present volume of Misoellanies, must apologise for a number 
 of verbal and literal errors which will appear in the work, from his not being able to read 
 the proofs, nor with the duU ear of eighty-four follow a reader with accuracy. 
 
 It is now about ten years since I was told by several personal friends, — a fact 
 pretty well known, to myself — ^that I had passed half a century in connexion with the 
 Newspaper Press; and that I ought therefore to publish a small volume of political and 
 poetical scraps, descriptive of characters and events worth noticing. I observed that with 
 the advantage of my being in possession of files and documents I might do something in 
 getting such a work out, but that I had not preserved a single scrap of prose or verse 
 during the previous fifty years. 
 
 An implied bargain was then made ; — I took the records and recollections olike 
 past, amd a few ladies and gentlemen took the scissors and old newspapers and pas^^, and 
 mila tout. 
 
 I offer no excuse for the freedom of my pohtioal strictures ; I had defended 
 through all times, and against all comers, the integrity of the constitution in Church and 
 State, subject to such improvements and reforms as were oaEed for, and justified by the 
 increased knowledge and intelligence of the people. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 iswlkn^ctts ^ulrj^rter-|fllili4al. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Birmingham Churcli and King Riots. 
 CHATTER II. 
 London Daily Papers, wHch have risen and gone down within the present century. — 
 Charles Mathews, Comedian. — Mr. Coleridge. — Case of Libel at Hanley, in the 
 Potteries. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Second and Third case of Libel. — Contest of Tamworth Election. — The Reporter. — 
 Coleridge, Charles Lamb, and Robert Hall. — The Rifleman. — Birmingham. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Birmingham (continued.) — The Father of the English Press. — ^Recollections of the late 
 Sergeant 'WilTtJTi.s. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 ThePress'of Past Times. — The Newspaper ; Letter I. — The Newspaper; Letter II. — 
 The Fag End of an Old Story : somewhat Literary, as Newspaper Gossip. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Newspaper Press; Letter II. — The Fag End of an Old Story, (continued.) — The 
 Newspaper Press, Letters III. & TV. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Difficulties of Lord Palmerston. — ^EngKsh Residents in Paris. — Paris' Gossip. — 
 Parisian Chit-Chat. — France. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Erke "White and his Manes. — ^Electioneering Scenes.- — Tie Press, Lincolnshire. — The 
 Press, Shropshire.— The Press, Staffordshire. — The Press. — Quick, the Comedian. 
 — The Volunteer Military Services. — The Rights of Editors. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Conclusion of the Church and King Riots, Birmingham. — Public Characters at the close 
 of the last century. — Godwin. — Godwin's Female Characters. — Holcroft's Letter. — 
 The Newspaper, Letter on Christmas, &c. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The Newspaper. — Comets. — Political Rumours and Speculations of the Week. — The 
 New Ministry. — ^A Glimpse of the opening of the First Session of a New Parliament. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 The Difficulties of thfe Goyemment. — Plain Statements of European Affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Redbum Hall, the Seat of the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans. — Dinner and Hawking 
 Match. — Prize Fighting. 
 
(Ph#Ian40tt3 ^«Irj^d2--|0Jti4al 
 
 STIBTEOT. PAGE 
 
 Don John, a Poem; in Nevspaper Cantos .. .. •• ..99 
 
 God Save the Queen . . . . . . • • • • • • . . 94 
 
 Heads and TaHs . . . . . . . . • • • • . . 104 
 
 Lines on the Queen's Yisit to Cherbourg . . . . . . . . ..95 
 
 Eeady Ehymes . . . . . . .' • ■ • • . . 98 
 
 The Great 'Una . . . . . . . . . . • • . . 102 
 
 Lines on seeing the Eepresentative of Sir John Falstaff in the array of the trades at 
 
 Shrewshury Show . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106 
 
 Eough and Eeady Ehymes . . . . . . . . . . • • 107 
 
 To Eliza .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..110 
 
 Original Song. — "There is l?ut One " .. .. .. . ..Ill 
 
 Of what is the Old man thinking .. .. .. .. ..112 
 
 A Companion to the lines of "Biho Junior," — ''Of what is the Old Man thinking" 113 
 
 AtoE. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..115 
 
 Answer by A. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116 
 
 TheMiss'd-OneatMardolHead., .. .. .. .. ..116 
 
 Dropt Shrewsbury Valentine . . . . • • • • • • ■ • 117 
 
 Lines on the White Swallow seen near the "Welsh Bridge . . . . . . 118 
 
 Lines on reading the BeUe of "Belmont," in a late Journal . , . . . . 119 
 
 Epithalamium. — John Frost and SaUy Snow . . . . . . . . 120 
 
 ToEHssa .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..121 
 
 The Eeply to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 
 
 Salopian Beauties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 
 
 Lines addressed to By a Salopian Bachelor . . . . . . . . 124 
 
 A Fancy Portrait, of a Salopian "Work of Art for the Exhibition . . . . 126 
 
 Lines addressed to . . . . : . . . . . . 126 
 
 Light Literature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 
 
 Lines on reading the Festiyities in honor of Miss Cludde . . . . . . 128 
 
 To Miss Georgiana Le Batt, in the character of the Eton Boy . . . . 129 
 
 The Sequel, by another Amateur . . . . . . . . . . 129 
 
 Inscribed to the King . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130 
 
 The Belle of Belmont— To N. . . . . . . . . . . 131 
 
 To my Salopian Lass . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I3i 
 
 Wine versiis Water . . . . . . : . . . . . , 133 
 
 Irregular Ode to Mr. Divett . . . . . . . . . . , , 134 
 
 Counter-point Lines, in answer to the lines on the "White Swallow . . . . 135 
 
 A Salopian Lament . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 
 
 La Belle Des Belles . . . . . . . . . . " . . . . 138 
 
 Siilopian Beauties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . X38 
 
 A Brief Puff of Smoke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140 
 
INTEODUCTOEY EEMAEKS. 
 
 The private life of an anonymous writer for the Press, however extended the 
 period of his experience, cannot have any materials of interest to the public. It is only 
 •whereby personal, or other intercourse will lead, or a knowledge of remarkable events, 
 that his recollections have any value with the reading public. I shall therefore very 
 speedily dispose of myself. 
 
 I was the second son of a Baptist minister — of whose life there is some record in 
 the Baptist Magazine. An elder brother, also a younger brother and sister have long 
 since been deceased, but have left descendants in the United States. 
 
 Four years of my life, from the date of the Birmingham " Church and King 
 Eiots," were a blank — ^in reading nothing but the trash of circulating libraries. 
 
 About the age of seventeen, I was sent to study for the Baptist M inistry, to the 
 well-known academy of Mr. Eichard Comfield, of Northampton. Comfield was a man 
 of great talent and varied knowledge ; but too much of a philosopher for the principles 
 of dissent ; yet he allowed his piincipal young men to discuss subjects pro and con. 
 
 Before I was well through the Latin grammar, I was prohibited by my father's 
 instructions, from learning the dead languages ; so that I was "stopt by the elements," 
 as some writer has said. Mr. Comfield educated several young men, who became dis- 
 tinguished Baptist ministers, among whom Dan Parken, an editor or contributor to the 
 Eclectic Review. 
 
 Here I shall conclude the early part of my life, by referring to a short sketch, or 
 recollections, written by Mr. Pidduck, a respectable sm-geon of Shrewsbury, on my 
 meeting the late Dr. Cox, at Mrs. Cooke's, at the " Mount," near this town, (Shrewsbury); 
 he was an old fellow student, and an opponent in discussion. 
 
 This brings me up to the period of my connection with the Press. 
 
2 
 THE FATHER OF THE BRITISH PRESS. 
 
 To the Editor of the Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 Sib,— A remarkable incident in relation to the early history of Mr. Amphlett 
 occurred in this town a few years ago. "When Mr. WiUiamB was appointed minister of 
 the Baptist Chapel in Claremoift-street, the late Dr. Cox, of London—the most eminent 
 man in that connexion— was invited to preach the ordination sermon, and during hia 
 stay in Shrewsbury was most hospitally entertained at Bowton-cottage, by Mrs. Cooke 
 and her daughters. Having about that time read some strictures by Mr. Amphlett, in 
 Uddowe^ Journal, in which he alluded to the Doctor's opinions in church matters, I con- 
 ceived that they must have known each other in former years. My surmise proved 
 correct, and Mr. Amphlett was invited to meet Dr. Cox. This meeting accordingly took 
 place, and the two old friends spent a very pleasant day together. I was not present, 
 but it must have been a striking scene to vritness the meeting of the two old men who 
 had never seen each other since the latter end of the last century — parting sixty years 
 ago' as youths at school, and meeting again, old men. Strange changes had taken place 
 in their own persons, but not more strange than the 'changes that all other things had 
 undergone since the day they parted as disputants at a Baptist academy, where they 
 were both studying for the ministry. The principal of this establishment — Mr. Richard 
 Cornfield, a philosopher and christian — gave his pupils liberty to discuss in the evenings, 
 as intellectual exercises, such topics as horse-racing, the war, the bounties given for 
 militia substitutes, and the difference between church and dissent. Mr. Amphlett and 
 a few other volunteers defended our ancient national sports, the war and the church. 
 The discussion on the latter question was continued for many evenings, tUl Mr. 
 Amphlett and one or two more argued themselves into the conviction that the church 
 was in the right, and the mere differences in the forms of worship could not justify trin- 
 itarian dissenters in their secession from the establishment. Dr. Cox led the dissenting 
 party. The resiilt of the discussion was a partial schism in the school, and Mr. 
 Amphlett left and returned to his father's in Wolverhampton, who was at that time the 
 Baptist minister there. A Baptist minister, a friend of Dr. Cox's, who was present at 
 this meeting of the two old friends, stated that one of the young disputants — Tom 
 Edmonds, the son of a dissenting minister at Guilsborough— was stUl living, and preach- 
 ing at Cambridge, though quite blind. Soon after Mr. Amphlett returned to 
 "Wolverhampton his father was invited to Evesham, and the school being disposed at, 
 Mr. Amphlett, jiuj., became connected with the press, as editor of the Staffordshin 
 Advertiser. 
 
 It is deserving of remark that M. D. HiU, Esq., Recorder of Birmingham, and 
 his brother, Rowland Hill, Esq., of the General Post-office, were both at the sdiool of 
 the Rev. "W. Amphlett at that time. — I am, &o., 
 
 Shrewsbury, June 17th, 1857. X. p. 
 
THE NEWSPAPER PRESS. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 BrEMINGHAM CHXmCH AND KiNG ElOTS. 
 
 |[T ought to be observed, that no regular description was ever 
 published of these remarkable riots, this was owiag to the con- 
 sideration, that the most respectable portion of the church-people were 
 ashamed of the scandal which such scenes wotdd bring on the town. 
 The presbyterians were obliged to hide themselves in the houses of 
 private friends, or escape from the town in the night. The other dis- 
 senters were in terror, and dare not appear in the streets. All the shops 
 were closed, and the people flocked to the scenes of violence. I 
 transcribe these recollections from a memory faithful to its first im- 
 pressions amid such disorders, when no interest could bias, and np 
 influence corrupt its integrity. 
 
 The first act of the great poKtical drama of the age — ^the conflict of 
 democracy with monarchy and privileged classes — commenced with the 
 memorable storming of the Bastile, in Paais, a very few years after the 
 close of the American war. The progress of this drama stUl continues 
 aHke in peace and in war : in the former it takes the form or character 
 of agitation. 
 
 The meeting of the Presbyterians at the hotel in Birmingham, 
 which led to the riots, was held to commemorate the anniversary .of the 
 destruction of the Bastile, a descriptive sketch of which is subjoined, — 
 and which exjiibits a three day's carnival of the Oh\irch and King mob. 
 
After smasMng tlie -windows of tlie hotel, and dispersing the 
 meeting there, the moh went direct against their chapels. It was 
 known early in the morning that Dr. Priestley's house was on fire, and 
 that he had escaped. I went off with some boys about my own age to 
 see the doctor's house. Some of my companions remarked that Dr. 
 Priestley denied Jesus Christ, others said the riot was foretold in the 
 Bible, and the time was come when there was to be no more kings. 
 When we got into Deritend we met a number of people carrying away 
 all sorts of house furniture with the same impunity as though they had 
 bought them at a sale. Dr. Priestley's house was about two miles 
 from the town, on the road leading by or to Spark Brook and to Henley- 
 in-Arden. We entered the premises by a shrubbery, which soon 
 brought us to the house, then in one fierce flame. A dead man lay at 
 the corner, with blood on his face, who, it was said, was killed by a 
 large corner-stone of the building faUing on him. A large stack of coal, 
 containing many tons, had been set on fire, and was full lighted, throwing 
 out a most intense heat. The doctor's laboratory was a separate build- 
 ing, on one side of the house, approached by a stair flight. Tho 
 windows seemed to be continuous on two sides. They were knocked 
 out, and a number of men were throwing out his apparatus, consisting 
 mainly of glass, in a great variety of forms, — ^tubes, jars, retorts, and 
 other things, which lay m one smash on the sides. We went up for a 
 moment or two, and heard some persons say that '• The doctor dealt 
 
 with the !" I picked up one small bottle of quicksilver, which 
 
 consisted of aU my plunder. 
 
 I returned with my little squad of companions, from the spot 
 rendered classical by science, to Birmingham. After some refreshment, 
 we proceeded up the town. On reaching the end of New-street, opposite 
 to which was the paper warehouse of Mr. Hutton, we found a great 
 number of people. The paper warehouse had been gutted, and some 
 scores of reams of paper opened and thrown into the streets, so that 
 it was said at one time the masses of the people were walking over fine 
 writing papers. Near to the spot was the coach entrance to the Swan 
 Inn, and near the Fountain Inn. From the latter some dozen tubs of 
 ale were brought out, and placed in the street, with clothes-baskets of 
 little black cups for the mob to drink with. We saw many, after 
 drinking their cups, throw them over the heads of the crowd. Hutton 
 states the heavy sum he was charged for ftiis ale, designed, as stated, to 
 
divert the mob from fortlier mischief, but practically for encouraging 
 them in their work. He denies any order given by him or his friends. 
 
 Baskerville-house -was now on fire : the noble BaskerviUe type is 
 well known. BaskerviUe was buried in his own garden. In 1821 he 
 was dug up, and the coffin opened, when the corpse was said to have 
 the odour of old cheese. 
 
 As Baskerville-house became the battle-field of the mob and some 
 special constables, I will give it ia another letter. 
 
 Baskerville-house and grounds are situated in an angle at the en- 
 trance of the town of Birmingham, on one of the two great roads leading 
 to the Five Ways. The entrance was by large gates in the angle, and 
 in going towards the town, having a high wall on the right, separating 
 the great coal-wharf of the place, and Easy-row on the left. I am 
 speaking of things as they were at the period in question. I am not 
 familiar with any of the great modern changes in that direction. I 
 believe that I had only one yoimg companion that day. We found the 
 house in a burning mass after the pillage, and went round by the out- 
 houses, which were not fired. In one of the stables I took a few oats 
 for my rabbits, out of a corn-coffer. This was my second small felony. 
 In going round the premises we saw some men coming out of a forced 
 cellar window, and others going in. In the spirit of adventure we went 
 after them, and had to drop several feet to the floor. We could see men 
 in a dim twilight moving about, and calling for "red port." It was the 
 wine cellar. They had to break off the necks of the bottles to get to the 
 wine, and the mouths of some were bleeding. When the wines were 
 not to their taste they dashed them to the floor, and away went, probably, 
 champagne, claret, burgundy, and, probably, hock and imperial tokay. 
 We did not want wiaes, and some men had to give us a Hft in getting 
 out agaia. It is well we were thus fortunate, for in some few hours 
 afterwards the cellars fell in, and the adventurers were buried in the 
 ruins ; six or seven were dug out some days afterwards. 
 
 When once more ia the straggling crowd, we heard a cry of the 
 "constables coming!" Away fled the women and children. We got 
 lifted on the wharf wall, near the gates. A crowd was seen coming up 
 with a procession. As they advanced to the gates I was struck with the 
 contrast. Several of the leaders wore spectacles, and nearly aU wore 
 hair-powder and appeared to be gentlemen. They boldly entered the 
 gates, and in a few minutes the mob had a set-to with them. The 
 
specials were armed with short staffs, wMch, as it appeared afterwards, 
 
 were the rollers used in drapers' shops, which silks and other fabrics 
 
 are wound on ; the mob were unarmed, but excited with liquor. The 
 
 struggle was short and summary, and in less than fire minutes the all 
 
 body of the specials came running back ; we saw the hair-powder beaten 
 
 out of ther heads in clouds. It was an entire rout. Some more 
 
 courageous than the rest led in hot pursuit, and the inf<mtry rallied on 
 
 their flanks. Nothing but speed and distance saved them. The mob 
 
 then drew the covers of the shrubberies, and every now and then some 
 
 white-nob was unearthed, and had to run the gauntlet of every mJBsile 
 
 that could be laid hold of. John BuU of that day seemed to consider 
 
 himself the champion of the Holy Scriptures and the Monarchy. The 
 
 routed gentlemen were everywhere received with 
 
 One dismal universal hisa 
 The sound of putlic scorn. 
 
 I have two more places briefly to sketch. It was known that 
 Squire Taylor's and Mr. Humphrey's houses were marked for sack, if 
 not for fire. We went to the former, which is situated on the rising 
 ground on the road leading out of Deritend to Coventry. It was, I 
 think, wholly or partly waUed in from the road. "We entered the land 
 through some shrubs, and coming in front, were struck with what 
 resembled a flight of snow. The place had been pillaged ; but some 
 men in the bedchambers, not knowing what to do with the beds, tore 
 them open, and threw the feathers out at the windows by armfuls, 
 which a gentle wind scattered abroad. We entered the house, and saw 
 people piling up broken furniture in a large room to make a fire. We 
 went up stairs, and saw, in one room, a man and woman (who had dis- 
 covered a gentleman's wardrobe) rigging themselves out.^The man had 
 put on as many pairs of breeches as he could get into, and put on as 
 many waistcoats as the Grmedigger, in "Hamlet," pulls off. A relay 
 of coats was placed round him. The woman was putting on stockings, 
 one pair after the other, — silk on cotton, and cotton on silk. We saw 
 them afterwards, waddling away like two bales of goods. Down stairs 
 we left women and boys piling up things for the fire, which we did not 
 stop to see lighted. The noble residence was afterwards given to the 
 flames, and the ruin remained a number of years, as a monument of 
 the disgrace of the town. 
 
 We then strayed on to the house of Squire Humphreys. I am not 
 clear as to the site of this house ; but I have some notion it was on the 
 
same road as that of Dr. Priestley, and on the opposite side of the road. 
 Out Tisit was short and sweet, for we got among a numher of lads in a 
 store-room, amid jams and jellies, where I took my ration ; and this 
 was my third felonious act. We saw several boys cram jam into their 
 pockets, and others smeared their faces in the fun. We might have 
 exclaimed jam satis, without going further with the Eoman hard. We 
 saw little of the house, which had heen gutted, but not burnt. There 
 was a fine staircase of stone or marble, the rails of which had been 
 torn down, and the steps defaced as with hammers or iron bars. As 
 far as I recollect this house escaped the flames. 
 
 I have a short sketch to give of my visit to Moseley, the next day, 
 in connexion with an anecdote and visit to the place in the summer 
 of 1857. 
 
 [The above letter, as weU as that which preceded it, on the same 
 subject, appeared in the Liverpool Alhion.] 
 
 The reaction on the public mind after these events was slow but 
 sure, as the costs to the Hundred were between thirty and forty 
 thousand pounds, spread over three years. 
 
 At an early age, I went with a young companion into the back 
 parlour of the Ship Inn, HiU-street, where there were four men ; — Mr. 
 Kilminster, a schoolmaster ; Mr. Onions, an upholster ; and two young 
 men, WiUiam and Charles Hoare, highly respectable and intelligent. 
 The Deritend Blacksmith, a furious revolutionist, was expected but did 
 not come ; there was some singing of "Liberty Songs," in one of which 
 very popular, was the following chorus : — 
 
 We'd sooner pluck tlie berry-bush, and ait the silyer tide 
 Than ever be subservient to a tyrant's pride. 
 
 After this several associations were formed; one at the "Johnson's 
 Head," and another at some Inn, in "Dale End," called the "Optional." 
 It was at this time that Eoscoe wrote his beautiful song ; 
 O'er the Tine-covered hills and gay regions of France 
 See the day-star of liberty rise. 
 
 iBurke, alone, saw through this luminous haze, and pronounced the 
 "day-Star" of the new era, supposed to be dawning on mankind — ^a 
 Mock Sun. Parr wrote his Spital Sermon about this time. 
 
 The arrival of Binns and Jones in Birmingham, as delegates of the 
 "London Correspondent Society," gave a new impetus to liberal 
 opinions ; they lectured in dififerent pubUe-houses. Binns, who gave 
 a lecture at a public-house, Suffolk-street, which I attended with a note- 
 
8 
 
 book, urged the necessity of preserving the sacred right of trial by 
 jury, a subject which at that time excited a good deal of interest, — a 
 "right" which he said must be defended "at the hazard of extermin- 
 ation." He also went into the question of Reform at the same time. 
 When the prosecution commenced I was examined as to my notes, and 
 subpoened on the trial at Warwick. This subject is referred to in an 
 article elsewhere. 
 
 The manner and appearance of the delegates excited some interest 
 from the novelty of them ; they usually walked arm ia arm, which was 
 considered effeminate and rediculous, as it was a familiarity unknown 
 at that .time amongst the gentlemen of that town. At that period 
 gentlemen usually wore their hair long behiad, but the "delegates" 
 had their hair cropped close to their necks, while their followers adopted 
 these peculiarities, and were called the " Jacobin Crops." They also 
 wore shoe-strings which were an abomination to the "buckle ticklers." 
 Gentlemen who were strangers ia the town were often pelted in the 
 streets for this offence. 
 
 Birmingham made very slow advances in Journalism ; Swinney's 
 old Thursday's paper, edited by Mr. Collins — a wit in song and 
 epigram — under the non de-plume of " Brush," was racy of the old "toy- 
 shop." At one time, finding that the presence of advertisements was 
 necessary to a great sale, it adopted the policy of copying them Jrom the 
 always respectable Gazette, and inserting them gratuitously, at a cost 
 of three shiUings and sixpence duty each insertion ; this ruinous policy 
 was soon dropt. 
 
 The first attempt at a third paper ia Birmingham, was made by a 
 Mr. Jabet, residing at the corner house, at the bottom of Moor-street, 
 Printer, and Stationer; it was edited by a Mr. Lawrence, a highly re- 
 spectable Veterinarian and a man of talent. 
 
 Iremember the Birmingham Journal being started by a distinguished 
 tory solicitor ; after which it has passed through many hands. At one 
 time it was possessed by a respectable Printer residing at the bottom of 
 Spiceall-street— now SpiceaU-street no more. The celebrated George 
 Dawson was connected with it for a time, but it had a hard task to 
 make its way against the "Midland Counties Herald,'-' distributed 
 gratuitously among land agents, soHcitors, auctioneers, and public 
 rooms. It laboured through these difficulties, and is now second to 
 none in circulation and talent, with a weekly "London Letter," dis- 
 
tinguished by slirewd observation, wit, and research, and tbe scattered 
 knowledge of a -well read-up writer. There have been several other 
 attempts made "which came like shadows" and so departed ;" including 
 the Tory "Advertiser." 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 Loiroosr Daily Papees, which have Eisen aud ooifE Down within 
 THE Pkesent Centubt. — Oharles Mathews, Comedian. — Mr. 
 Coi^EiDGE. — Case of Libel, at Hanlet, in the Pottekies. 
 
 ^HE first act of Mr. Pox, when the whigs came into power was, to start 
 a ministerial Evening Paper, entitled "The Statesman," which 
 was sent gratuitously to most of the County Journals ; the writer re- 
 ceived it as such during the life of Mr. Fox. It was well edited and 
 generally read. 
 
 One incident which occurred to Mr. Fox as Foreign Secretary was, 
 the landing of a Frenchman in England, who sought an interview with 
 him on a special mission ; he was admitted, and the object of his mission 
 was stated to be as follows: — it was his intention to return to France 
 for the purpose of assassinating Napoleon. Mr. Fox, in his own 
 language said, that at first he "did him the honour to consider him a 
 spy ;" he ordered him to be detained while he wrote to Napoleon, to in- 
 form him of the fact, and said, that our laws did not permit us to 
 punish him, that he should detain him for a short time, and then ship 
 him off from this country to a distant port on the Continent. Napoleon 
 wrote through Talleyrand to thank Mr. Fox for his very honourable 
 conduct. 
 
 A kind of cofiee-cup correspondence followed on the preliminaries 
 of a peace. Napoleon required England to separate herself from an 
 aUiance with Russia. Mr. Fox refused so to do, and that incipient 
 
 B 
 
10 
 
 treaty broke down. The Tories said of the Whigs, that they "came m 
 tinder the hruah of the/oa;, and bore the odour only of his baser parts." 
 The foreign incident with Napoleon proved Fox to be an honourable 
 and sound hearted Englishman, fearless of his foe and faithful to allies. 
 The Whigs were then called — or called themselves — "All the taUents" 
 and also the "Broad bottomed administration." 
 
 Lord Henry Pettey, now the Marquis of Landsdown, was CJhanceUor 
 of the Exchequer, and one of the gay spirits of the salons and fashion- 
 able balls. It was said, that he introduced some "new steps" in the 
 dance, of course not counting his long stride in the Income Tax. 
 
 When the Whigs went out they were twitted with strange things — 
 among others, that, of having sent Admiral Duckworth with a fleet to 
 force the passage of the Dardanelles and bombard Constantinople, 
 without an adequate supply of gunpowder — a very improbable event. 
 After the reign of the Whigs the " Statesman" got into weak hands, 
 the editor continually dwelling on the "Poor Tailor of the Courier;" 
 the writer never remembers any "taUor'' connected with the Coujier : 
 Sttjaet was a rich man, and Street a high spirited and independent 
 gentleman ; a great favourite of the Prince Eegent, and a personal 
 friend of Madame Oatalani. A few years afterwards the "Statesman" 
 went down. The last gentleman who had it started a Sunday Paper, 
 called the "Constitution," which soon went down also, and the pro- 
 prietor contrived to get into Newgate. The writer remembers something 
 about an Evening Paper called the "Pilot," but recollects little of it. 
 
 About the same time another Evening Paper, called the 
 "Hampden" — immediately before or after the "Pilot" — had a short 
 existence. The next Evening Paper that I recollect was, the "True 
 Briton," the principal supporter of wliich was. Lord Kenyon; the 
 writer quoted a patriotic article from it and sent the Editor the paper ; 
 he received a letter soon afterwards from the managing committee 
 thanking him for his handsome notice of it. At the close and winding 
 up of the concern there was a great deficiency, and no responsible 
 parties but Lord Kenyon, who was sued for the same, who resisted the 
 demand, and the case went before the court. His lordship's plea was, 
 that he had made a distinct declaration that he would derive no benefit 
 from the concern. It appeared, however, that his "declaration" stated 
 that he would dispense with all ^jroflts coming to him in objects of 
 
n 
 
 charity. The Judge ruled, that "this is only another form of pecuniary 
 interest ;" his lotdship had to pay a considerable sum. 
 
 The British Press in connection with the "Globe" -was discon- 
 tinued, and the "Star" also. The Morning Paper, called the "Day" 
 was commenced, but had a short existence — ^like the day of St. Thomas. 
 The "New Times" was commenced, edited by "Dr. Slop," as William 
 Hone styled him, but the contents of this slop-pail in Hone's language, 
 was soon emptied. 
 
 I do not pretend to name these papers consecutively. The "New 
 Sun," or rather planetary light, rose and set, or bolted from the course, 
 in the Hugo of the turf, or with mathematicians, flew off in a tangent 
 from its orbit. 
 
 The "Morning Journal" was started by Mr. Alexander, who was 
 prosecuted by the Duke of "Wellington. I received a list of donations 
 for his relief, and gave it three gratuitous insertions, when a few sums 
 were added. Mr. Alexander afterwards became editor of the ' ' Liver- 
 pool MaU," and is since deceased. 
 
 At the beginning of 1829, Silk Buckingham started the " Ajgus," 
 and sent me down some posters to get put up in Lincoln. The "Argus " 
 if I remember right, was intended to be "daily." I received the first 
 number and remember the following passage : — ^He called on the 
 government to "admit the Eoman Catholics to enter the portals of the, 
 constitution with gratulations and rejoicings, and not wait till they 
 entered with shouts of triump." 
 
 The last Daily Journal that rose and went down, was that of the 
 "Albion" Evening Paper. It was said to have been suggested by the 
 Duke of Wellington when he quarrelled with the "Standard," out of 
 respect to the P. M. I sent it some gratuitous communications ; among 
 these was a brief report of that memorable speech of the late Sir Eobt. 
 Peel, which brought forward the "Three Tailors of Tooley-street," and 
 which was the first report of that speech published in the London 
 Papers. They were represented as holding a national council on the 
 shop-board, and issuing an address, commencing with "We the people 
 of England, &c." Three tailors being only the third part of a man — 
 according to the old joke — this was the first revolutionary dream of the 
 monarchy of a thousand years being beaten down by a vulgar fraction 
 of humanity. 
 
12 
 
 When I. was a literary contributor to Oowdroy's Manchester 
 Gazette, the first liberal paper published in that town in opposition to 
 Wheeler's Advertiser, it would be curious if I could now compare those 
 two papers with the "Manchester Guardian" and the "Manchester 
 Examiner and Times," or Dr. Solomon's daily Liverpool paper, with 
 the present "Daily Post." The Liverpool Mercury, pubhshed by 
 Egerton Smith, came at a lucky time. The "Courier" of Liverpool 
 started, it followed ia the wake of the London "Courier," which was 
 then in its palmy days. 
 
 Mr. Murray's "Eepresentative" had but a short life. My memory 
 may fail me in some of these details, but I believe that was the last till 
 the "Daily News" started, which continues to prosper. 
 
 At the latter end of the last century, the "Star" was the prevailing 
 evening paper till the "Courier," early in this century, aided by the 
 talent of Coleridge and the fiery patriotism of Street, left it far in the 
 rear. 
 
 The first periodical with which I was connected, was, a neat Pocket 
 Magazine, entitled the "Monthly Visitor," and I was announced as a 
 contributor in the first number. I wrote one tale in it, but have for- 
 gotten the very name of it. I wrote some papers in the "Monthly 
 Mirror," on Vernon, a Wolverhampton poet, who published a volume of 
 verses, and who enlisted as a soldier and died in the service of his 
 country ; — in taking leave of his country in his preface, anticipating a 
 glorious immortality from his work, he exclaimed, non omnis nwriar. 
 
 From this period my political Ufa merged, principally, in the 
 " Staffordshire Advertiser," after, a few strictures in a small London 
 quarto Paper — name forgotten. 
 
 THE LATE CHARLES MATHEWS— COMEDIAN. 
 In the cholera year of 1831, Mathews played a few nights in 
 Lincoln, and on one leisure night he spent an evening with me, in com- 
 pany with Mr. Eobertson, at the "Water-side ;" he lived entirely then 
 upon mutton-chops and brandy and water. After a few glasses, 
 Charlemagne came out and gave us some amusing incidents ; he said, 
 in his early youth his father was a strict "methodist," that is, when 
 the methodists were hooted at and pelted in going to their preaching 
 
13 
 
 places. Young Matlie-ws used to cleneli his fist as lie -went to chapel 
 along -with his father, and said to himself, "I shall have to see you aU 
 frizzling in brimstone." 
 
 He named having once imitated "Wfilk^s — of political notoriety — 
 before the Prince Regent, Tvho said, "the performance was inimitable ; 
 this would tend to prove, that both the Prince and the mimio "were in 
 very early youth, close observers of manners in men. 
 
 Mathews was personally acquainted with the Polish nobleman. 
 
 Count , a dwarf, and, after great difficulty, procured the consent of 
 
 the Prince Eegent to receive the Count at an interview ; Mathews took 
 his little friend with him in a carriage, who was received by his royal 
 Highness with all the courteous familiarity of a nobleman. Mathews 
 remained with them during the interview; he described the contrast of 
 the two persons — one, the representative of a great empire, tall and 
 portly ; the other, a fraction, in size of one of the thousands of Polish 
 nobles. He described their intercourse as a soene partaldng of all the 
 gravity of apolitical conference, asbetween persons of equal consideration. 
 
 The Prince had procured a small ^old watch, which he presented to 
 the Count — the minig,ture of a watch to the abridgement of a man ! On 
 their return, the Count was overjoyed at his reception, and when in the 
 carriage, held the watch in his hand and cried like. a child, saying, that 
 " it was the first time he ever was treated as a nobleman." 
 
 It was some time after this that the writer wrote to Mr. Robertson 
 to procure Tiitti an autograph of Mathews, and in reply, a few days 
 afterwards, enclosed the writer a note from the Comedian, which is of 
 no further importance than proving how readily the Comedian seized on 
 any subject to convert it into caricature. 
 
 MR. COLERIDGE. 
 
 [While editing the "Rifleman," a folio Sunday paper, selhng at eight- 
 pence half-penny, I attended a lecture given by Mr. Coleridge, at 
 a room in Fetter Lane, and I now copy from the above paper, in 
 the year 1812, the- following sketch of the address.] 
 This gentleman's course of lectures on Shakespeare is drawing to-- 
 
 wards a close, and the town wiU be speedily deprived of one of the most 
 
14 
 
 inteUectual treats wHch it has experienced for a number of years. These 
 lectures, thougli, in a select circle, weU supported, have not been 
 attended with that degree of success which ought, perhaps, to have been 
 expected from so enlightened a city as the capital of Great Britam. But 
 there are some considerations which wiU qualify any charge of apparent 
 deficiency of the public taste. The present course is given in the city, 
 and in tU winter; a time when snow, and rain, and dirt, and fogs, 
 muster such an advanced guard of uncomfortable enemies to London 
 life, that the citizen is content to encounter the privations of mind, with 
 the fire-side weapons of cards and tobacco. "Fetter Lane," where, 
 during the winter months, the sun is "invisible, or dimly seen," has no 
 inviting sound to the deUoate ears of the west end of the town. The 
 literati there, considered, perhaps, that the lecturer ought to have come 
 "betwixt the smoke and their nobility."' 
 
 We have always been aware that a man of Mr. Coleridge's peculiar 
 powers of mind, could never in a lecture, do himself anything like 
 justice. So refining and multifarious are his habits of thought, that he 
 cannot subject even his pen to any order or arrangement in his subject. 
 In his writings we find him constantly changing his course, to catch the 
 interesting impulse of some new thought, elicited from, or crossing his 
 subject. There is only one thing in him that is certain, and that is, 
 though his subject should he phi/sies, a metaphi/sioal conclusion. It is 
 his governing teiidency, and beats him out of that which is simple into 
 that which is complex ; from individualities to generalities, in defiance 
 of himself. 
 
 There is another peculiarity in biTn which ought to be particularised, 
 and which seems to be an Ulustration of the affinity that is said to exist 
 in extremes. If he begins on any one particular passion or principle, 
 he commonly works about it, from some strange and incomprehensible 
 impetus, tiU he involves himself in a mass of nebulous matter, that is as 
 remote from the nature of his text as possible ! A great portion of one 
 of his lectures, on the passion of love (as exemplified in Juliet J consisted 
 of a decomposition of the character of the nurse ; a most masterly deli- 
 neation of the characteristics of garrulous age ; and of contrasted powers 
 and habits of memory, in educated and uneducated minds. He pursued 
 this mining enquiry tUl love was lost in the boundless wilds of thought ; 
 and Shakespeare himself disappeared in the ocean of human nature. 
 But all these things are rather a proof of Mr. Coleridge's powers of mind 
 
15 
 
 tlian any thing else. If the femEde part o£ his audience be sometimes 
 disappointed, they are sometimes as agreeably surprised. For a cross 
 wind and current of thought and feeling, will frequently drive the 
 lecturer from the most rugged and masculine philosophy, into the cahn 
 and captivating confines of the circle of the affections, and the influences 
 of the heart. — Riflemcm. 
 
 CASE OF LIBEL. 
 
 In the year 1822, after several joint-stock attempts had been made 
 to establish a newspaper in the Staffordshire Potteries, I commenced one 
 on my own resources, asking no aid "of wind or tide," patronage or 
 piu-se; writing free political strictures apart from partisansl^p. The 
 dissenters in that district — Hanley — were the predominant inhabitants 
 of the place ; I failed to conciliate them ; I w'as called upon to cry down 
 all theatrical representations, &c., by different anonymous writers. I 
 defended the amusements of the people as the inheritance of the people, 
 to which they had as great a right as the dissenters to the free use of 
 their chapels. An opposition paper was started ; criminations and re- 
 criminations were bandied about, — dissenters against churchmen, and 
 churchmen against dissenters. The dominant sect in Hanley were the 
 Methodist New Conneadon, which was originated in the Potteries by a 
 Mr. Kilham, which sect admitted their laity into the annual conferences. 
 
 Having heard of a particular offence committed by one of this sect, 
 (as all large communities of religion are liable to alSuse), I stated that 
 they were capable of committing acts of adultery in their own chapels. 
 Two very respectable naanufaoturers, whose characters were far above 
 all suspicion, as well as crime, chose to apply this passage personally 
 tc) themselves, and secured similar opinions of the passage from a few 
 of their personal friends. I was therefore indicted for a scandalous and 
 malicious libel. The case was tried at Stafford. Mr. Jervis, the leading 
 counsel for the defendant, declined to eaU any witnesses for the defence, 
 stating that the imputed libel charged no one, but spread over a 
 numerous community, a charge as he stated, 
 
 WMch as a wild goose flies, 
 Unclaiin'd of any man. . 
 
 In the absence of witnesses for the defence, the jury did not concur in 
 this view of the case, and returned a verdict of "guilty." I had to take 
 
16 
 
 two gentlemen, a distance of eight miles to give security for my personal 
 appearance on the floor of the King's Bench, to receive the sentence of 
 the court. Such was the administration of justice in the Potteries at 
 that period. I attended accordingly; the presiding judges were, 
 Mr. Justice Bailey, Mr. Justice Littledale, and another. 
 
 Mr. Sergeant Ludlow, for the defendant, applied to the court for 
 permission to read certain affidavits. Mr. Campbell, for the prosecution 
 objected, but the objection was over-ruled. After a short affidavit made 
 by the defendant, aboiit ten others were read — ^which were made by 
 persons of very opposite opinions in polities and religion ; by bankers, 
 respectable manufacturers, clergymen of the church of England, and 
 dissenting ministers. These affidavits stated generally, that the de- 
 fendant had conducted his paper with commendable moderation until 
 hostihlies arose ; they never for a moment believed that the offensive 
 passages applied, or could, apply to the prosecutors. The case was then 
 mainly disposed of by the affidavit of the overseer of the parish, which 
 stated that a workman was summoned before the parish authorities, for 
 refusing to support his wife ; his defence was, that she had infected him 
 with a disgraceful disease, and he charged her so severely with the 
 illicit connections, that she at length confessed to having been seduced 
 into an act of adultery in one of the large pews of the chapel. This 
 affidavit disposed of the main question. Mr. Justice Bailey delivered 
 the sentence ; after noticing the general good character of the paper, 
 and the affidavits said there was a charge of duplicity which had not 
 been replied to, and as the verdict of the jury must be expected, he 
 named a small fine, which was immediately paid, and the defendant was 
 liberated. 
 
 The bells of Hanley church rang a merry peal as the defendant 
 entered the town, it having been rumoured that he would be heavily 
 fined and imprisoned. 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 Second ahd Third case of Libei,. — Contest of Taitwoeth Election. 
 The Eepoetee. — Comjeidge, Chaeies Lamb, and Eobeet TTat.t, . 
 The Rifleman. — "RrR.wnsr mrAM . 
 
 } H 1 1 lE I was in London, a second case of libel occurred. A 
 respectable solicitor, not named here, obtained a rule nici 
 agaiast a lawyer, of the name of Jones, calling upon him to show cause 
 why he should not be struck off the rolls ; he cut out a small report of 
 the case from the JVew Times, and sent it to my office for insertion in the 
 paper, which was inserted accordingly, word for word as the copy, but 
 he underscored one word, to be put in italics. Jones applied for the 
 name of the person who sent the report. After the usual consultation, 
 with correspondence, I waited on the soKeitor, named the demand of 
 Jones, observing that it was properly a case of the liberty of the press, 
 and that I had better try it than him, for if Jones obtained a verdict, 
 he would turn round on the printer. The solicitor, said, under some 
 religious impressions he could not consent to my standing in his shoes ; 
 I was obliged, therefore, to send him his name, and the action was 
 brought. "Whether this gentleman found great difficulty in the 
 support of his rule, or shrunk from contending with a desperate 
 practitioner, the case preyed on his mind and distressed him; he 
 attempted the rash act of suicide, not however fatally ; he was discovered, 
 and placed under surgical treatment, with an impaired voice. To re- 
 
 
 
18 
 
 lieve him from further anxiety. His friends compromised the case with 
 Jones for a considerable stun of money; Jones then brought his action 
 against the printer. 
 
 Jones, attorney v. Amphlett. 
 
 I knew something of the man, and his swearing establishment of 
 clerks and cads, who would make oath that I had ruined his professional 
 business, &c. I had witnesses who knew him personally well, and 
 often met him ia public company ; two of them deposed, that they had 
 
 frequently heard him say, that he would not give a "d for a clerk 
 
 who would not swear that a coach and four was a hen and chickens." 
 This essentially disposed of the case. The Judge ia his summary, re- 
 marked, that the liberty of the press required the privilege of reporting 
 the short cases, and that the placing of one word ia italics cotdd not 
 alter the meaning of the sentence. The jury, without turning round, 
 found a verdict for the defendant. 
 
 Jones tried to obtain a new trial, but never proceeded ia it ; he was 
 a man of straw, and I had to sustain the expense of the trial. The 
 solicitor liberally remitted to me about one-half of the sum. 
 
 THIRD CASE OF LIBEL. 
 
 The Honourable (?) James Stamp Sutton Coolie v. Amphlett. 
 
 This self-styled Honourable Mr. Stamp, was the brother of Stafford 
 Cooke, who put in the claim to the Barony of Stafford, and the Jerningham 
 estate, in and round the Borough of Stafford. Mr. Stamp was the 
 battle horse of his brother. The claim had been agitated ia the cotirts, 
 and set forth so long a hue of ancestry, that as one of the counsel said, 
 Adam was only in the middle of it. Having failed in the courts, Mr. 
 Stamp brought down to Stafford a staff of needy lawyers, and set them 
 all to work ; he issued writs of ejectment against all the tenant farmers, 
 &c., and proceeded to cut down timber and appoint gamekeepers, &o., 
 throwing all the town and neighbourhood iato the most "admired dis- 
 order." I happened to be in. Stafford about the time, and met one of the 
 county members, who observed to me that the county paper was timid 
 ia attacking the imposter ; he suggested that I might take the subject 
 up in my paper, at Hanley, which circulated ia the town of Stafford. 
 
19 
 
 After a consultation -with Mr. Seckerston, the solicitor of the 
 Jemingham fandly, I accordingly proceeded, -week after week, to de- 
 nounce and expose the imposter ; branding Tn'm -with the charge of heing 
 an old gambling black-leg of the turf, and a swindler, &c. This so 
 annoyed him, that he got Jones, the lawyer, to bring an action against 
 me for a Kbel ; he got it removed into the jurisdiction of Derbyshire, on 
 the plea, that I had raised such an outcry against him, that he would 
 not have a fair trial in Staffordshire. The case came on at the next 
 Derbyshire assizes, before a special jury. Jones retaiaed N. G. Clarke, 
 Esq., as leading counsel ; I employed Mr. Vaughan, — afterwards Mr. 
 Justice Yaughan — and another in the defence ; we put forth special 
 pleas of justification. Mr. Vaughan then proceeded to say that we had 
 called him a chevalier d'inditstrie, and admitted that the translation of 
 the French meant a swindler ; — our witnesses proved this fact, — and 
 also, that he had been tried and convicted of the offence of bigamy, and 
 read the record of his conviction at the Old Bailey. This so amused the 
 spectators, that Mr. Clarke appealed to the Judge against being laughed 
 out of court. The judge, Baron Garrow, said, that "he knew not how to 
 interfere, for he could not help laughing himself." 
 
 In a brief summary of the evidence, the Judge referred to the clear 
 proof of the special pleas of justification, except one charge referring to 
 a fraud on the Continent, very difficult of proof; and, if they found for 
 the plaintiff on that charge, they would probably lament that they 
 lived in a country where there was not a smaller coin than a farthing. 
 The jury, then, without turning round, found a verdict for the 
 defendant. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, whose eloquence I remember at "Warwick, and 
 after the record of the conviction at the Old Bailey, said, "There Sir, is 
 the claim of this pretender to the Barony of Stafford : — James Stamp 
 Sutton Cooke, and a pretty stamp it has upon it ; he was not half a 
 gentleman tiU we stamped felon on his scutcheon of pifetence." 
 
 Here the case ended; it literally exploded, and we never heard 
 any thing more of the sham Lord. After my consultation with the 
 solicitor of the family, the case was in the hands of their London 
 solicitor, who undertook all the expenses of the prosecution. Mr. Stamp 
 Sutton Cooke and his brother, with his paper coronet, were men of 
 straw. I reported the case for my own paper, which was copied and 
 printed in London, by order of the London solicitor. 
 
20 
 CONTEST OF TAMWOETH ELECTION. 1820. 
 
 The riot and violence at the Tamworth election, between Mr Peel 
 and Lord Charles Townsend, in 1820, led to another action brought 
 against the writer by Sir Eobt. Peel, which was afterwards withdrawn 
 tinder the following circumstances. 
 
 Sir Robert Peel v. AmpMett. 
 
 A violent correspondence arose between the different friends of both 
 parties, and both exercised the liberty of the press. A gentleman of 
 landed estate, and living near the town, wrote several letters on the 
 conduct of Sir Robert Peel, in one of which, signed Justus or PMh 
 Justus, he imputed dishonesty to Sir Robert Peel in relation to the 
 failure of the Tamworth bank. Sir Robert applied to the editor for the 
 name of the writer ; the editor had the usual consultation with the 
 writer, and was especially requested not to give in the name until after 
 a short period had elapsed, a promise which he incautiously gave, and the 
 action was brought against the printer ; the editor soon afterwards dis- 
 covered that during this interval, the writer of the offensive letter was 
 proceeding against one of the sons of Sir Robert Peel, for a constructive 
 assault, by shaldng^a whip over him as he was going to church with his 
 daughter, and telling him to consider himself well horse-whipped. 
 What the result of this action was I do not know, but suppose it was 
 some fine laid on Mr. Peel. 
 
 The above action being at an end, and the time arrived for the 
 author of the' letter to give up his name, the editor applied for his per- 
 mission so to do ; his application was met with delays, in equivocations ; 
 a definitive reply was then required, which also was not answered. 
 The editor then wrote to Sir Robt. Peel, stating that he was prepared 
 to give up the name of the writer of the offensive letter. Sir Robert 
 Peel then sent an express messenger to Lichfield, desiriag the editor 
 woidd take a chaise, and go over to Drayton Manor ; which he did. 
 Accordingly, he was introduced by Sir Robert Peel to Mr. Dawson and 
 his solicitor; to the latter of whom he was well known. Mr. Dawson, 
 the son-ia-law of Sir Robert Peel, and a gentleman well known, 
 was to act as the editor's friend, to the effect, that if there was no 
 satisfactory result ia the interview, no advantage should be taken. The 
 letters were then given up and read, and compared with the letters in 
 the newspaper, by Mr. WiUington, who declared them to be all in the 
 
21 
 
 hand-writing of the gentleman suspected. Sir Eobert then ordered 
 legal proceedings to be withdrawn against the editor and taken against 
 the writer. 
 
 The case was tried in London, and Sir James Scarlett retained for 
 the prosecution. He made a speech of extraordinary severity against 
 the writer of the letter, not forgetting his conduct against the printer. 
 The verdict was against the defendant, with a heavy fine and three 
 months' imprisonment. The editor, on parting with Sir Eobert Peel, 
 at Drayton, was told by the worthy Baronet, that he never believed in 
 the editor being the writer of the letter, though other persons did ; he 
 shook hands with the editor kindly, who was then proceeding to Bir- 
 mingham, and made this memorable observation : "You will live to see 
 Birmingham and all the large towns return members to Parliament." 
 
 This was in the year 1820. Awful old tory as he was, he was a 
 far seeing man, and charitable beyond aU other men in the contri- 
 butions ; for many thousands of starving workmen, in the manufacturing 
 districts, received £500 from him, when Peers gave their £100 each. 
 His confidence in his country at the mutiny of the Nore, and his con- 
 tributions to the patriotic fund, will be long remembered. It was well 
 said of hiTTi that "he was a man whom wealth could not honour, but 
 who honoured wealth." 
 
 THE EEPOETEE. 
 
 The reporter was a stranger in this part of the kingdom, when I 
 first took my note-book and seat amongst the barristers in the Crown 
 court, at Stafford assizes. The counsel engaged, kindly forwarded me 
 their names, and the clerk of the arraigns, another ofElcer of the court. 
 I procured Mr. Bennet, the solicitor of Penkeridge, to give an account 
 of the proceedings in the other court. About this time there was a 
 single election of Lord Leveson Gower, for the county ; I reported the 
 proceediags of that meeting ; these reports gave a new feature, and a 
 new interest to the county paper. I, continued to write free strictures 
 on the public measures, and the conduct of public men, without refer- 
 ence to parties. Collins and Keen, solicitors, purchased one-half, and, 
 afterwards, the whole of the copy-right of the Staffordshire Advertiser. 
 
 My writings were too liberal for the tories, who started a Pottery 
 paper, in which, the well known Mr. Gifford wrote the leaders, in London, 
 
22 
 
 at two gmneas a -week ; taMng advantage of a literal error, I referred 
 to it obscurely, in a note to a correspondent. Some curious person dis- 
 covered the error, and it became a subject of remark in private circles ; 
 such was the commotion, that a great number of persons sent in their 
 orders for the paper to be stopped. This paper was soon discontinued, 
 HteraUy snuffed out, not by an article, but by a verbal error ; and in- 
 stead of displacing the Advertiser, confirmed its ascendency. On the 
 occasion of some strictures on Cambridge election, the article was copied 
 m the Glole, another London paper, when some tory of the county 
 waited on Lord Gower, and complained of such writings in the Stafford- 
 shire Advertiser. Lord Leveson Gower wrote a letter to the editor, 
 naming the circnmstance, and saying, that his reply was, that he should 
 not interfere with the liberty of the press. Soon after this, Mr. Collins, 
 without consulting Mr. Keen, sold the paper to Mr. Charles Chester, 
 a respectable printer and stationer, in Newcastle. Among the ex- 
 changed papers which the editor was receiving, there were only three 
 which gave original strictures ; Draharrdh Stamford News, the Sheffield 
 Iris, and the Tyne Merov/ry ; the former brought out Mr. Scott, who 
 was shot in a magazine duel, at the Whitehouse. Mr. James Mont- 
 gomery, the poet and patriarch of SheflB.eld, and Mr. Hewson, who is 
 named in Lord Byron's "English Bards and Scotch Eeviewers," in a 
 marginal note, as Subaudi, Esq. "What Hewson had done at Lord 
 Byron, I never learned. 
 
 After the sale of the paper, the editor entered into a correspondence 
 with some London gentlemen, and connected himself with the London 
 press. 
 
 OOLEEIDGB, CHARLES LAMB, AND EOBEET HALL. 
 ■LOwaoTS, 1811, 12, & 13. 
 
 I purchased a press, types, and the regular plant of a newspaper, 
 at an office in ClerkenweU, with a practical printer. I had a brother, 
 who was a Unitarian, with literary taste and literary friends, who 
 wanted a newspaper in the dissenting interest printed on a "Wednesday ; 
 I projected a Sunday paper, so that the two might interchange some 
 services. My brother had married a daughter of Mr. Brent, an 
 established tobacconist, in Bishopgate-street- within ; another sister 
 married a literary gentleman, with whom the celebrated Coleridge re- 
 
23 
 
 sided for a short time: I frequently met Mr. Coleridge there, and 
 CharleB Lam.b, a kind of Lion's provider. In the midst of the profound 
 thought and mystic lore, Lamb, who ■would often break in with what, 
 his fair hostess called, a skit, showing the proximity of the great and the 
 little, testing the sublime by the ridiculous. One night I chanced to have a 
 Leicester newspaper in my pocket, containing a speech made by the 
 celebrated Robert Hall, at a platform meeting of the advocates of the 
 Bible Society ; Coleridge read it with great interest, and remarked, how 
 ingeniously Hall dealt with the argument in a circle. He afterwards 
 said, "these platform meetings, where clergymen and dissenting ministers 
 come into competition, as to which should bid the highest for support 
 in religious zealots, and puritanical enthusiasts ; these circumstances, 
 he said, would lead to a low church, and a high church wider apart, than 
 ever yet was known, — one, leaning to the latitudinarian services of the 
 dissenters, and the other, to the ceremonials of the Eoman catholics." 
 This was the effect of what he said, in general language, and the pre- 
 diction has been verified. 
 
 THE EIFLEMAN. 
 
 The "Eifleman" was a Hterary paper, with criticisms — political and 
 theatrical. My opinions are thus expressed, ia the number, published 
 January 18th, 1812, from the scrap of one half of the paper accidentally 
 preserved. 
 
 Before we commence a review of others, we ought, perhaps, to say 
 something of ourselves. What we have to say, however, is soon told. 
 We come "unknowing and unknown," on the scene of competition. 
 We hme neither pa/rty nor patron ; nor will we have any. We have no 
 long company of partners, who thrust papers in all the ramifications of 
 
 readiag as the proprietors of water-works insinuate their channels, 
 
 Hke veins, through the hodA/ corporate of this great metropolis. It pre- 
 supposes a paper to be a lad article that requires such means of support ; 
 and in order to conciliate and secure the same, it is necessary that its 
 politics should lorrow a tinge from the opinion of every friend. This 
 enables it to exhibit a most beautiful specimen of rainbow reasoning. 
 
 Were it not for the commencement of new papers, we might follow 
 this speculation tUl we forsaw the destruction of all journals, as Darwin 
 describes the probable end of the universe. We change the words (in 
 italics) to accommodate the subject. 
 
24 
 
 Roll on ye Stars ! exhalt in youthful^prime ; 
 Mark, with bright wit the printing steps of time. 
 Near and more near your paper cars approach, 
 And lessening orbs on lessening orbs'encroach. 
 Flowers of the art — ^ye too to age must yield, 
 Trail as your silken sisters of the field ! 
 Stae after Stab. ixom. printing fame shall rush, 
 Stjns sink on Suns, and Globes on Globes shall crush. 
 Headlong, extinct, to one dark centre fall. 
 And death, and night, and chaos, mingle all ! 
 Till o'er the wreck, emerging from the storm, 
 Immmortal News shail lift her changeful form ; 
 Mount from her funeral pyre on wings of flame, 
 And print and puff another and the same. 
 
 The motto of the "Eifleman" was, to "shoot folly as it flies," with a 
 neat woodcut, illustrative of Punch with his rifle. 
 
 BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 Up to 1820, the "Lichfield Mercury" had a considerable circu- 
 lation in Birmingham; it took up the memorable murder of Mary 
 Ashford, by Abraham Thornton, violated, and drowned in a pit, adjoin- 
 ing the place, in going from a dance at Edrington, near Birmingham. 
 His acquittal at the trial produced a sensation never equalled in any 
 similar event. 
 
 The editor procured a map of the place ; had a sketch taken of the 
 personal appearance of both parties by an artist, and engraved. The 
 evidence turned on a point of time, as to whether Thornton, when 
 he was seen at a style with the girl, could proceed to the scene of 
 violation, and then be seen again at a given distance within the period ; 
 this turned on different country clocks, notorious only from their 
 variation from each other, and all from true time. The greater portion 
 of the new evidence for another trial was procured, and sent to the 
 solicitor at Birmingham, (Mr. Y. Bedford, as far as. I can recollect.) 
 At the second trial, Thornton's counsel took shelter under a very old 
 Act, by which it was seen that no man could be tried on a second charge 
 of murder on which he had been acquitted, except by wager of battle 
 before the Sovereign, between the heir-at-law of the person murdered, 
 and the accused murderer, when Providence would decide on the case. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 BiEMiNGHAM (continued.) — ^The Fathee of the English Press. — 
 Recollections of the late Seegeant Wilkins. 
 
 SOME ease of wrong inflicted on influential parties in Birmingham, 
 by either the Board of Trade, or the Board of Taxes, a statement of 
 which was sent to the editor of the '.' Lichfield Mercury," and pubKshed. 
 The "Board demanded the name of the writer, and a threat of an action 
 for libel. The editor consulted his correspondent, and received a full 
 iademnity for the result, from Mr. Gem, solicitor. The editor took no 
 notice of the threat, and no action followed. 
 
 In 1820, the editor was invited to meet Thomas Atwood and 
 Joshua Schol&eld, Esqrs., at Spooner and Atwood's bank, when a pro- 
 posal was made to establish a new public Journal, in Birmingham, in 
 ifS subscriptions to the amount of £500 in the whole, distributed through 
 Birmingham and Staffordshire. 
 
 The editor, having disposed of his press and types, in the sale of 
 his Lichfield paper, he undertook, on the faith of this proposal, to 
 purchase anew iron Albion press, new types, and all the "plant" of a 
 regular newspaper. He took a printing and publishing office iu New- 
 street, and a house for himself at Edgebaston, when the "Birmingham 
 Mercury" was regularly commenced. The shares had not all been 
 filled up, when it was found that there were three parties, who 
 differed in opinion as to the political tone of the paper. The editor de- 
 clined a censorship in any form whatever, and called a meeting of the 
 shareholders at Ereeth's coffee-house^ requiring them to produce another 
 
 D 
 
26 
 
 person who would take the materials of the office, and carry on the 
 concern. About fourteen met, not one of whom would agree to 
 the appointment of another person ; another party held a meeting else- 
 where. The editor then announced his intention to retire at the end of 
 the year, unless his request was compHed with. The young man, who 
 acted as clerk and puhlisher, wrote out a debtor and creditor account of 
 the receipts and disbursements of the paper, which was printed and 
 circulated among the shareholders, showing a deficit of about £80, with- 
 out any charge having been made for an editor. The editor met aU his 
 liabilities of the year, and removed his press, types, &c., to another 
 place. Many of the shares were never paid up. 
 
 Thomas Atwood, Esq., and several other gentlemen acted very 
 honourably to the editor on that occasion. 
 
 "THE FATHEE OP THE ENGLISH PEESS." 
 (From the Shrewsbury Chronicle, 1856.^ 
 This is a proud distiuction for any man ; and the gentleman to 
 whom it has been fitly applied is Mr. James Amphlett, a weU-kno'wn 
 journalist in this and the neighbouring counties of Stafford and "Wor- 
 cester. A writer in the Liverpool Albion, copying Mr. Amphlett's 
 letter, "EecoUeetions of the late Sergeant WiUdns," which appeared in 
 our columns a few weeks ago, has given a brief epitome of his life ; but 
 has, ia so doing, fallen into an error as regards the number of years 
 since Mr. Amphlett first conducted a newspaper on his own account. 
 The writer says it is "upwards of siKty." We believe, however, that 
 ten years must be deducted from that period. In 1845, Mr. Amphlett, 
 shortly before the death of Mr. John Eddowes, for many years the pro- 
 prietor of the Salopian Journal, and who at that period was proprietor 
 oi Eidowes' Journal, (after the sale of the Salopian), became editor of 
 Eddowes\ and his connection with that paper 'continued until 1853, 
 when it was sold by the widow of Mr. Eddowes. Since that period Mr. 
 Amphlett has been enjoying the "lettered ease" which a long and 
 eventful life, spent iu the turmoil of party politics and exciting home 
 and foreign topics, so much needs — not, however, whoUy sequestering 
 himself from newspaper, and periodical literature, but using his fertile 
 pen as a pleasurable recreation. Mr. Amphlett resides in Shrewsbury; 
 and although in bis 81st year, apparently enjoys his green old age much 
 better than many men a quarter of a century his juniors. 
 
27 
 
 We copy the article upon Mr. Ajnphlett from the Liverpool Albion, 
 believing it to be written by a gentleman who, some years ago, was one 
 of our "bright particular stars" in the horizon of Salopian newspaper 
 literature: — "He, Mr. Amphlett, was a distinguished journalist in the 
 best days of English journalism ; that is, when the profession was more 
 intellectual and somewhat less mechanical than it has since become : — 
 when Southey, Coleridge, Gait, Jas. Stewart, Dr. Oroly, and numerous 
 others of a very high order of mind were regular writers in the daily 
 and weekly press of the metropolis. 
 
 When Leigh Hunt seceded from the Mws, then, and for many 
 years tiie leading weekly journal, and, with his brother John Hunt, 
 started the Hxcminer in rivalry to the News, in 1810, Mr. Amphlett be- 
 came the principal writer, his article in the first page, generally on 
 foreign politics being more quoted, both at home and abroad, than any 
 other or most others of the period ; several of them, especially in 
 relation to the incidents in the Bonapartean war, being frequently re- 
 printed, in a separate form, years after they had been written, and 
 when their anticipations had become matters of history. Though never 
 seeking to emerge from the secltision to which custom has doomed 
 anonymous journalism in this country, and xmder which many of the 
 brightest intellects of the time have descended to obscure and nameless 
 graves, Mr. Amphlett, Kke the late Captain Stirling, was known to a 
 large circle of admiring friends, including the prominent contemporary 
 celebrities in politics, literature, the arts, and the drama; for in almost 
 every department of composition he excelled, his political pasquinades, 
 for example, often adding to the lustre of well-known names in the 
 popular mouth, the real author being whoUy unsuspected. 
 
 As another evidence of his versatility it may be mentioned that the 
 first Charles Mathews regarded Tiim as the best theatrical critic of an 
 era, that took its histrionic tone from such writers as Haditt, Lamb, 
 Holcroft, and TaKourd, and who had Siddons, the Kembles, Kean, 
 Suett, Listen, Munden, Mrs. Jordan, &c., as the materiel tov commentary. 
 Being behind the scenes of the poUtioal stage, and seeing, or fancying 
 he saw, a vast deal of Whig jobbery in respect to particular counties 
 and boroughs, in the first draft of the Eeform BiU, he refused to 
 countenance the universal furore that broke out in favour of the bUl, 
 and, seceding from the Mws, adopted the moderate, but to aU sides 
 most unpalatable, tone of the party of whom then Lords Harrowby 
 
28 
 
 and Wharncliffe were the head. This being long before even Lord 
 Melbourne thought it worth while to 'say that 'of all mad things the 
 maddest was the admission of fbreign com ;' of course free trade was 
 scouted by nearly all writers, and by Mr. Amphlett among the rest ; 
 but his views on most other social questions were far iu advance of his 
 time, and abreast of those that are now urged as if they were the dis- 
 coveries-of the passing hour. Pew men have, personally exercised so 
 large an influence on younger journalists as Mr. Amphlett ; and by one 
 of these whose greatest ambition was to be deemed capable of distantly 
 imitating so accomplished a master, and who is but too conscious of the 
 failure of the effort, this souvenir of an active life, now extending to- 
 wards the ninetieth year, is offered in connection with the annexed 
 record, whose subject matter possesses some local interest to the readers 
 of the Albion." 
 
 To the above, the writer quotes Amphlett's recollections of the late 
 
 SEEGEAJSTT WILKINS. 
 fTo the Editor of the Sh/rewslury Chronicle.) 
 
 SiE, — Observing some statements in the newspapers maligning the 
 early character of the late Sergeant WilMns, I taie the opportunity of 
 doing an act of justice to an old and talented political opponent. 
 
 I do not wish to obtrude on the public any circumstances affecting 
 myself any further than they relate to the objects in view, and the 
 peculiar character of an eventful period in the national history. 
 
 It was in, or about the year 1830 (for I have no file of papers to 
 refer to), when Mr. Witkins crossed my path, and I was conducting my 
 own paper, in Lincoln, on temperate Tory principles. Catholic Emanci- 
 pation had passed; the Eoman Catholics in Ireland and England were 
 appeased, and the chiefs of the CathoKo nobility had originated a sub- 
 scription to erect a splendid monument to the memory of the Duke of 
 "Wellington, which, however, was never carried out. There was a lull 
 in reform agitations. The Duke, Sir. E. Peel, Earl Wilton, and others, 
 had previously accepted of invitations to public dinners at Manchester 
 and Birmingham, the design of which was to ascertain the opinions of 
 the great leaders of those towns, how far the concession of the elective 
 fi-anchise was desirable, or would be beneficial to such places ; and the 
 substance of the answers received was, that it might be injurious, in 
 creating political agitations and divisions inimical to the peace and pros- 
 
29 
 
 perity of such active popxdations* On some similar public occasion, 
 the Duke, when questioned on the subject of reform, said "that such 
 reforms -were not then called for, or desired in large towns." This gave 
 birth to the general reports, which stated that the Duke was opposed to 
 all reform, and the continued repetition of these assertions had obtained 
 a currency which passed as a matter of fact. I -wrote to the Duke in 
 1840, representing ho-w desirable it -was that such false statements should 
 be contradicted, as they tended to falsify and -vdtiate the materials of 
 history. He -wrote me a reply, a copy of -which I subjoin to this letter, f 
 The genius of reform -was slumbering, but -"hot sleeping, and 
 Wilfcins -was the first man to evoke it. A few men of extreme opinions 
 in lincoln, collected a fund to oppose my paper. One of them being at 
 Nottingham, heard Mr. "Wilkin s declaiming most eloquently in favour 
 of reform, as an object more than ever necessary ; in consequence of 
 which he was invited to come and be the editor of the newspaper, and 
 ™y opponent. He was then a very young man, but weU educated, and 
 very unlike any person so reduced as to go about singing songs at low 
 pubKc-houses for a pint of ale, &c., as some reports represent him to 
 have done. The first thing he did was to -write to persons in Stafford- 
 shire in order to learn something as to my antecedents : and as I had 
 in that locality been in a state of sharp warfare -with the chiefe of a 
 violent religious sect, called the ElUamites, which originated in that 
 county, — (called subsequentiy, the methodist new connexion,) he pro- 
 cured of course much rubbish as matters of abuse, of which he made 
 the most, though I never took the trouble to notice or contradict it — my 
 former character being well kno-wn to many respectable gentlemen in 
 the city, as connected -with the late Mr. Drewery's Staffordshire Advertiser; 
 Drewery being a native of the city. Some persons have nick-named 
 Mr. WilkJTiB as Peter WiUdns (allusive to the old story of the Flying 
 Dutchman), the public adopted the notion that it was his proper name, 
 * Such were the representations of the daily press at the time. 
 
 t THE duke's note. 
 
 "London, April 29th, 1840. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington presents his complimeuts to Mr. Amphlett. 
 
 The Duke has, throughout a long life passed in the military, diplomatical, and 
 political service of the state, now of more than half a century's duration, been persecuted 
 by the misrepresentations and libels of the daily press. He has learnt to despise such 
 nonsensical trash, and, at all events, never to notice such stuff, excepting in the mode 
 pointed out by the law. 
 
 The Duke begs leave to decline to correspond with Mr. Amphlettjipon the subject 
 adverted to in his letter of the 28th April. 
 
 J. Amphlett, Esq.,- Stafford. 
 
30 
 
 and Lis letters to the office were superscribed Peter WilMas, Esq., which 
 much annoyed him. He was a young man much superior to the party 
 who had retained him, and the post of personalities assigned him. 
 With youth, a handsome person, a fine voice, and an elequent delivery, 
 he became ashamed of some of his associates from their violence. I was 
 informed of some of the facts related among the present current reports 
 about the sergeant, in the papers, — ^which, speaking of him, says : 
 " That he had wealoiesses, and gross ones, is but too true ; and a very 
 amusing incident is known to more than one connected with some en- 
 quiries at the stage door of the then Warwick theatre, at Stratford, as 
 to the whereabouts of one WUkins, late schoolmaster in Birmingham, 
 who had quitted and left chargeable to the parish, &c." Mr. W. learnt 
 that this intelligence had been communicated to me, and addressed me 
 in a private note, begging I woxdd not depart from the public matters 
 in discussion to some unforiuuate circumstances that would reach me in 
 relation to a female, &c. I wrote in reply to his note, that it was un- 
 necessary, as it was a rule with me never to violate the sanctity of private 
 life in the discussion of public principles. We met a short time 
 afterwards at a memorable execution of two criminals, in the court 
 yard of Lincoln Castle, whither we had gone for the same purpose of 
 taking notes of the manners and bearing of the offenders. One was a 
 ferocious burglar, who had, with others, entered a country house at 
 night, masked, and exhibiting swords and pistols, and perpetrated a 
 great robbery ; the other was a poor sheep-stealer, and the last I believe 
 who was hung for that class of offences : his plea was, that he intended 
 to remunerate the person robbed. Mr. Witkins and myself took a 
 few notes — ^how the burglar, a stout fellow, six feet high, walked in 
 silence to the scaffold like a Eoman hero, unshaken ; and the trembling 
 penitent, who had been a local preacher, with a bible in his hands, 
 muttering his prayers. Mr. Wilkins, thanking me for my courtesies, 
 said he was going to leave his post and the city ; we literally shook 
 hands under the gallows, and parted, and I never heard of him after- 
 wards, tiU. I traced him coming out as a successful barrister. 
 
 At the time Wilkins was a member of the press in the city of 
 Lincoln, Eadicahsm was rampant in that county. 
 
 After the passing of the Emancipation Act the conduct of the Tories 
 was a quiet submission, with gloomy forebodings, to the law ; but the 
 French Eevblution of the three days, and that of Belgium succeeding it, 
 
31 
 
 the spirit of "progress" arose that carried us onwaxd in storms up to the 
 eve of the Eeform Bill. "We are now commencing a session and a Par- 
 liament which will have to deal with the subject ; but we are happily in 
 no danger of any project of reform coming with such a heady current 
 as in 1830-31-32. The Times of Monday Last has a well-reasoned article 
 on the principle of Eeform apart from details, from which few intelligent 
 Tories will dissent, in the maia argument. We should except to the 
 caUfor "more metropolitan boroughs," while the constituencies of those 
 already created are below parcompared to many of those in the country 
 boroughs. 
 
 The turning point of the danger in 1831 was at that particular junc- 
 ture when then the King turned round on the Grey ministry and dis- 
 missed them, resenting what he considered an advantage taken of >n'm 
 by Earl Grey, in the creation, or promised creation, of Peers. The 
 Tories were coerced on this occasion; it was on no advice of theirs; they 
 were obliged to stand by the King for the moment, but their conduct 
 was judicious and forbearing. A small circular note, in lithograph, was 
 sent to the Lord-Lieutenants of counties for the lieutenancy of the 
 kingdom. Of that short lithographed note, which was never acted upon, 
 and which, I believe, was "never published, I obtained a copy; it is with- 
 out date as to the year, but it must have been in May, 1831-2. The 
 
 following is a transcript : 
 
 "London, May. 
 
 It ia deemed of the utmost importance at the [present moment, that all his 
 Majesty's loyal subjects ■who feel it a duty to support the King in the exercise of his 
 constitutional prerogative should instantly express, by addresses to the throne, their 
 attachment to his person and family, and their determination to support him in 
 upholding the supremacy of the laws." 
 
 In three or four days at the utmost, if not less, the King was ad- 
 vised by the Tories to recall the Grey ininistry. The people were furious, 
 only as to having the "the Bill.'" and "the whole of the biU;" but as 
 they required nothing "but the BiU," the moment it was granted the 
 storm was hushed. 
 
 It was a fearful period. It was known that I was conducting my 
 paper on my own resources, and on most unpopular principles, at a 
 perilous time, and in a large county that had no other Conservative 
 journal to divide the invidious duty, — ^the Stamford <md Lincoln Merewry, 
 the Boston Gazette, and Drakard's paper, being all liberal. I of course 
 enjoyed the confidence of many of the aristocracy, clergy, and gentry of 
 
32 
 
 the county, and much confideiitial correspondence. I apprised the 
 Duke of Wellington of some attempts that were being made to excite a 
 mutiny in the Lincolnshire Militia, which had been called up at that 
 time; and thus by the vigilance of Lord Brownlow, the Lord- 
 Lieutenant of the county, every precaution was taken, and two sides of 
 the county were overlaid by detachments of the liae. The Duke of 
 Newcastle, with whom I was in. occasional correspondence, was in 
 danger of mob murder, in attending a charity ball at Newark. Public 
 men were so alarmed that I was told by one ia high authority,' that he 
 scarcely knew on whom he could rely in an hour of emergency. I re- 
 ceived many "Swing letters," threatening to "burn me out," which I 
 considered only as hruta fulmina,* and as they came from professed 
 incendiaries they went into their own element — ^the fire. What the 
 million destroy the "Hundred" must make good. 
 
 I avail myself, by your courtesy, of the circulation of your journal 
 for these gossipping observations, and am, &c., &c., 
 
 Shrewsbury, April 28, 1840. James Amphlett. 
 
 The original letter and note have been copied at the Chronicle office. 
 
 * Englislimeii are not assassins; and much, of populai fury is a mere menace of 
 words in our vernacular. I often went into a numerous company at the Falstaff Inn, 
 Lincoln, where usually none but Literals attended, but never received either insult or 
 a&ont. They rather enjoyed a little opposition than otherwise, as it enabled them to 
 come out stronger with their barleycorn thunder. Such was the confidence of the people 
 in their cause fliat I was once offered a considerable wager that the King dissolved the 
 House of Peers if they did not pass the Reform Bill. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 The Pbess of Past Times. — ^The Ne-wspapee; Letter I. — The Nevs- 
 PAPEK ; Letter H. — The Fag End of an Olb Story : somewhat 
 
 LlTEEAUT, AS NEWSPAPER Q-OSSIP. 
 
 (From the Shrewsbury Chronicle. J 
 
 J^E extract the foUowing from the Liverpool Allion, premising that 
 even now the writer contributes leading articles to more than one 
 conservative newspaper : 
 
 Sir, — la copying my "Eecollections of the late Sergeant WiUdns," 
 you have done me the honour of some professional courtesies, to which 
 I am afraid I am very slightly entitled. Old editors, who have been 
 constantly, more or less, in the melie of the political strife of national 
 parties during the present century, take kicks and compHments with the 
 like coolness and equanimity, often ill deserving of either. There are 
 one or two trifling inaccuracies in your statement of my antecedents. It 
 is nearer fifty than sixty yea,rs siaee I was first connected with the pro- 
 perty of newspapers, and then only in shares with other persons ia 
 dififerent journals in London, all of which went down, and deserved no 
 other fate. Poor Scott, formerly known to me by his "exchange paper," 
 the Stamford News, and who was shot in the magazine duel at the White 
 House, wished me to join bim in the Champion, which I declined. He 
 was the ablest country journalist I ever met with, at least, ia those times. 
 Montgomery, of the Sheffield Iris, (James, not Bob,) called on me ia 
 London, in 1812. I had reviewed and eulogised his poems, about the 
 
34 
 
 time when the "Blue and Buff" had thundered \\s, judex damnatw, Sfc.^ 
 over his muse, and he said my praise had been a comfort to him. He 
 was almost as sensitive as the hard who was "snuffed out by an article." 
 Hewson Clarke, of the Tyne Mercwry, '' SubcMdd esquire," immortalized 
 in Byron's Bunciad, sent me one of my exchanges. A Cambridge paper, 
 (name forgotten), edited by some Dissenting minister, was the first 
 Jacobin journal I ever read, and that was in my school days, at North- 
 ampton. It is with no pleasing feelings that, in our memories, we walk 
 over the dust of three generations of talented contemporaries. An 
 incidental notoriety attached to my leaders in the Staffordshire Advertiser, 
 from about the year 1804 to 1811, on their being so often quoted by the 
 Oowier, when edited by Mr. Street, and by the Glohe, edited by Mr. 
 White, one of the proprietors. I corresponded occasionally with Street 
 on other matters, and, to prevent the invidiousness of frequent quotations 
 from the same paper, he had my authority to work up anything he foxind 
 in my writing, as raw material, of which he frequently availed himself. 
 All personal feelings were then absorbed in the patriotism of the times, 
 and the fiirU of my strictures was only the echo of the national spirit. 
 The Courier lost its ablest conductor when Street left it. One of his 
 brightest days was that on which he gave a splendid dinner to Madame 
 Oatalani, when he sported the elegant service presented to him by the 
 Prince Regent. Coleridge was there and he told me that there was 
 "nothing in his wines so humble as port, and he called for a bottle to 
 shame him." 
 
 There is but one person living — or was living about nine years past 
 — to whom I was well known sixty-six years ago, and that is Henry 
 Byouerj Esq., who, up to that late period, was the British Consul at 
 Trieste for forty-five years. Mr. Bynnea^ was a self-educated young man, 
 who made himself master of the French and German languages, and 
 stenography, at a very early age. He took an important trial in short- 
 hand, at Warwick, in a case of property, which was published, and said 
 to be the first thing of the kind known ia that county. I acquired my 
 first rude notions from him of the art of reporting, as well as of the 
 French language. Mr. Bynner who must be my senior by six or seven 
 years, was a more particular and intimate Mend of an elder brother of 
 mine, who emigrated to America, and wrote the Emigrant's Directory, 
 which he dedicated to Mr. Bynner, as his earliest and best friend: pub- 
 lished by Longman and Co., London. Observing in the Birmingham 
 
35 
 
 papers, some few years ago, the death of Mrs. Bynner, wife of her Maj- 
 esty's Consul at Trieste, I wrote a letter to my old tutor, though he was 
 then a young one, sympathizing with him. I have his reply. It is in 
 a clear and steady hand that shames mine, and bears the date, " Sher- 
 bourne-road, BabaU-heath, Birmingham, June 1, 1841." He thanks 
 me for my kind condolence with him, and begs if I ever came to 
 Birmiagham, I will come and see him. He teUs me that my letter 
 "recalls to miad our youthful days ;" and that he "has still Mends left 
 in Birmingham." I have never been over in that quarter since ; but 
 trust he is still living, though he must be hard on ninety years of age. 
 I might, perhaps, here name an instance of my earliest efforts at re- 
 porting, — ^not ia short-hand, for I never had patience to learn it, but as 
 practised on sermons when I could get nothing local. 
 
 When Bums and Gale Jones were sent down as delegates from 
 the London Corresponding Society, to lecture on the importance of trial 
 by jury — ^it being at or about the time when the prosecution of Hardy, 
 Thelwall, and others were on the tapis, and whom Windham called the 
 " acquitted felons," and which period brought out Erskine — I attended 
 a lecture delivered at an obscure ale-house, in Suffolk-street, by Binns, 
 and took some notes. The delegates were prosecuted for sedition, and I 
 was subpoened on the trial at Warwick. On a consultation, I was deemed 
 too young to be put in the witness-box ; but got a seat in the court near 
 to Dr. Parr, the great liberal Whig of the time, who faced the jury in 
 his full-blown dress wig, menacing them with his daring eye if they 
 dreamt of finding a verdict of guilty. Mr. Vaughan, afterwards Mr. 
 Justice Vaughan, was the counsel for the defendants, and considered the 
 only liberal barrister on the circuit. He made a most eloquent defence. 
 The jury had to retire, and were locked up for several hours in a room 
 at the inn, but ultimately returned a verdict of not guilty. Among my 
 records of some knowledge of the departed great, I have, among others, 
 in my old scrap-book, letters of the celebrated E. B. Sheridan, and his 
 son Tom, the hero of the salons, the best gentleman-dancer of his day, 
 the best snipe-shot, master of the gloves in an amateur sparring-match, 
 and the best boon companion of the bottle. I was his head squib- 
 writer when he contested the borough of Stafford with a Mr. Phillips, 
 a Welshman ; Tom having the celebrated Peter Pinnarty as his spouter, 
 at the Bull-ring, and PhiQips, the noted 0. P. Clifford, the leader of the 
 greatO.P.Eow, atDrury-lane. Tom lost the election with more gloiy than 
 
36 
 
 his opponent won it, namely from coming too late. Fast living brought 
 
 on a decliae, and his last days were spent as a private secretary, at the 
 
 Cape, to Lord Charles Somerset, afterwards Lord Eaglan. I have also 
 
 some reHes in letters of Holcroffc and Gf-odwin, and was a contributor to 
 
 the Theatrical Recorder, published by the former, as long as it lasted. I 
 
 wrote to Godwin to ridicule some scenes on his last and worst novel of 
 
 Fleetwood, rating the bathos of that scene ia his hero, where he did not 
 
 choose, in his jealousy, to thrash his wife in the common old English 
 
 fashion. He rather chose to dress up a mawkia with the bolster and 
 
 piEow of his bed, ia her night dress and cap, and then "pitch into her." 
 
 Grodwiii wrote in reply, to defend his delicacy as an heroic husband, 
 
 saying that he was ambitious of rivalliag the old "Man of FeeUng." 
 
 Not so the gentle moralist of Tweed ; 
 His "man of feeling" was a man indeed. 
 
 Some of the foregoing "recollections" may have an interest 
 in reference to these worthies. Eeminiscences of old seers, my 
 juniors, have had their day, and become a literary drug. There is a 
 Toryism that ranks high above that school of Tories as a class or clan 
 of partizans, and which looks solely to the security of the monarchy in 
 its prerogatives, rights, and immunities, and the integrity of the Church, 
 in their respected dealings with the spirit of the age, so as to preserve 
 the equihbrium of our mixed political system. The revenues of the 
 Church are the revenues of religious liberty in Europe. A sketch of the 
 state of society and trade at the latter end of the last and beginning of 
 the present century; the advance of the press, pari passu, with the 
 knowledge of the age ; the Binmngham Church and King Eiots, by a 
 young Rioter, when twelve years of age : some account of Bage,* the 
 best novelist of the last century, whose works were the most popular of 
 the time, though he was the first writer who introduced a strong dash 
 of liberal -poHtics ia works of fiction ; he was the personal friend of 
 Dr. Priestley, — these might furnish a brief volume of amusiag and ia- 
 teresting matter, when the mere twaddle of the ancients is no longer 
 tolerated. I am, respected sir, your obedient Servant, 
 
 Salop, June, 1857. James Amphlett. 
 
 * The Mr. Bage here alluded to was the father of Mr. Bage, of the firm of 
 Messrs. Benyon and Bage, thread and linen manufacturers, of this town. Shortly he- 
 fore the death of Dr. Darwin, some account was published by Mr. Amphlett of Mr. 
 Bage, and Dr. Darwin expressed his regret that he was unable to communicate some 
 particulars thereon. It is deserving of remark that nearly all the popular literature of 
 the present century was written by Liberals— Bage, Godwin, Holcroft, Byron, Leigh 
 Hunt, Campbell, and Southey at starting. — See his Wat TyUr.—M. S. C. 
 
37 
 
 THE NEW8PAPEE.— LETTER I. 
 
 (From the Liverpool Albion, j 
 
 Sm. — Cowper called a newspaper a 
 
 " Folio of four pages, 
 
 WHoli not e'en critica criticise ;" 
 So low was his estimate of critics, and the "lower depth" of the 
 newspaper of his days. I prefer yoiir paper to most others, on account 
 of its selections, — a judgment in which is the great art of the press, — 
 leaving leaders (always wai-ving the lengthy) to the more thinking 
 portion of the readers. The original proprietor of the Staffordshire 
 Advertiser served his apprenticeship on the Berly Mercury, one of the 
 oldest coujitry newspapers in the kingdom, and which was for many 
 years called the '^Fool's Chronicle," at the Chapter Coffee-house, though 
 now a highly respectable paper of the class Conservative. This Derby 
 compositor did the editing, La his way, and often said that he had to 
 look into the last Lady^s Maga%ine for something fresh in the postcript. 
 The latest intelligence was, however, slow in distribution, for the said 
 paper was printed, from its foundation, so as to leave one entire day for 
 it to be dried on the lines of the of&ce, and got ready for the farmers 
 and country readers attending the market day ; hence the present day 
 of its publication. The staple of the postcript often consisted of "burnt 
 children," or "recipes for the bite of a mad dog," — no matter when or 
 where. Now, this Derby boy, who became a proprietor and editor of 
 his own journal, and died in the year 1842, was one of the best judges 
 of a selection for a newspaper that I ever met with, though the writer 
 has had an experience far greater than his. "What he thought the 
 people would like to read" was his guiding star; and not what exactly 
 suits the editor's taste and opinion of the selector. I like your selection 
 in matters interesting to men of literary taste and the lovers of science, 
 because they are choice and rare. You avoid aU the dogmata of 
 religionists, for you cannot approach the line separating the sectilar 
 from the sacred without some "border fray," in the shape or shade of 
 priestcraft. When men approach the affairs of church or chapel, they 
 seem to lose sight of their Christianity, though the divine biography of 
 the Saviour of men is the plainest and purest lesson to mankind of 
 charitable forbearance. The hundreds of waggon loads of religious 
 controversy have done more to divide Christians than unite them in 
 Christian brotherhood. 
 
38 
 
 In politics, as well as in religion, all men have the right of private 
 judgment; and, if we write our own opinions, openly and honestly, we 
 are respected by all reasonable men, whether they agree with us or not, 
 leaving rancour and abuse to mediocrity, and avoiding the shams of 
 neutrality where there are no neutrals. In the affairs of France and 
 the Western Alliance, the ablest writers observe a certaiQ retieense ; 
 and The Times very properly calls our attention, occasionally, to the old 
 anti-English nationality of the French people, whether of the Empire, 
 the Legitimists, or the Republicans. They talk often of a new India 
 ia Africa, — of the fature Morocco and Tunis; of a "Queen of the 
 Mediterranean" and of the Alps, — and this, both ia the papers, "the 
 ^Government and the "Divine Eight" men; of our possible inability to 
 reconquer India without the aid of an European force ; of Malta, 
 Gibraltar, and Corfu, in "exchange;" of Palmerston crossing the 
 French policy on cutting the isthmus of Suez, — the Premier being 
 aware that, so long as armies are to be sent round the Cape, and 
 England retains her naval ascendancy, our rivals on the Continent have 
 no chance with us. All this is dgnifieant,zsiA. worthy of being kept ia 
 mind. The Premier may sleep; but he sleeps like the watch-dog — with 
 one eye open. 
 
 If you deem thesg slips of opinion worthy of insertion, I may 
 probably add a few more. I am, &c., 
 
 October 26. ks Old Politician. 
 
 THE NEWSPAPEE.— LETTEE II. 
 
 (From the Liverpool Albion. J 
 
 THE FAG-END OF AN OLD STORY: SOMEWHAT LITEEAET, AS 
 NEWSFAPEE GOSSIP. 
 
 "Talking of Berkeley Castle," as Ollapod would say, puts the 
 writer in mind of his early days, when he read a cheap Boctor Faustus, 
 who was a compositor at the case before he took out his diploma as 
 D. D., Doctor of Diablerie, with a staff of infantry in the black uniform of 
 the art, who have preserved all the traditions of their origin in one un- 
 broken succession, — much more perfect than that of the Papal chair, 
 that is said to be deficient in the first links, which deficiency cannot be 
 made up by the continual lengthening of the chain at the other end. This 
 
39 
 
 reminds us of tlie Irish sailor, who, in hauling in a hopeless length of 
 rope, said somebody must have cut off the other end. The order of 
 printers will be perfect from the first to the latest, and perish only with 
 the world. Dr. Southey, of happy Wat Tyler memory, — sack and the 
 seuck-hutt of the laureate, in. due choral honour and harmony, — was very 
 partial to the diableries in his light and early poems, as well as Coleridge, 
 am.ong which was the Old Woman of Berheley, as wicked a rip as ever 
 reared imps for the fourth -estate in olden time. 
 
 After putting out her son to the order of monks, and her daughter 
 to the nuns, she disposed of herself to an old gentleman in the low 
 countries. The doctor found the story in old Latinity, (a copy of which 
 the writer still possesses in some of his papers,) and translated it into 
 free English doggrels, of the very first class. The staple of the story is 
 to the following effect : — Having "preserved the souls of her children,'-' 
 she proceeds in the execution of her incantations, making a condition 
 with her master that, if she could preserve her body in the church for 
 three nights, she should go scot free of him. This was agreed to ; and 
 the old beldame, knowing her power in the church, — ^her command of 
 the keys, and her influence in retaining all the holy officers, of the 
 ringers, choristers, monks, and nuns, with beU, book, and candle, prayer 
 and song, — deemed that the old one would be "statute-run," as they 
 call it, and liors de cour. It is a long time since I read the verses, but, 
 by the witchery of double rhymes, and the frequent recitation of them 
 to wondering fireside circles, in other days, I shall be able to give the 
 chief stanzas. The story is finely introduced by the warning given to 
 the old woman when at supper : 
 
 " Tie raven croaked as she sat at her meal, 
 
 And the old -woman kue-w what it said, 
 And she grew pale at the raven's tale. 
 
 And sicken' d and went to hed. 
 
 ' Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed,' 
 
 The old woman of Berkeley said, — 
 'The monk, my son, and my daughter the nun, 
 
 ' Bid them hasten, or I shall be dead. 
 
 The monk, her son, and her daughter the nun, 
 
 Away to Berkeley went ; 
 And they have brought, with pious thought. 
 
 The holy sacrament. 
 
40 
 
 The old woman shrieked as they entered her door, 
 
 'Twaa fearful her shrieks to hear ; 
 'Now take the sacrament away, 
 
 'For mercy, my children dear.' 
 
 Away they sent the sacrament ; 
 
 The fit it left her weak : 
 She looked at her children with ghastly eyes, 
 And faintly struggled to speak. 
 
 ' All kinds of sin I have rioted in, 
 
 ' And the judgment now must be ; 
 ' But I preserv'd my children's souls, 
 
 ' ! pray, my children, for me !" 
 
 The old woman then proceeds to give a descriptive inventory of all 
 the holy aids that would be required, in drilling the ringers, choristers, 
 &o., to be in the church for the three nights, to the rescue from the evil 
 one. During the first night there was a dreadful rumbling about the 
 church doors and beating winds at the windows ; but they prayed, and 
 chaunted holy song, and rung the bells as for Hfe and death, till 
 
 " The cook he crew, away they flew. 
 
 The fiends, from the herald of day, 
 And undisturbed the 6horisters sung, 
 
 And the fifty priests they pray." 
 
 The second night consisted in an advance of fifty per cent, on the 
 terrors of the first ; but they all prayed, rung, and sung away, tOl "the 
 cock he crew," &c. The third night opened with storm and tempest, 
 thunder and lightning, and such a rocking of the church as threatened to 
 tumble it over the heads of the holy assem.blage ; the riagers deserted 
 the bells ; the nuns forgot their beads ; and the holy song degenerated 
 into a "quaver of consternation." The candles burnt blue, and there 
 was such a stench of brimstone that all were nearly suffocated. The 
 priests, &c., assembled round the old woman's coffin of stone, barred and 
 chained to the church floor. The church door was shaken as with a 
 battering-ram; but 
 
 "The strong church door could bear no more, 
 
 And the bolts and bars they fled. 
 When in he came, with eyes of flame, — 
 
 The devil to fetch the dead ; 
 And all the church with his presence gloVd 
 
 Like a fiery furnace red." 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 The Newspaper Press, Letter II. — The Fag End op an Old Story, 
 
 (CONTINTTED.) ThE NEWSPAPER PrESS, LETTERS III., & IV. 
 
 ^E advances to the old womaa's coiBn, and the monks and nuns mizzle; 
 
 He laid his hands on the iron chains, 
 
 And like flax they mouldered asunder ; 
 And tbe coffin-lid, that was barr'd so firm, 
 
 He burst with his voice of thunder. 
 
 And he bade the old woman of Berkeley arise, 
 
 And come with her master away ; 
 And the cold sweat stood on the colder corpse 
 At the voice she was forced to obey. 
 
 She rose on her feet in her winding sheet, 
 
 Her dead flesh quiver'd with fear; 
 And a shriek like that which the old woman gave 
 
 Never did mortal hear." 
 
 The fiend then drags her to the church door, and 
 
 "There stood a black horse there, 
 
 His nostrils breath' d a brimstone flame. 
 His eyes had the meteor's glare." 
 
 Here the story is cut rapidly but fearfully short : 
 
42 
 
 " The fiend with force flung her on the horse, 
 
 And he leapt up before ; 
 And away with the lightning's speed they went, 
 
 And she was seen no more. 
 
 She was seen no more, but her cries and shrieks 
 
 For five miles round they could hear; 
 And children at rest on their mother's breast 
 Started and soream'd with fear." 
 
 In the fibcst edition of these light -works of Southey there was a wood 
 cut, showing how an old woman "rode double, and who rode before her." 
 She was on a pillion, with her hair on end; her master, with the reins, 
 lashing the horse with his tail in lieu of a whip. The horse had his 
 proper attributions, and was at "full spUt"; incjeed, the fiend on the 
 black horse was a proper type of Death on the Pale one. It is a fine 
 story to quicken the young imagiaation, which is the true element of 
 mental strength. As youth grows up it learns to throw off all credence 
 in such stories, and place them to the proper account as works of fancy. 
 
 The OiiD Politician. 
 
 THE NEWSPAPEE.— LETTEE HI. 
 
 (From the Liverpool ATbion.) 
 
 A writer of the eighteenth century has said that "the opinion of 
 plenty is among the causes of want;" but there is some entanglement 
 of cause and effect in the phraseology, as to whether it is to be under- 
 stood that we are in want of a plentiful supply of opinion, or whether 
 this voce plenus produces some want of a more concentrated, intelligent, 
 and e£B.cient action. Both solutions would not apply to the nineteenth 
 century, which is deluged with opinion. In the present era everybody 
 knows everything, tells us everything, and wants to do everything, 
 which is probably the reason why so little is done, and that not done well. 
 
 A London correspondent has posted us the little volume of Toulmia 
 Smith on "Local Self-Government Un-mystified," just now issued. I 
 am not going to review this clever hrochure, which well deserves a serious 
 and searching train of thought and reading. I never treat on lengthy 
 subjects, having gone through most of those on the long list of the 
 age, and made up my mind on a verdict, proven or not proven. The 
 
43 
 
 "un-Bjystification of local self-government" would imply that it was a 
 mystery, which it is not: hut Smith has exhibited it in its "scientific" 
 miBt (if such thing may he) among our November fogs, and brought it 
 into a clearer sky. 
 
 Self-government commences with a man learning how to govern 
 himself, — ^to develop his own mental powers, think as well as read, and 
 exercise his judgment on the passing events of the time. Having done 
 this, he is an eligible candidate for an important and leading Town 
 Council, or the local rule of a village with one poHceman. Local self- 
 government occupies an essential department in social science, — ^if that 
 be not too great a name for a straight forward and honest regulation 
 of matters strictly local. Beyond this sphere, such a home bred and 
 taught centralism, flying off in a tangent from its orbit, woxdd cross and 
 intersect the circles of other powers. 
 
 Let us, in a light and gossiping style, illustrate and compare little 
 things with great ones. Everything in the world is relative. Centralism 
 is the rule of the universe. Our entire solar system is a locality of self- 
 government, the sun being the sovereign. Men are, relatively, only 
 vermin, or parasites, crawling on the surface of a fourth-rate planet, 
 with a revolving night gas-lamp or bull's-eye lantern. Uranus, at the 
 distance of so many thousands of millions of what we call miles, ^is one 
 of the most remote estates in a ring fence, all beyond being waste space 
 and unenclosed; Mercury, the god of thieves, rather light of head and 
 heels, moving nearest the sovereign orb as Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
 The outer families, or kingdoms, or satrapies of the sun, have their 
 ministerial moons in their little local self-governments. The comets 
 come occasionally among us, as commissioners or inspecting officers, for 
 special purposes of a Divine ruler elsewhere. These are all, or may be, 
 local self-governments, confined strictly to their own places and duties. 
 If we know it not to the contrary, let us judge it not. England is be- 
 come a nation of speechifiers and wrangling arg^umentators, without end. 
 The Government has struggled against accumulating work, and reasoned 
 itself into the conviction of a necessity of throwing off a great portion 
 of its duties into commissions and boards, &c. : — the Board of Taxes, 
 the Board of Control, and the uncontrolled and uncontrollable Board of 
 Poor-law Commissioners, who may possibly soon require a sub-board or 
 sub-committee on the indoor and outlying poor, and they may have to 
 be subdivided into the sick and able-bodied poor. We have not got to 
 
44 
 
 the end in that direction yet. We may, indeed, lose our patience, and, 
 considering our taxed ewpboard, exclaim with the Byronic satirist, 
 altering the verbal text : 
 
 "The House of Commoiis is but one great horde, 
 
 In duplicate, — ^the Borers and the Sored." 
 
 Local self-governments vaxy as much among themselves as country 
 clocks — all differing from each other, and all more or less from true 
 time. Let us take three instances in a Hne, in adjoining counties, 
 Birmingham, Wolverhampton, and Shrewsbury. Of the latter, we 
 need not say more than that it is under the most ill-judged 
 exclusiveness of John Frail, of unhappy W. B. and Derby memory. 
 In Wolverhampton, the incorporated Solans of the powers that be, have 
 recently undergone an awful smash, from some blundering illegalities, 
 and received the consequent punishment. Binningham is a noble town 
 of art and industry. If we take out- the ancient "hardware village," 
 and bring the suburbs together, it would make a splendid city, redolent 
 of a high degree of civilization; but the town is its workshop, with the 
 ffenii of art and design, — and the ways and means — the vade mecum. 
 
 In the early days of Hutton, the Birmingham historian, the bull- 
 ring, in bull-baiting times, was the centre, leading to Bull-street, as 
 one end, and Dale-end another ; when Lancaster-street was Walmer- 
 lane — ^Digbeth and dirty Derytend ta ilin g off into the country ; when 
 New-street and the new church (St. Phillips') were new; when 
 Suffolk-street (which, by-the-bye, has no brook at all, except when a 
 heavy thunder-storm improvises one, from the adjoining hill top,) was 
 the boundary of the whole Club-buildings, where the first investments 
 of the property of the young artizans were secured. Hutton's history 
 is a great novelty in historical records. He was a rough gem ; a piece 
 of native ware, neither gUt, plated, nor polished. Burke, in his days, 
 called Birmingham the "toy shop of Europe." It is now the national 
 armoury. Of late years it has been constantly on the strain to take the 
 lead, as the boasted ,"most radical town of England." See the speeches, 
 &c., of those gemini of reforms, (3-eorge Dawson and George Edmonds, 
 the Siamese twins and tutelary gods, who had a third aid in Mr. Tom 
 Attwood, a siucere and honest man, whatever his errors, who helped to 
 make an Unholy Trinity — one and indivisible. No one wiU deny the 
 great aids rendered to liberal government by these early reformers, 
 though they may have gone for too much. It cannot be expected that 
 Birmingham should immediately take rank as an inland capital, mth its 
 
45 
 
 amalgam of the moral sciences, and initiate a fature prestige of some 
 exceptional sub-parliament, -with, a minister of tlie interior, to which the 
 surplusage of imperial rule should he delegated, unless other command- 
 ing towns and cities should come into the circle of power, with a trotting 
 and itinerant Parliamentary session. The Hall of Social Science, with 
 its sections, presided over by coronetted and inchoate coronets of second- 
 rate men, cannot, as I%e Times admits, " teU us much that we have not 
 heard before." It is pleasing and gracious to praise men of all ranks 
 who are desirous of improving society ; but a presumptuous effort of ex- 
 clusiveness wiU always fail iu any enlightened age. This "Birmingham 
 Manifesto," as Mr. Smith calls it, wiU have fair-play, and so must 
 other places. But there is another manifesto, just put forth, that will 
 not suit "the Brums," as the Cockneys call them, namely, the new sis- 
 poiuted charter of the associated Reformers, — in which the five or^ix 
 pound rental sufErage is suffered to lie by. Here the complete Eeform 
 of 1858, which was looming on us, and "casting its shadotcs before," as 
 a specimen of the new liffMs which were dawning on us, has sloughed 
 off its proud flesh, and left the main "point" to a future day. This is 
 the result of some considerations recentiy mooted by many Eeformers, 
 who sincerely desire the advance of an intelligent people, and on which 
 I shall touch in a future letter. 
 
 The Old PoLiTioiAif. 
 
 THE NEWSPAPER, LETTER IV. 
 
 (Prom the Lvoerpool Albion. J 
 
 There is- a strong resemblance in the third and the fourth estates of 
 the country at the present time; the great increase of speakers and of 
 writers; the same increased proportion of random reasoning and rubbish. 
 A Prime Minister of England is an Atlas, with the four hemispheres on 
 his shoulders,— east, west, north, and south. The four quarters of the 
 world give him no quarter. He has a Cerberus, or Cerberi, requiring his 
 "sops" at a hundred gates; some to be fed to make them bark, and 
 some to keep them from barking. If we take a discursive view of some 
 things that are gradually growing or coming into pubhc importance, 
 we should name the fact of aU Western European questions turning 
 
46 
 
 round on conferences in Paris. There is now left tlie Eastern-compli- 
 cations of the Danuhian Principalities, without a Prince, who is, they 
 say, to be a Western Prince ; suppose Joachim Mtirat, under the segis of 
 the Czar and the Prench Emperor, with his protegi of Sardinia, and 
 with a constitution of s«Z/'-government, (a constitution e^est moi;J con- 
 tra, Prussia, Austria, England, and Turkey. This would leave the 
 Gband Sultan worse off than he would have been, in the Provinces, 
 under the exclusive protectorate of Russia, by treaty, and the govern- 
 ment of her Greek Church. Whether Eussia, with all her astute 
 diplomates, is using Prance in reference to the future, or Prance seeking 
 to use Eussia, will turn up by-and-bye — or what their joiut purpose. 
 Akin to this are some other considerations, in the following fore- 
 shadowings. 
 
 . It is the peculiar province and privilege of the Newspaper, iu its 
 proper acceptation, to deal with public men and the events of the day or 
 time passing, with the sarcastic and caustic, in the case of foUy and 
 blundering imbecility ; and the staple of the remainder with brevities, 
 short and sharp. The Times will often take up the craft of the lAner, 
 and give us an exordium of a third of a column before we know what 
 we are going to read about. Out of the sphere of politics, the wants of 
 the man of taste, the litterateur, and the interests of the arts and 
 sciences are to be consulted. The Newspaper has thus to dispose of 
 things so that, as Johnson said, "the busy may find time and the idle 
 patience." 
 
 It is the pleasure and one of the purposes of the age to cut up the 
 world; or project the cutting up of the chief Isthmi of the old and new 
 worlds, at the Delta of Egypt and at Panama, or the isthmus of Darien 
 — uniting the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean by the Red Sea, 
 and the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Prance wants the former and the 
 world the latter. This, as I have previously alluded to, iavolves an im- 
 portant problem as to England. In the first place, the speculation can 
 never answer, from its enormous expense, and the uncertainty as to the 
 existence of a granite sub-strata. The English capitalists will not be so 
 un-English as to follow mammon thus far. As long as European armies 
 have to sail round the Cape EngKsh India is safe. Some go-a-head 
 Yankees often go-a-head without looking a-head. A Prime Minister 
 frequently finds it expedient to look a-head without going. Palmerston 
 considers the Delta of Egypt a safer ally than Prance. 
 
47 
 
 Before the fleet of Bonaparte had been destroyed in the battle of 
 the Nile, the rising "great captain" of the Continent had well appreci- 
 ated — and a/ppropriated, in his imagination — Egypt as the finest position 
 of the world for a powerful Western European empire. Au rede, the 
 intelligent reader wiU well know how to dispose of French dreams about 
 the "Queen of the mediterranean," &c. Napoleon I., at Tilsit, claimed 
 the "West, Alexander I. taking the East. The latter, for a time, played 
 with the proposition ; but, reflecting that Napoleon would be running a 
 long parallel of power, by Egypt, contra his designs, over the East, in 
 Persia, the Caspian, Affghanistan, &c., he retracted, and his treaty on 
 the Raft, with its "secret article," went by the board, as the sailor says 
 and hence the ruinoiis campaign, to Napolean, of 1812. 
 
 The French "India of Africa" is a specimen of the ignis-fatmts of 
 false lights, — ^thrown to England as a lure. Once on a time a great 
 King of Egypt (Cambyses) had a vision of an African India, and sent 
 an immense army into the Lybian Deserts, " declaring war against the 
 south wind," and wanting to know who kicked up such a dust in the 
 world. But the fiery Simoom came, with its burning, towering, and 
 whirling columns of scorching sands, like the waves of a tempested ocean, 
 and, sweeping over the hostile host, engulphed them under mountains 
 and billows of the debris of the earth's surface, so that not a bone of the 
 skeletons of the grand army was ever traced. 
 
 V Afrique est nous! This was the exclamation of the French press, 
 when the small section of Algeria, on the North African coast, was taken. 
 England, being mistress of twenty times the territory on the south, 
 besides her settlements on the west coast, never had any braggart of the 
 press that cried out, Africa is ows! As well might the King of Dahomy, 
 who cuts off a Prime Minister's head three or four times a month, pro- 
 claim all Africa as belonging to the sovereign of the seven gold spitting 
 basins. An English Premier, in war, is always powerful, as in Adding- 
 ton's Administration, weak and contemptible, as it was, and when 
 England had near half-a-miUion of men in arms. Palmerston is the 
 reverse of the Addihgtons and Sidmouths. He is strong in the front, 
 being prepared at any time for the pas de charge; though he may be weak 
 on the flanks, which he can strengthen as necessity requires. The 
 Indian Government is an old curse of many years and many Govern- 
 ments; but, as Canning has not been recalled, any censure on him must 
 and ought to await an inquiry. To suppose that the Premier is bending 
 
48 
 
 to France is a great absurdity. Like the great Gamiiag of other days, 
 he has only to breathe a call on the democracy of the Continent, (as in 
 the case of the threatened "Holy Mliance,") and every royal tyrant in 
 Europe would tremble at the head of his legions. There is a motto of 
 an ancient French order of the Porcupine, — Cominm et eminus; here or 
 elsewhere, — armed at aU points. This is the position of England. 
 
 A nation that commands the sea, as Bacon said, can "take more or 
 less in foreign wars, as suits her:" she can lay an interdict on the com- 
 merce of the world, as in the case of the Orders in Council versus the 
 BerHn and Milan Decrees ; but we were placed hors de continent, and 
 France hors de ocean! France was necessary for us in the Crimea, but 
 after the surrender of the south of Sevastopol Louis Napoleon cried 
 " Enough P' and sought to make France the arbitress of Western Europe 
 in aU negotiations. The Western Alliance is now, brag as they may, 
 more necessary to France than to England. 
 
 Li The Times Paris correspondence, of Saturday, the 7th Nov., 
 there are some home thrust passages on the Vrmers, the Bilats, and 
 the Owietti de France, touching the bitter hostility to England of the 
 former, though we restored their Louis le desire, who was soon desired to 
 go back again; — among the Fusionists the Orleanists were Uke the 
 other branch, they could "neither reign nor fight," as Alexander I. 
 said of them. These modern boasters of a free press, are free only to 
 abuse England and her free institutions, while crouching and licking up 
 the dust {d la Swift J as they crawl to the foot of a throne and a 
 sovereign who is trampling down the expression of every free sentiment 
 in France ; and this pressg&ng, with the insidious palaver of shams of 
 friendship for England, dovetails menaces of a future struggle. It is 
 aU Uke Irish "thunder in disguise." 
 
 Nov. 16. The Old Politician. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 The DunciTLTiES op Loud Palmerston. — English Eesidents in Paris. 
 Paris Gossip. — ^Parisiak Ohit-Chat. — France. 
 
 (from OTJR PARIS CORRESPONDENT.) 
 
 To the Editor of the Cardiff cmd Merthyr Ouardian. 
 
 ^HJ, — There axe a number of writers in tlie journals, in London as 
 ■well as in the country, who do not appreciate the difficulties of amy 
 Ministry which has to deal with the House of Commons of the present 
 age. Prom the break-down of the ascendancy of the Conservative and 
 country party, on the separation of the late Sir Eobert Peel from his 
 adherents, there has been no Prime Minister equal to the task, till the 
 appointment of Lord Pahnerston. Lord Derby, Disraeli, &c., failed, — 
 the composite ministry of the Peelites and Liberals split and disinte- 
 grated as an heterogene combination, — Lord John Eussell was "not 
 strong enough for the place," as Punch told biTn at starting. The present 
 Parliament is but a type of the old one. It requires a statesman of 
 great coolness, judgment, and adroitness — brief, pithy, and decisive — 
 to manage such a jibbing team, where the fractious and crotchetty are 
 continually flinging themselves out of the traces — ^kickers that are not to 
 be coaxed into the harness, and who will not stand even the play of the 
 lash. It requires great courage, a firm hand, and good temper — the 
 
 G 
 
50 
 
 boldness and liberality of a Pericles with, the address and subtlety of a 
 Machiavel — to manage a House of Commons in. suoh an evil tempered 
 age as the present. Lord Derby kaows and has felt the difficulty, and 
 hence the general forbearance of his policy — not to interfere where he 
 cannot amend. Her Majesty knows her position and that of the country, 
 as weU as the Premier's difficulty ; she has to drive the three co-ordinate 
 Estates trnidem through crossing crowds, markets, and mobs, and knows 
 the necessity of a good leader. 
 
 It is on this necessity we would dwell, — ^the country being aflBicted 
 by dire dangers abroad, and threatened with further political distractions 
 and divisions at home. The latter wiU be as easily blown off as so much 
 surplus steam, by the safety-valves of the Commons. They may call 
 Lord Palmerston an " Old Tory," — as Grraham styled biTn,- — as Burdett 
 was called "Old Glory;" or they may call hi-m a cunning Conservative, 
 or what not; he is the master of the position under the testiness of the 
 times and the triluni plehis. He will go through the next session as 
 easily as he did the last. Indeed, until there can be a fusion of the best 
 and ablest men of the different parties, who, for a great and patriotic 
 object, wiU agree to sink and compromise any pectdiar pet views and 
 projects, ia promoting a common, intelligible, and intelligent constitu- 
 tional policy, it would be a folly to hazard any experimental ministry of 
 pure "Whiggism, Toryism, or Radicalism. 
 
 The next session may decide a great question as to the character of 
 the present Parliament, — or it may not. If the existing difficulties of 
 India continue and increase, and go into the coming year, while a great 
 part, or the whole, of the MiUtia have to be called out to do garrison 
 duties in most of our colonies, and every soldier is sent to the East, the 
 country wiU justify the Premeir in declining to divide the people with 
 the vexed project of more Reform. We shall have other and greater 
 duties to perform. Parties are already at work marshalling their ranks 
 for an anti-ministerial phalanx, under their pasteboard shields, for a 
 large extension of the suffrage and the ballot. Here they would be de- 
 feated, though they deluded numbers of the people with their plausible 
 sophisms. Mr. Bright is reckoned on as the man to wield the sword of 
 Leonidas in the pass of a Eeform Thermopylae against the Myrmidons 
 of the Minister. They wiU not muster the necessary three hundred,— 
 destined to fall in their glory. 
 
 We are told that the country is "sick of little men;" and this is 
 
61 
 
 very true, but it is what the "little ^en" tell us. The Birmingham 
 Journal of Saturday last had an anecdote of a man who had displayed a 
 very remarkable instance of honesty in some Parliamentary district — 
 observiQg that such a man "would infallibly be returned to Parliament 
 under a five pound suffrage." Now we no more doubt the infallibility 
 of a five pound suffrage than we do that of the Pope; but how an in- 
 fallibility is to be created out of the fallibilities of a class, the most easily 
 of all others to be led astray by any new cry, however absurd, and 
 always more or less differing with each other, it would require a casuist 
 to determine. They cannot agree about their Porcupine Charter, or 
 whether it is to be pentagonal or sexagonal, which they sit in conclave 
 about, on the Cardinal points. "We might as well talk about the in- 
 fallihility of country clocks, notorious only for differing from each other, 
 and all from true time. 
 
 Birmingham is a noble town — ^its very [suburbs would make a 
 splendid city, indicating the presence of wealth, intelligence, and 
 civilization, that cannot be represented by mere mechanism, art, and 
 manufactures, with their] working classes, an interest at most purely 
 local. It has never yet returned a Member of the empire and a States- 
 man. Mr. Bright might be one — ^in a pure Republic. Its Recorder is 
 a philanthropist and a lawyer — a very noble though rather strange 
 character in a world of mammon. We doubt whether Mr. Bright and 
 the Brums will hold on in harmony — ^through peace and war, sunshine 
 and storm. He is a thoroughly independent man, and must recollect 
 that England is not France, nor America. The heiress to the Throne of 
 a thousand years has to sustain one of the most noble and ancient of 
 monarchies. The citizen king and his Republican institutions, have had 
 their day as a political chimera. Une Ion Reine Cityoyenne wotild be some- 
 thing Kke an abstract Lady Mayoress. If Mr. Bright be a practical 
 politician, he cannot consort with George Dawson and G-eorge Edmonds 
 — ^his backer and bottle-holder. 
 
 London, Sep. 1, 1857. AJST OCTAGENARIAN. 
 
 ENGLISH RESIDENTS IN PARIS.— PARIS GOSSIP. 
 
 To the Uddtor of the Shrewshv/ry Chronicle. 
 
 Judging from the English newspapers, and fresh immigrants, I 
 should conclude that the difference of opinion is considerable between 
 home and foreign judgments. 
 
52 
 
 It is an ever-present and naderstood rule that the French govern- 
 ment has reserved questions, mth -which no newspapers are at liberty 
 to deal, except -without great caution and reservation. 
 
 This has no-w become especially the case as to the Italian Duchies. 
 After the avo-wed and proclaimed purpose of Louis Napoleon to sweep 
 away all Austrian rule in Italy, from the Alps to the Adriatic, and hand 
 over the little sovereignties to popular disposal in a new Italian king- 
 dom, the leading Prench papers, which are considered as the 
 government organs, stuck fast by this arbitration of French rule. The 
 PoAfs made a jeer of the idea of any of the old authorities ever returning 
 to their seats of power. On the contrary, the Patrie, since the Emperor's 
 distaste for revolutionary changes, has veered about, and contemplates 
 a restoration of the old order of things under a fiiendly compact. 
 
 When Count Cavour, the Sardinian minister, threw up his ofB.ce in 
 his disgust at the peace of Villafranca, where Victor Emmanuel was ex- 
 cluded; and even kept in ignorance of the nature of the preliminaries 
 of the treaty; but was appeased by the consideration that, he would have 
 a plenipotentiary at the Conferences at Zurich. If King Victor Em- 
 manuel were nobody at Villafranca, he finds himself represented by the 
 same person, at the S-wiss city, — ^if anybody can be said to represent 
 nobody. The Sardinian plenipotentiary has no potency. He gave a 
 direct refusal to some of the Austrian propositions, but in vain; lost his 
 temper and -with a jeer said, that when Austria had anything to give 
 away, she gave it to the strong ; and when she had to demand, she de- 
 manded it of the weak. This excitement, unfortunately, led to an 
 apoplectic seizure of the incensed ambassador. He found that France 
 and Austria reserved the exclusive right to dispose of the Duchies ; and 
 
 that Lombardy had to be saddled -with a heavy debt of its share in the 
 war. 
 
 This is the way of the world aU the world over, like the good old plan, 
 
 That those may take -who have the po-wer, 
 And those may keep -who can. 
 
 The paralysis seems to have extended itself to the Italian kingdom 
 of the future. 
 
 King Victor should recoUect that he has been defeated in his ag- 
 gressive measures of building himself up a kingdom in Italy on the ruins 
 of small estates which had been guaranteed by the great powers of Europe. 
 The dissensions in his o-wn cabinet and the despatches from Zurich, and 
 
63 
 
 the private conferences of Austria and Prance to Milan, &c., will soon 
 unfold the details and results of the Zurich conferences. 
 
 Count Momey's speech had its sensation of the day ; but all its 
 pacific pretence evaporated as the military concentration of forces on 
 Lille and Chalons indicate war on a large scale iu a dangerous quarter. 
 The count's speech may be torn to pieces by a very httle truth ; but let 
 it pass. He says that Louis Napoleon mshed the great European 
 powers to settle the affairs of Italy, when this said Emperor was the only 
 person who prevented it. He made the French empire a steam-tug to 
 tow the cock-boat of Sardinia into the harbour of peace, as a ship of the 
 line — an Italian Bang of the future — when the past conduct of Sardinia, 
 in its systematic agitations, was one of the questions to be discussed. 
 The English in Paris laugh aloud, at the count's statement that the 
 "French papers are at liberty to print and publish what they like;" it 
 should have added, "on one side of the question." 
 
 It is a current opinion among the English residents that Louis 
 Napoleon will in the end make Prince Napoleon a King of Italy. The 
 family have had a King Joe and a King Jerry ; Prince Nap will never 
 do, anywhere. Those who watched him as a royal Coslebs like his imcle 
 at Strasburgh, and his being hawked about at the Courts of St. Peters- 
 burg. Vienna, and BerHn, will give him up as anything convertible to 
 any purpose better than ^.figwramt at the Imperial Court. 
 
 The French manifesto to the Duchies will give rise to discussion in 
 European political circles. Louis Napoleon has unsettled everything of 
 the past, and refuses to settle anything present. 
 
 Eussia will now probably propose a regular European Congress on 
 the Italian difficulties. — (fkom oue own coebespondent.) 
 
 PAEISIAN CHIT-CHAT. 
 
 (ebom otjk PAEIS COEEB SPO NDE NT. ) 
 To the Editor of tJie Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 Sie, — It was said in the wars with Republican and Imperial France 
 that many letters of Paris correspondence for Enghsh newspapers were 
 written in a London garret; but stranger things than that are dome in 
 London. Now I do not write in a garret, and might write at the foot 
 of the Wrekin, for I have an old acquaintance in Paris with whom I 
 
54 
 
 have had intercourse for many years, in exchanging French and English 
 newspapers, and with whom I still hold occasionally some connection. 
 He moves often in a whispering circle where Paris gossip circulates, 
 which never appears in the papers. 
 
 Louis Napoleon may never have had a grandfather; hut why 
 should he disclaim an origin of which his uncle was the illustrious founder. 
 His uncle was for a many years styled "The Child and Champion of 
 Jacobinism. He has risen by and from revolution, and now he tells his 
 friends that he was placed between absolutism and revolution — ^that he 
 chose the former as the lesser evil. He might have added that he 
 practised it as the greater. The following phrase has been attributed 
 to hini : 
 
 " Je veux que tout le monde m' obeisse." 
 
 I take the French as I find it — it indicates his return from his pro- 
 positions of free institutions and reforms to absolutism — exhibiting him. 
 as a "moveable," as Catherine said of Petruchio: 
 
 Cats. Vliat moTed you here ? 
 Pet. My legs. 
 
 Oath. That which moved you here may move you hence : I saw you were a 
 moTeable. Be jogging while your hoots are green, &c. 
 
 The Emperor declares his absolutism, and the passage in question 
 amounts to this — I will or wish that all the world should obey or hend to me! 
 
 A great writer has said that more evils arise in the world from ab- 
 solutism than from revolution — as the latter correct themselves from 
 experience, while the former fetter the body and the free expression of 
 the mind. 
 
 Every day in Paris brings some new alarm. The papers take one 
 step towards peace to-day, and two steps towards war to-morrow ; but 
 the press of Paris is nothing better than the press-gang of the police. 
 On Saturday some event was anticipated from the conjunction of Mars 
 and Venus in June last, and that of Saturn and the earth on the 21st of 
 this month. 
 
 It has been well said that the end of the war is the beginning of 
 the Italian difficulty. Russia, Prussia, and England have commissioners 
 in Florence waiting for the decision of the councils ; Austria stands 
 aloof, contending for the necessity of a powerful army in her ItaUan 
 territories, and in an occasional war dance or quadrille in the quadrangle 
 of the four fortresses. She wiU insist on the old integrity of Modena, 
 
55 
 
 * 
 
 by force if necessary. But for our spell-bound neutrality we should now 
 join in a different conference to that in Zurich. 
 
 You wiU see the details of the review and the fite in the London 
 papers. Military men experienced melancholy feelings on observing 
 the four marshals go by, at the head of their corps, who had assailed 
 each other in the papers. Neil complaining of Canrobert, and Baraguay 
 d'HiUiers of Mac-Mahon, on some misdirections in the field — all now 
 understood to be owing to some contradictory orders given by the Em- 
 peror. Here is a general-in-chief who teUs us that at war it is the first 
 time he ever commanded an army in battle; so that he was bom a gen- 
 eral — nacetwr mm fit — ^nor fit in our vernacular. 
 
 The Emperor has recently met with some annoyances it is dif&cult 
 
 to deal vdth, and where the poUee are powerless. "When his route is 
 
 known in any direction, he is commonly received by the people, at 
 
 populace places, with more or less respect. At one place lately he was 
 
 received with — 
 
 One Tiniversal hiss 
 
 The Sbund of public scorn. 
 
 Somewhat , further on he was greeted with a Babel of whistles in 
 mockery of a flourish of trumpets. 
 
 The Paris public had to sustain the "terrible" letter copied by the 
 Presse, written by Gi^mier de Cassagnac, and that of Mazanni in the 
 Times — as far as the Times could be procured. The former places the 
 pillage of England in the back ground, the latter a treaty, offensive and 
 defensive, between France, Russia, and Austria, against England and 
 Prussia, in order to unperialize aU Europe, and shake hands with the 
 sovereign of the Celestial empire in Asia. Kossuth is now in Paris ; a 
 reserve for revolution if needed. ' 
 
 My Paris ioformant tells me that at the time of the Conspiracy 
 trials, when the military were red-hot for a war with England, the sub- 
 stance of a proclamation to the people of England was in partial 
 circulation, projecting a new government, and the total sacrifice of the 
 National debt and debtors; the institution of a graduated Land-tax, in 
 the ratio and on the principles of a Government Assurance Company. 
 Mazanni appears to have caught up some scraps of the then existing 
 design of the Emperor. Verily, the entente cordAale passes only out of 
 one mass of shadows into another. 
 
5.6 
 
 Paris has been fited and sated with glory, and good living, 
 dazzled to blindness with the different splendour of arms and iUnmin- 
 ations. The same may be said of Sardinia, and Turin and Milan. 
 
 The plenipotentiaries at Zurich have enjoyed very dining con- 
 ferences. 
 
 FEANCE. 
 
 (from oxtr own coeeespondent.) 
 
 The general opinion is so decidedly turned to the intention of the 
 ultimate seating Prince Napoleon on the throne of Btruria, that already 
 are the squibs flying about Paris, concerning the Court of King P^taud, 
 which it is anticipated that the royalty of P. P. wiU most assuredly 
 be. One of these lampoons is supposed to be written by an illustrious 
 hand, and is being sung with the utmost gusto by the malcontents, who, 
 fearless of gensdarmes and police, hum it even on the benches in the 
 Tulleries. It begins thus : — 
 
 Quand je serai Eoi d'Etnirie, 
 Je nagerai dans les plaisirs ; 
 
 Anna Des sera mon amie, 
 
 Edmond T mon grand visir. 
 
 The succeeding couplets illustrative of the peculiar tastes and habits 
 of the Prince, coiild not be inserted in an English newspaper, even 
 though printed in the French language. The conclusion is so stinging, 
 that it has caused an investigation to be made respecting the author, 
 and the result has been most unfortunately successful in fixing the com- 
 position upon one too near and dear to the subject of the pleasantry to 
 permit a single doubt of the knowledge of the case of which the writer 
 spealss. They say that the Prince is bitterley cut up about the matter, 
 and that it has already given rise to much schism and discussion within 
 the court circles. 
 
 Paris, Sep. 18. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 KxRKE "White and his Manes. — ^EuECTiosTEEEiNa Scenes. — The Pkess, 
 LiNcoufSHnuE. — The Peess, Shropshibe. — The Pbess, Staeford- 
 SHXRE. — The Peess. — Quick, the Comedian. — The Volitnteee 
 MiLiTAET Services. — ^The Eights of Editors. 
 
 A LITERARY ANECDOTE. 
 
 To the Editor of the Albion. 
 
 PE, — ^In picking up the remains of poor Wliite, I found a reprint of 
 his "Melancholy Hours." These "Hours" first appeared in the 
 Monthly Mirror, a highly respectable periodical, devoted essentially to 
 theatrical affairs. At that period, 1802, at the very commencement, I 
 was a general contributor to the work. In my leisure hours — -when writ- 
 ing a weekly leader for a county paper — ^with a few others, I became a 
 leading member of the Wolverhampton Idle Club, which was established 
 and of which some amusing reports were sent to the Stovr evening paper, 
 published for many years at Temple Bar. Taking up one of White's 
 Melancholy Hours, I began a series of Idle Hours in the same work. 
 Byron followed, immediately afterwards, with his " Houjs of Idleness." 
 I charged my melancholy friend, be he whom he might, with the foUy 
 of indulging a gloomy temperament. I told him, if he succeed in such 
 a pursuit, he could only achieve an "eminent insignificance," and that 
 melancholy was often nothing but "discontented idleness." 
 
 H 
 
58 
 
 These terms appear to have stung the unhappy youth, and in the 
 next paper, without mentioning the Idle Hours, he summoned the writer 
 before a Court of G-ods and Groddesses ; my papers were stigmatized, and 
 I am named as a Cit with the abuse of the divine Goddess of Melancholy. 
 The delinquent is only present as a nominis umbra, and is entitled to no 
 reply, or any defence by an advocate, and, accordingly, dismissed as a 
 vagabond of no rights, and subject to no penalty but silent contempt. 
 
 Poor White became a victim of his melancholy, when, if he had 
 spent his leisure hours in social society, however frivolous, he might 
 have overcome it. 
 
 In connexion with the name of the Monthly Mirror, I might call up 
 recollections of Macready, (the father of the celebrated Macready,) as 
 the manager of the Birmingham company, and the author of some good 
 farces; the Eoscius mania. Miss Farren, (afterwards the Countess of 
 Derby,) Eobert and Natt Bloomfield, the poetical Crispini and Capel 
 Lloft, their great patron and pufFin aster-general, who havej passed 
 quietly into oblivion in company, dragging their Mecenas with them. 
 But that would lead me into a wide, discursive sketch of the shadowy 
 past, foreign to the purpose of this anecdote of Eirke "White and his 
 Manes.* 
 
 Salop, August, 1859. I am, &c., 
 
 AN- OCTAGENAEIAN. 
 
 ELECTIONEEEING SCENES. 
 
 I know little of the elections of Stafford, beyond the Borough- 
 mongering days when Tom Sheridan came down to get into his father's 
 shoes, but found that he only got into his slippers ; Peter Einnarty 
 endeavoured to rouse the old Crispines from their leathery but in vain ; 
 he was baited Kke a bull at the bull-stake ; one dog set on him before 
 and another in the rear. Tom Sheridan commenced one of his speeches, 
 addressed to CHfford, the barrister, as follows: — "Stand forth Harry 
 Clifford, thou Uiik boy of the profession, &c." At the end of his speech 
 Clifford repHed, "go on with the poU." Clifford and his candidate, the 
 Welshman (PhilHps,) were rapidly winning without speeches, and 
 Sheridan losing with them. 
 
 * My communioationa to the Monthly Mirror had the signature of Cms. 
 
69 
 
 The principal ladies in Stafford canvassed for Tom, Kke the Duchess 
 of Devonshire for Fox. I addressed some verses to them which were 
 copied in the most fashionable magazine of the day. " Sweet Phillips" 
 as they called him, was returned, but never paid the sweet voices of his 
 constituents. 
 
 Stoke-upon-Trent came iu among the election boroughs since I re- 
 sided in the parish ; I was present at one contest, in which Alderman 
 Copeland was a candidate. His opponent, whose name I now forget, 
 published some learned nonsense on matters of science — on the internal 
 convulsions of the earth — or what the people translated into " Sucking 
 
 Earthquakes." 
 
 THE PEESS.— LIN00LN8HIEE. 
 
 I started a Newspaper in the city of Lincoln, when there was never 
 a one nearer than Stamford and Boston ; this was iu the year 1827 — 8. 
 In four years I had two opposition papers, one of which was edited by 
 Mr. "WUkins, afterwards Sergeant Wilkins. Both of them having 
 failed, I removed the publication of the Herald from Lincoln to Boston, 
 and in about twelve months, or little more, beat down the Boston 
 Gazette, estabhshed by Mr. Newcombe, the wealthy proprietor of the 
 Stamford, Lincohi, and Eutland Mercury, but it was a very feeble agent 
 of his liberal principles. 
 
 At the latter end of 1832, I , found it necessary to remove from 
 Boston to Stafford, and disposed of the interest of the Boston Herald, in 
 order to protect a large property placed iu danger by the death of an 
 intestate relative. 
 
 The Herald is now continued as the Lincolnshwe Herald and dates 
 its antiquity as far back as 1804. So far as this origin of the paper in 
 a different name and a distant date can serve the party they are welcome 
 to the advantage; few persons in Lincoln in 1828 could remember the 
 tory paper of 1804. A clergyman discovered a file of it and sent it to 
 me in which I found several of my articles copied from the London 
 Cowrier; among which, was a metrical sketch of a wine-bibber, drawn 
 in the different colours of the grape and spirituous liquors.* 
 
 THE PRESS.— SHEOPSHIRE. 
 
 The writer accepted the editorship of Eddowes' Journal, in 1845, 
 and conducted it with increasing success up to 1853, when it was 
 * These lines -will appear in the present yolume of metrical sketches. 
 
60 
 
 purchased by Mr. John Lloyd, who brought down an editor of the name 
 of Ackerman, and instead of introducing bim to the editor, the reporter, 
 and clerk, &c., turned him out "like a bag fox" as the people said; 
 from that time the writer has had nothing whatever to do with the 
 paper. The rest remains with the Shrewsbury Public, to whom alone 
 it continues an affair of any interest. The Newspaper Press never stood 
 very high in Shrewsbury, which may be accoimted for from different 
 causes : when in the possession of the late Mr. John Eddowes', and 
 under the management of Mr. Joseph Morris, a sincere and consistent 
 tory, it was highly respected. 
 
 Some papers had been commenced which degraded the press by 
 personalities. At the first election after the Reform BOl, "Grlorious 
 Salopia," as it was called, twelve entire conservatives were returned ; 
 from that period the liberals have been gradually gaining ground, this 
 has been attributed to the exolusiveness of the leaders of that interest. 
 
 Two cases of the neglect of the Press occurred in my time, which I 
 shall relate, in duty to the Reporters. It was on the occasion of the 
 Corporation Dinners, given by Mr. Groves, the Elder, and J. Minor, 
 Esq., to liberal minded gentlemen. Mr. Groves, the Elder, was a 
 straight-forward, clear-headed and practical man of business, who never 
 entered into subjects which he did not understand, and was not in any 
 way concerned in the mode of inviting the Press ; the regular invitations 
 had been sent out above a week, but the invitations to Editors, &c., were 
 not delivered till the mid-day before the dinner. The Editors and Re- 
 porters met, and agreed to return their cards ; they invited some personal 
 friends of the Press io a dinner with themselves, at the Plough Inn; 
 the senior Editor presided, and about fourteen gentlemen dined — this 
 was on the day of the Corporation dinner. No report whatever appeared 
 in the papers of what took place at the dinner given by Mr. Groves 
 though the Earl of Powis and other persons of distinction were present. 
 
 At Mr. Minor's Civic dinner, no dinner tickets for the Press were 
 issued at all, but three small tickets, written on, were sent to each of 
 the three papers, to admit the Reporters after dinner. The senior 
 Editor advised the Reporter of the Journal, and the two other papers 
 took the same course. A more liberal minded man than the late Mr. 
 Minor did not exist in the corporation ; his dinner was unreported like 
 that of Mr. Grove's, to his great annoyance. 
 
61 
 
 A dinner ticket to a Reporter does not paj' his labour, and one-iialf 
 of his expenses to the proprietor of any joiixnal. 
 
 The conduct of Mr. John Frail has been frequently and strongly 
 remarked \)n, but our opinion of him was, and is, that he was as 
 necessary to the conservative interest, as Coppock, and others of the like 
 to the liberal parties. If his conservative club was on too narrow a 
 basis, and conducted too exclusively, it was the fault of the principal 
 leaders ; it is always very difficult to get the aid of men of this de- 
 scription at contested elections, but some one must do it, and those who 
 appoint him ought to support him. The affair of Derby "W. B." and 
 the "safe man" was an unfortunate one for Mr. PraU, as the explosion 
 made him the great captain of corruption throughout the country. A 
 conservative club was perhaps an unhappy name for an association of 
 this kind ; the name of the old tory club at Derby, was that of " The 
 True Blue Club;"— at Liverpool, "The Constitutional Club." At the 
 latter place, a modern club was established under the term of "The 
 Concentric Society," where the parties have removed to different dis- 
 tances, but obeying a common centre of gravity. 
 
 THE PEESS.— STAFFOEDSHTRE. 
 
 The late John Mort, Esq., editor and principal proprietor of the 
 '■ Advertiser, on a recent occasion, before his death, received 
 a notice to send a reporter to that city to take the proceedings of a great 
 public dinner; it was stated in the notice that the dinner ticket would 
 not be given. Mr. Mort replied that he should not attend, nor send any 
 reporter from his office. 
 
 These great dining days of local managers, and the proceedings on 
 such occasions, are of no general public interest, like many of those re- 
 ported by the Times and other papers. 
 
 THE PEESS. 
 It may be expected that we (to use our editorial plural) should say 
 something about the press ; 
 
 "-Seen what we have seen," 
 "See what we see." 
 
 But the changes and the press, great as they may have been, are not 
 
62 
 
 equal to the changes in the state of society and jublie opinion. The 
 press, if dull at the beginning of the century, was the chorus, and ob- 
 served the great proprieties of social life. 
 
 The ignorance of the people and the clergy were the reverse of 
 what they are now. At the great dinner given at the City of London, 
 Tavern, the toast of the Liberty of the Press was given by a man 
 possessing a powerful voice, in the foUowiug language : — 
 
 The Liberty of tlie Press — 
 It is lite the air we breathe. 
 If we have it uot we die. 
 
 This man was a modern Stentor, like the Greek of that name, at the 
 siege of Troy, whose voice was said to be equal to that of fifty men. 
 This modern of the like qualification, sent the above toast thundering 
 into the ears of a thousand men, over their wine ; amid the "tables 
 roar," the gingle of glasses, and the explosions of Champagne corks. 
 The liberty of the Press is so like the air we breathe, that it may be 
 called the oxygen of the atmosphere ; it is the vital principle of free life, 
 less dangerous in expression than when suppressed. 
 
 The ancients had two monsters — ^Argus, with his hundred eyes, 
 and Briareus, with his hundred hands ; but the liberty of the Press is a 
 ffiant of unknown power, which has thousands of eyes, and tens of 
 thousands of hands; with as many tongues as were heard at the tower 
 of Babel, where men confused, their dialects and confounded the 
 dialectitions. 
 
 A writer on the continent has told us that the liberty of the Press 
 wlU be for good or for evil; we say it must be for good if knowledge be 
 power. Blackwood has told us that knowledge is not vii-tue; the clrrist- 
 ian philosopher says that virtue is enlightened self-interest, so that when 
 nations do not see their own interests there must be a deficiency in their 
 knowledge. 
 
 The privileges of the people are the inheritance of the people : many 
 years ago when some duU proser in the Commons was condemning the 
 jurisdictional public meetings of Freeholders as disturbing the peace of 
 counties, Windham exclaimed "perish the peace of counties, but let the 
 privileges of the people live for ever-." 
 
 Mr. Brougham once in speaking of the free institutions of England, 
 said, "The English people were the noblest society of freemen in the 
 world, and he would rather perish with their institutions than survive 
 them." 
 
63 
 
 Eaxl Grey once said that he was prepared to perish with his order. 
 The liberty of the Press may have its evils, as every hiunan institution 
 has, but they are only what the shades are to Kght, proving the true 
 uses of Hght, and in no cases more than in this. 
 
 QUICK, THE COMEDIAJST. 
 This fine sample of old comedy, of the seventeeth century, made a 
 starring tour in 1805, among the country theatres, and played sis 
 nights in Wolverhampton. He remained ia that town for two months 
 afterwards jfrom his love of Wolverhampton ale, which then might have 
 challenged the kingdom. He had a large cask brewed, which he sent 
 off to Earl EitzwLUiam, as a present. I used to meet him every evening, 
 at the select society of the Wolverhampton smokery, consisting of the 
 elite of the gentlemen and tradesmen of the town, — among whom were 
 Eichard Fryer, Esq., the first member of the borough, and Mr. Eiohard 
 Evans, of the Lion Hotel, — (though they never smoked.) Mr. Evans 
 was one of the largest coach proprietors on the road branching off at 
 Wolverhampton to Manchester and Liverpool. Mr. Quick very fre- 
 quently amused the company with anecdotes of the stage, which were 
 racy of the lamp, but not worth repeating here. Suett had been the 
 low comedian of former days. 
 
 VOLUNTEEE MILITAEY SEEVICES. 
 
 The first volunteers at the close of the last century, adopted a blue 
 uniform. Captain Elutterbuck had a small corps at Wolverhampton. 
 I have seen them practice street firing in retreat, the rear ranks coming 
 to the front in succession, firing and then dividing in sections and re- 
 treating on the flanks. I have seen them muster on the parade when 
 the officers were nearly as numerous as the rank and file. On the threat 
 of an invasion we had a rush of near half a million of volunteers ; I 
 threw myself into the ranks of 800 at Wolverhampton, with Sir John 
 Wrottesley (late) Lord Wrottesley, as the Colonel. The government 
 was so oppressed with numbers, that they could not accept of our ser- 
 vices. This unmanageable and unmilitary mass gave place at length 
 to the Local Militia, of which five regiments of one thousand each were 
 raised by ballot in Staffordshire. I was offered a company at the insti- 
 tution of the force by Earl Talbot, the Lord Lieutenant of the County. 
 
64 
 
 This was in, or about, the year 1808, and we had a month's permanent 
 duty annually, till the year 1813. Staffordshire had at the same time, 
 two battalions of the old MUitia on permanent service, and one thousand 
 yeomanry cavalry, making near eight thousand well deciplined men of 
 that county alone. I am, as far as I can trace, the only officer now 
 living of the central regiment. I retained my sword, a couple of the mess 
 wine decanters, and a dozen ivory-haffced knives and forks, aU cut and 
 engraved with the name of the corps. Such was the military spirit of 
 the nation at the threat of the great Napoleon, the First, who shrunk 
 from a contest with the armed nationality of England. 
 
 As an instance of the spirit of the Local Militia of those days, I 
 might quote the following, which is copied from a circular letter of 
 Quarter Master Drewry, under date Dec. 14th, 1813 : — "The officers of 
 the Central Staffordshire Eegiment of Local Militia, are particularly re- 
 quested to meet at the Mess-room on Thursday, the 23rd of December 
 instant, at 12 o'clock at noon, for the piu'pose of taking into consider- 
 ation the expediency of volunteering their services, under the provisions 
 of the Act of Parliament recently passed, to enable His Majesty to 
 accept the services of the Local Militia out of their respective counties. 
 By order of 
 
 Lieutenant Coloitel Chetwv:nd. 
 Joshua Drewry, Quarter Master. 
 Head Quarters, Stafford, Dec. Hth, 1813. 
 0. H. M. 8. 
 Captain Amphlett, C. S.L.M., Stapfohd." 
 
 A resolution of the copy to the above effect was passed with 
 
 enthusiasm. , 
 
 THE EIGHTS OE EDITOES. 
 
 When I left the Shrewsbury Journal in 1853, the new proprietor 
 and the late proprietress had a notion that editors might be turned off or 
 taken on like journeymen prijiters, and that there was but little dis- 
 tinction between editors and imps. I therefore gave my particular friend 
 Henry Keate, Esq., a cwrte llanclw to go and settle (vith the new "Sole 
 proprietor and editor" as he announced himself to the general post office. 
 Mr. Eeate received the sum of £60 as a joint balance due, when I might 
 have demanded a very different sum; my desire was only to get away 
 from persons who sought to overrule that which was common in Custom, 
 courtesy, and law. 
 
GHAPTEE IX. 
 
 CoirCLlTSION OE THE ChTTECH AND KiNa ElOTS, BlUMINGHAJI. PuBLIO 
 
 Charactebs at the Close of the Last Cbntitry. — GoD'wnsr. — 
 G-od'win's Female Oharactees. — Holcboft's Letter. — The News- 
 paper, Letter on Christmas, &c. 
 
 ^EING in Birmingham about two years ago, I availed myself of tke 
 opportunity of paying a promised visit to my friend Henry Bynner, 
 Esq., 45 years British consul at Trieste, then residing at Moseley. I 
 had not been there, nor on the road thereto, since the memorable Church 
 and King riots. Being a fine day, I walked over a distance of between 
 three and four mUes. I was struck with admiration at the number of 
 noble edifices which flanked the road on both sides, more or less; I 
 walked on to the old village, to see how far I could trace the where- 
 abouts of a memorable scene, which with my young companions I had 
 witnessed. I could not exactly satisfy myself; there was a high wall 
 and some well grown timber on the other side, which I thought was most 
 likely to be the spot; I walked into the old village Inn and called for 
 coffee and a cigar, but failing in the cigar, I had recourse to the pipe. 
 I had some conversation with mine host, and asked him, after a little 
 delay, where the village horse-pond was? The man stared, and said he 
 never knew, neither could he beHeve there ever had been a horse-pond 
 ia the vUlage. I replied there was one the last time I was there ; he 
 then asked how long it was since the last time I was there, I rephed 70 
 
66 
 
 years! (another stare.) He tlien saidj perhaps it was at the "Priestley 
 Eiots." My answer was "they were not caUed the Priestley Eiots" 
 but the "Church and King Eiots" in other days. 
 
 He then said that there was a very old man living near him, who 
 was on his death-bed and unable to see any body, or he would have been 
 very glad to have some conversation with me about the "riots." 
 
 I then proceeded to state to the worthy boniface, that at the riots, 
 there was a gentleman's cottage residence which had been sacked and 
 pillaged but not burnt, on the right hand side of the road; a great num- 
 ber of books had been brought out and thrown into a pond of water on 
 the opposite side, tiU the pond swelled over its banks and covered the 
 road. I and my companions with other youngsters walked over them 
 almost dry-shod. 
 
 I picked up one book in some novel form, which I opened; the 
 inside leaves proved to be a small Atlas, I kept this book for many years, 
 but ultimately lost it. I then parted with mine host, saying, "if I 
 should call again at the end of another 70 years, I should probably find 
 you missing as well as the horse-pond." He laughed and said "if you 
 do find me here I'll stand a bottle." 
 
 I then waited upon my ancient friend, Mr. Bynner, and sent in my 
 card; he came into the parlour to me; we had not met since the days of 
 our early youth, and were personally as great strangers, as any two men 
 could be. He had a very large grey beard. I first recognised his voice 
 as we went into conversation on past times, and on the then state of 
 Italy, and the opinion of Q-erman politicians, who he said thought very 
 lightly of OUT free institutions. I had then to be introduced to his wife, 
 a very agreeable and youthful lady. 
 
 He then showed me his library, a very splendid one, and said he 
 had a very large and costly library at Trieste, which he meant to dispose 
 of We walked with his wife in his elegant garden, at one of the noble 
 edifices of the terrace, and had many agreeable conversations on our 
 youthful days, and his connection with my elder brother, as they kept 
 a joint academy, at one time in or near Cherry-street, Birmingham. I 
 had ordered the last omnibus to caU at his house, when, shaking hands 
 with him and his lady, I left them, despairing of ever seeing him any 
 more. He had then attained the age of 89 years. 
 
67 
 
 PUBLIC CHAEACTERS AT THE CLOSE OF THE LAST 
 CENTUET. 
 
 PIEESON, GOD"WIN, HOLCEOFT, &C. 
 
 What Voltaire and Eosseau did in bringing about the French 
 revolution, a few public writers did more philosophically in promoting 
 reforms in England, — ^reformers at the end of the last century may be 
 named as placed in three classes; the first were a few violent men, dem- 
 igogs and demirepts, wlio sympathise with, the double dyed French red 
 republics, and who grasped at any chance of redeeming themselves from 
 obscurity, in scenes of oonfasion and disorder : we pass by these. 
 
 The first gentleman who gave his name to the public in a pam- 
 phlet on subjects of reform, was John Pierson Esquire, afterwards a 
 barrister on the Oxford circuit, and latterly, judge advocate of Calcutta; 
 I knew him. personally in "Wolverhampton, and had met him occasion- 
 ally at the social board of the late Sir Charles "Wolesley, Bart., when 
 lie lived at tbe Park-house, situated closely on Cannock Chase, on the 
 edge of the Wolesley estate; but we neither of us agreed in the wild 
 opinions of that gracchus of the Baronetage: I also once met there 
 Orator Hunt, as he was proceeding to Manchester, a few days before 
 what was called the Manchester massacre. 
 
 Li the trading and middle classes of society reformers were few and 
 far between, but a few literary men had introduced liberal principals 
 into works of imagination. Bage, the anonymous novel writer, we have 
 named elsewhere, Holcroft's Hugh Trevor, in the novel of that name 
 was probably a type of the writers own character; he seems to have 
 been bred iu the stables of the trainers of race horses, where he picked 
 up that knowledge of the turf which he displayed ia the character of 
 Goldfinch in the drama of the road to ruin; when I had some corres- 
 pondence with him on contributing to his Theatrical Eecorder about 
 the year 1804, he then used an amanuensis ia his letters, and a man 
 of strict moral character though he had been one of the party of Hardy 
 and Co., who were indicted for constructive treason; from some cause 
 or other he was not tried, he had prepared a written defence, which he 
 has since published and which his said to be a model of English compo- 
 sition. 
 
68 
 
 GODWIN. 
 
 But very few persons can now be found who ever read or re- 
 member anything of Godwin's "Political Justice," a work which sought 
 to disorganize the whole social system of society, by dispensing with the 
 natural affections and the ceremonials of marriage rights; Mary Woolsten- 
 croffc the Authoress of the "Eights of "Women," was captivated by this 
 sophism, and prepared to take a commentary flight in the while's of 
 space, or in her own language to "fly off in a Tarigent to catch the 
 celestial fire of reason:" they loved and lived together, with Plato for 
 their priest. Mrs. Siddons and several ladies of distinction continued tp 
 visit Mrs. Godwin, as they would call her, insisting on it that their 
 pretended system of love, was an entire romance; Godwin's strong sense 
 soon convinced him that his' social principles were false and anti-social, 
 and that his view of human life was the fatal error he had contracted ; 
 that there was no seat at his malthusian table of justice for the weak in 
 mind or body, who were the waste and surplus of humanity ; he publicly 
 recanted such principles, on the consideration that it was only through 
 the influence of natural affections and charitable Institutions ; that all 
 persons were or coidd be taken care of. The platonic pair were then pub- 
 licly married; the high born Dames then discontinued their visits to 
 Mrs. Godwin, because she 7iad been a bad woman, they ceased to visit her 
 in fact because she had become a good woman; who shall blame these 
 ladies! When females fall away from the code of honour, the error is a 
 fatal one ! vestigia nulla retrorsum. 
 
 GODWIN'S FEMALE CHAEACTEES. 
 
 We had expected to produce a copy of Godwin's letters alluded to 
 elsewhere. The gentleman to whom I lent it to was John Gibbons, 
 Esq., who lived at TettenhaU. I have not been able fo trace his resi- 
 dence of late years. 
 
 Godwin's taste in ladies, led to women of strong mind, (not often 
 the case with Uterary gentlemen.) Living with Mary Woolstencroft, like 
 Adam and Eve they might 
 
 Solve high dispute 
 With conjugal caresses. 
 Adam was a thriving wooer in paradise, when first, 
 
69 
 
 Aocomplislied Eve, with tremtUng love and fear 
 Open'd lier radiant eyes on Adam and the sphere. 
 
 The lovers in Bage's novels treated courtsliip as an art in bringing 
 out the sympathies of ladies, and thus "maJdng love without talking 
 ahout it." Holcroft and Bage were both fond of making their gentle- 
 men lovers well made for the pugilistic ring, if needful. 
 
 SOCIETY IN STAPFOED. 
 
 During the first twelve or fourteen years of the present century, 
 private society in this town took an elevated distinction in the county. 
 There were six ladies who were styled the illustrious groupe, and their 
 elegant hospitalities attracted general notice; there was also a galaxy of 
 other beauties. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kemble generally paid some of these ladies 
 an annual visit; but William. Horton, Esq., the prince of presidence, 
 and amphitryon of the borough, was the marked man of the county 
 town, and received all the wits and bright spirits of the age, coming in 
 the train of Sheridan : — ^viz., Tom Sheridan, Major Downes, Peter Fin- 
 narty, &c. Horton was the presiding genius of the house ; his brother 
 John was the Bacchus and custos of the Wine closet, and sang an ex- 
 cellent song ; he sang the songs of Chandler, the poet of the town, who 
 was also an artist and composer. There are two of Chandler's songs 
 frequently heard in the present day,, viz. : — 
 
 Adieu my native land, adieu ; 
 and the Beggar Girl 
 
 Over the mountains and over the moor, &o. 
 
 [The author 'on writing to Holcroft, commended the chaste and delicate manner in 
 which he delineated his female characters, in contradistinction ta those of Godwin.] 
 
 TU following is a copy ofSoloroffs reply: — 
 
 Sm. — ^AU good men are desirous of the approbation of the good, 
 have end lavoured, and will continue to endeavour to observe the high 
 opinion you are pleased to entertain of me. Information concerning any 
 
70 
 
 thing tliat is remarkable and theatrical, vnR he truly acceptable to me, 
 and mil receive my sincere thanks; I could only -wish it might not be 
 verbose, and that more worthy to be communicated to the public. The 
 license you kiudly give is liberal and worthy an ingenious mind, but in- 
 deed on no other terms should I dare accept your favour. You have 
 no doubt read, Sir, on the cover of No. I,, that as I give my name to 
 the pubKc, to whom I make myself accountable, my correspondents also 
 must be pleased to make the same pledge, should any article they send 
 become questionable, or be thought offensive. 
 
 I am, Sir, with thankful respect, 
 Jan. 24th 1805. T. Holcroit. 
 
 To J. Amphlett, Esq., "Wolverhampton, 
 
 Staffordshire. 
 
 THE NEW8PAPEE. 
 
 (From the Liverpool Albion, j 
 
 "I sit down," as some writer has said, "to write what I think, not 
 to think what I shall write." It is the usage of the "newspaper," in 
 going into the Christmas festivities, to adjourn the serious on any sub- 
 ject beyond the usual church services of the day, — the remainder being 
 a "rejoicing" of the season's hospitalities to kindred meetings of families 
 and friends, to rejoice at the Christian dispensation that brought down 
 from a gracious Providence the message of "peace on earth and good- 
 will towards man." One first consideration is, and ought to be, the 
 gloom, sorrow, and destitution that await the many thousands of unem- 
 ployed men in the manufacturing towns, — coarse fare, and an uncer- 
 tainty of that, even in limited quantities, is a hard fate ; and the 
 miUionaires must unstring their purses. Some healthy support to the 
 hands that weave, hammer, and shape their princely fortunes is as much 
 their interest as the stamina and bodily energies of the soldier are to the 
 general that leads them to battle. 
 
 The writer may, perhaps, previously indulge in a gaUimaufry of a 
 few scattered observations on the "short Commons" allowed by the 
 Government to the shadow or shape of the Opposition, — 
 
 If shape it may be called that shape hath none 
 Distinguishahle in member, joint, or limba. 
 
71 
 
 The money market is said to have led to these few days' work before 
 the holidays, and yet the Indemnity Bill of the Bank was safe at any 
 time. The encounter of the Government with Lord Derby and Mr. 
 DisraeK was only a sparring-matoh in the gloves, — or a bout with the 
 foils, — ^Dizzy being cunning of fence, and having his match in the Pre- 
 mier, whether in parry or tierce. The bottle-holder of other days is 
 himself an adroit stopper. One is almost inclined to beheve that a main 
 object of this "something short," from Lord Palmerston, (as the old 
 coaches of the four-horse whips had it,) was intended to let the dreamers 
 of great reforms know that he was the Reformer . As they had mostly 
 gone to sleep, and there were no "flapperers" of Swift's creation to keep 
 them awake, in doors or out, he, their leader, boldly came forward, and 
 was prepared to "go into the franchise!" It was a mUitary alerte! All 
 is bustle in Mr. Bright' s camp. BaUot must be up and doing, or the 
 box will be boxed out. 
 
 The Christmas mince-pies are in the ovens; the "old October, 
 brown and bright," is on tap, and pronounced of most excellent quality. 
 The old Saxon wassail bowl is prepared, for the old toast, Ses hod, 
 "Health to you." The yule log is ready. Yule does not mean Christ- 
 mas log, as is understood in the north of England. It is the Saxon word 
 yehtil, a block of wood for fuel, and hence, probably, our verb to hew 
 wood, or hewn, as the pronunciation leads the corruptions of language. 
 Ale is the true vinum Britannicum, and old ale the darling of the poor 
 labourer, as is pretty strongly set forth in the old song : 
 
 Let back and side go bare, go bare. 
 
 And head and feet go cold ; 
 But belly, God send ih.ee plenty of fare, 
 
 Of jolly good ale and old. 
 
 The ' Totallers and "Total Abstinence" Club of slanderers, who charge 
 temperate drinkers with being responsible for murders committed by 
 persons who took example for drinking from their defence of it, may 
 possibly consider that Providence created barley for nothing but pigs' 
 meat. But the worthy baronet, Sir John, of that ilk, found a better use 
 for it. In former times it was good human food for Sovereigns, and 
 
 When good King Arthur ruled this land, 
 
 He was a jo-rial King ; 
 He stole three pecks of barley meal 
 
72 
 
 To make a bag pudd-»y .' 
 He put into it great lumps of suet, &o. 
 
 We read in the Evangelist of the feast of the "five barley loaves and 
 two fishes." Malting mnst be one of the deadly sins; and malsters 
 will be charged with having stolen their fires for the heat of forcing 
 
 the grain from , the opposite place where Prometheus pilfered his 
 
 fire-light; and that drunkenness is the vulture that is gnawing the Uver 
 of the sot, chained to an alehouse corner. So be it ; it disturbs not the 
 temperate man who appreciates the Divine goodness in the enjoyment 
 of the mercies He sent. He clothed this planet in beauty, and en- 
 dowed it with a boundless munificence more than adequate to all that 
 man requires in food, fael, and raiment. 
 
 I have now little to do but invoke a benison on the season ; and a 
 inerry Christmas to all men and "pretty girls and trup" who have an 
 eye to the "missle bough." The "Missletoe Bough" of the popular 
 song is considered an error as to the term, — the last syllable, toe, mean- 
 ing the bough. To be merry and wise is the maxim of good livers who 
 study the art of life. Her Majesty has ordered a sermon to be printed, 
 which was preached by her chaplain ; the subject being "The Taking 
 Care of the Body a Christian Virtue." Nothing plainer. Tou must 
 take care of yourself if you wish to take care of others, — ^that is, keep 
 sober; and is as much a Turkish virtue as a Christian one. 
 
 The Old Politician. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Nevspapee. — Comets. — Politicai ErMouus and SpEotnDATioisrs 
 OF THE Week. — The New MunsTET. — ^A Glimpse of the Openino of 
 THE First Session of a New Paeiiament. 
 
 To the Editor of the Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 ^IB, — Between the habits of credulity and exaggeration in the English 
 people, there are few subjects more misrepresented than that of 
 comets. In speaking of the comet of 1811, one person who was young 
 at that period, who said he remembered it, and heard of others who saw 
 it, said that "the star (nucleus) was as large as a round table, a yard 
 across, with a tail a hund/red ytwda long!" This, when the nucleus was 
 only the size of a common fixed star, and the tail might be thousands of 
 miles. The distance and diameter of any such object which appeared a 
 yard across, or in diameter, might be measured with the same accuracy 
 as that of the moon. Astronomers teU us that when they can raise a 
 second, or the three thousand sixth hundreth part of a degree, on any 
 fixed star, they possess the base of an angle which brings the star with- 
 in the calculation of parallax. 
 
74 
 
 I was an early student of astronomy at the age of seventeen, and 
 between 30 and 40 years of age in 1811, and was a careful watcher of 
 the comet of that year; but it had no comparative extent in briUiance, - 
 breadth, or length with this^ comet of 1858. There is a very good por- 
 trait of it in Phillips's "Wonders of the Heavens," and in "Time's 
 Telescope," as well as others in the most monstrous forms, — as flaming 
 swords, with the hilts Kmned in fire ; sabres, accurately outlined, with 
 the cross as the handle, &o. — all drawn on the vaiu imagiuations of other 
 days, when comets, from their "horrid hair, shook pestilence and war." 
 They were all "monstrous and prodigious things ;" some were pictured 
 in curling flames — 
 
 "There with long bloody hair, a blazing star 
 Threatening the ■world with famine, plague, and war." 
 
 Lebientiz, a Polish writer, speaks of a comet, which "came out from an 
 opening in the heavens, like to a dragon with blue feet, and a head 
 covered with snakes." 
 
 Several stars were distinctly seen through the tail of the comet of 
 1811. The comet of 1825 had a bright nucleus and a beard, with a 
 streaming head of fiery hair. The word comet signifies hair rather than 
 a tail, unless an old-fashioned pig-taU. The comh for the hair is de- 
 rived from it. Hence the constellation of Coma Bereniees, or Berenices 
 hair, which is seen streaming in the celestial map of the northern 
 hemisphere in the celestial globe. 
 
 Comets are thus described by Savage, the poet : — 
 
 In fancy's eye encount'ring armies glare, 
 And sanguine ensigns wave unfurled ia air ! 
 Hence the deep vulgar deem impending fate, 
 A monarch ruined or unpeopled state. 
 Thus comets, dreadful visitants, arise, 
 To them wild omens, science to the wise ! 
 These mark the comet to the sun incline, 
 "While deep-red flames around its centre shine ! 
 "While its fierce rear a winding tail displays, 
 And lights all ether with the sweeping blaze ! 
 Or when, compelled, it flies the torrid zone, 
 And shoots by worlds unnumbered and unknown : 
 By worlds, whose people, all aghast with fear, 
 May view that minister of vengeance near! 
 Till now, the transient glow, remote and lost, 
 
75 
 
 Decays in darkness 'mid involving frost ! 
 Or when it, sunward, drinks rioli beams again, 
 And bums imperious on th' ethereal plain, 
 The learn' d one, curious, eyes it from afar. 
 Sparkling through night, a new illustrious star. 
 
 Johnson's Life of Savage is said to be his masterpiece, in his "Bio- 
 graphy of the Bards." Savage was himself a cometary son of the 
 noble family of Eivers, wild and wandering — shot from his sphere.' 
 Byron describes hitn thus : — 
 
 "The time arrived, when he became, 
 A wandering mass of shapeless flame ; 
 "Without a sphere, without a course." 
 
 We live in cometary times: Disraeli was a comet in his way, with 
 a bright nucleus and a straggling head of hair, a la Punch. Lord 
 Palmer ston and Lord John Russell were the canis major and canis minor 
 of the Liberals, — the minor unfixed in his finality. The major remains 
 the watch-dog of his party, vdth many sad dogs barking at him. These 
 two great " outs" represent the mastiff and poodle in their proportions, 
 but the former is expected to prove a retriever and recover the "lost 
 game." We have members of the house in the zodiac, but I will not 
 now particularize them. Alpha. 
 
 POLITICAL EUMOUES AJSTD SPECULATIONS OF 
 THE WEEK. 
 
 To the Uditor of the Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 Sni. — The rumours current at the end of last week, of Lord John 
 EusseU booking an outside place on the Derby DiUy, passed unnoticed 
 by the accredited organ of Woburn Whiggery and the Morning Post. 
 Instead of a party imion it wotild have been a regular smash of both. 
 
 A facetious London correspondent tells the public that if Dr. Berkley, 
 who "believed in nothing" (1758,) where alive now, he would believe 
 in everything, as we have a ministry that will promise everything. It 
 is not true that Dr Berkley "believed in nothing" — ^he believed in the 
 existence of spirit, but denied the existence of matter or substance, of 
 which, he said, we know nothing but its property of repulsion and 
 attraction. Hence the lines of Byron : 
 
1& 
 
 ■When Dr. Berkley Said there was no matter, 
 And proved it, it was no matter what he said. 
 
 It was Hume who broached the doctrine of universal nonexistence. 
 The millenium is looming on us. An Italian season and summer, a 
 golden harvest, and autumn of unparaUeled abundance in fruit; the 
 comet* and electric cables, with their lustrous retinues of light and 
 lightning conductors circumnavigatiug the earth;— aU these combined 
 with the Tories going a-head of the Liberals, whUe the latter are invok- 
 ing Lord Palmerston to put on the drag, make something "prodigious!" 
 
 When MUner Gibson, with his fuU length reformers, threw the half 
 lengths on their backs, as the fishermen do the turtles on the sands, 
 knowing they cannot then crawl away whUe their aids go for the con- 
 veyances to pick them up, he little thought of the long interregnum .that 
 was to foUow in going frOm the do-littles to the do-nothings— promises 
 excepted. 
 
 To come back to the capsized (liberals, or) turtles on the sands, 
 they have nothing to do but to wait for the return tide to be set afloat, 
 and it wiU come with a heady current and extraordinary force. 
 
 The French minister, M. Persigny, is said to have met Lord Pal- 
 merston at OhantiUy, where Lord Cowley was residing for a time. Their 
 confabulations would have more meaning than those of Lord Palmerston 
 and the Emperor. The man of reputed "inscrutable purposes" would 
 be a "Beading made- easy" to the veteran statesman. His maze of 
 indirections aU poiating one way, but insidiously tending another, can 
 puzzle none but sciolists. After the exploding Birmingham grenades, 
 the conspiracy trials in England arose, as to whether in our refage for 
 foreigners our English law "elevated assassination into a doctrine." 
 This could be only met by referring the question to the crown lawyers, 
 whose report went to show that conspiracies in England for the assassi- 
 nation of foreigners were punishable by our laws, hence the necessity of 
 the trials — commenced under the Liberal Government and carried on by 
 the Derby Government; the English jury, either not believing the wit- 
 nesses, or refusiag to convict — shrinking from an unpopular verdict. 
 
 * A journalist in a neighbouring coimty compares the comet to a sky rocket, — 
 " discharged by an Almighty hand.' ' It were something akin to the bathos and a bad joke 
 in supposing the Creator to be experimenting in pyrotechnics, and launching a rocket — 
 
 " On its long travel of a thousand years." — 
 as a missile, carrying wonder and amazement into distant starry regions thousands of 
 millions of miles away. A philosophical son of Jonathan Bull of the last century, in his 
 trading spirit, "guessed," that comets were contracting hauliers "of fuel to the sun, to 
 enable it to keep up a great bonfire — a Yankee stride from the sublime to the ridiculous. 
 
77 
 
 During these discussions, at an eaxly period, the intemperate letter, 
 or dispatch, of Walewski appeared, and had Lord Palmerston replied to 
 it in the same reckless spirit, the two nations might have been precipit- 
 ated into a war before they understood the real question at issue. The 
 French emperor would soon be aware that it would not do for him to 
 hazard a war with England on a mere assumption. The affair blew over 
 and Disraeli's pretence of rescuing England from a war at the "12th 
 hour" was a perfect delusion. The continuance of peace had been made 
 a question of the sofa, and the boast of the Derbyites had nothing to do 
 but sit down on the cushions prepared for them. "There will yet be a 
 re-hearing of the case, and the house will 
 
 Call up Hm wlio left untold 
 The story of Camtuscan told. 
 
 An English gentleman, who has lately visited Metz, the capital and 
 frontier town or fortress in the department of the Moselle, has shown 
 the immense preparations for war on a large scale going quietly on 
 there; while the sop of Oherbourgh was thrown to the gobe-mouches. 
 There Prance is prepared for a sudden burst, (a la Napoleon I.) on 
 Antwerp and Belgium, thence on the Rhine, and Prussia. How to get 
 up a war in Europe without quarrelling with England is the Napoleonic 
 problem; and the Preneh papers have kindly told us that Oherbourgh 
 and Preneh steamers will apprise us how necessary for the security of 
 England is a peace with Prance. 
 
 The young Count de Paris is a better security for peace with Louis 
 Napoleon than, all the boasted pleas of the young empire. It would be 
 easier to raise Italy against the Preneh Emperor than against Naples ; 
 the latter would caU up both Eussia and Austria, which are only watch- 
 ing and waiting on events. Notwithstanding the great difference of our 
 national institutions, both those states have more faith in "glorious old 
 England," as they call us, than on any scion of the Napoleon race. 
 Many Liberals and Conservatives may form views very diflferent to these, 
 but they are what dwellers on the Continent adopt, who are better judges 
 of the nationahtifis there than our English politicians. The spirit of 
 .Prance is sUent and speU-bound. AH the monarchies have a common 
 feeling with respect to "Prance, as it is — on its trial." 
 
 A Patient Eeadeb, oe the Poeeign Pbess. 
 
 Salop, September 27th, 1858. 
 
78 
 THE NEW MINISTEY. 
 
 To the Editor of the Shrewshwy Chronicle. 
 
 SiE. — ^Bvery print which takes a respectable rani in the Press, 
 
 town or country, has now had its say, bat I shall reserve mine until I 
 
 see what course Lord Palmerston takes in the political cross purposes of 
 
 the continent. 
 
 The -wide extended prospect lies tefore us, 
 
 But sliado-ws, clouds, and darkaess rest upon it. 
 
 If Lord John has agreed to go under the wing of the Premier, he 
 may yet become a bit of a diplomate, and correct some of his impure 
 Prench. Our fate is in our foreign policy and good faith with our old 
 allies, who hunted down the military dictator of Europe to the bloody 
 battle of Leipsic, in 1813, where he was out-generalled and out-fought, 
 and which was the last great battle he ever fought, and fon dit) the 
 only one he ever lost. 
 
 Among the weekly prints, the Spectator and the Examiner, give fair 
 estimates of the new ministry. Oobden and MUner Gibson are rather 
 oddly placed as non-political subordinates among the details of trade 
 and pinch-plum poor-law. Though ia the Cabinet, they are mutes be- 
 yond their votes in the. ministerial conclave. Milner Gibson came out 
 a Tory in starting, but on Liberalising went over to the extreme Man- 
 chester magnates : had he gone in the wake of Lord Palmerston, he 
 would now have been a leader instead of a follower of some inferior men. 
 
 The Tory clergy are getting up an opposition to Mr. Gladstone at 
 Oxford, which will be useless at the best, as it wiU. not be of any avail 
 to keep him out of office. They have two cocks, they say, as candidates ; 
 but one wants the sUver heels found him. The probability is that they 
 will not find the great expense of the funds — ^if found perhaps to lose 
 the election, as weL. as their consistency. High clergy voters go against 
 a high church candidate, because he's a Derbyite liberal, — like the 
 rector, who left the church when he heard that a duke was in town, 
 leaving his God for his Grace, — the latter, having a great share in the 
 parson's promotions. The published exposition of Mr. Gladstone's 
 views in joining the ministry is a statesmanlike view of the gravity of 
 the juncture in which we are placed. 
 
79 
 
 In home a£Fairs Lord Pahnerston ia considered the exponent of con- 
 stitutional reforms; extending the franchise wherever intelligence may 
 be found, "without regard to renters or lodgers. Education and knowledge 
 every day widening and enlarging our electoral orbit, we must advance 
 pwri passu with the times, or become mere camp followers of men in arms 
 and in power. "Why does Sir James Graham not resume his post at the 
 Admirahty ? At least both he and Bemal Osborne will be wanted in 
 the heavy and light charges with DisraeK. 
 
 The victory of Magenta, which consumed so much oil and taUow in 
 French and Sardinian iHumiaators, is Kkely to injure Louis Napoleon 
 more than a moderate defeat. The numbers put hors de combat are 
 frightful. One entire regiment of Imperial Guards was cut to pieces — 
 renversi ecrassi calbute. The scene of thousands of women at the war 
 office at Paris, screaming, crying, and cursiag, will be long remembered. 
 
 Atf OcTOGElSrAIlIAN'. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OE THE OPENING OF THE EIEST SESSION 
 OF A NEW PARLIAMENT. 
 
 To the Uditor of the Shrewshuri/ Chronicle. 
 
 Sm, — The terms of the amendment to the address were very 
 properly confined to the fact that the Government does not possess the 
 confidence of the House, nor represent public opinion ia the country. 
 
 The reign of the Conservatives has been something Hke the inter- 
 regnum of the Hundred Days of Napoleon I. up to the battle of 
 Waterloo, when British spirit and pluck restored a more rational order. 
 Lord Pahnerston, in quoting an incident from the life of Voltaire, said 
 ministers should be "condemned to rule," after the example of some mad 
 king or niler, bound to develop all the absurdities of their policy, and 
 work out their own cure. Their promise of another Eeform Bill, an- 
 other session, was too strong a dose. It was like the maxim in surgery 
 of meeting one diseased action by creating another. 
 
 Lord Pahnerston would have compeRed ministers to go on without 
 a dissolution; and therefore they dissolved the Parliament, hke "bad 
 boys," as his lordship said, who would not do that which was right, 
 because they were bid to do it. They had their budget of English 
 
80 
 
 destinies on their back, like the PUgrim's load of sin, but happily 
 destined to fall from their shoulders in the "Slough of Despond." They 
 unconstitutionally increased the national armaments without the con- 
 sent of Parliament, on the plea that we might be within forty-eight hours 
 of a period of national peril. Was this a time to be without any national 
 councils ? With what contempt must other countries regaid England ! 
 France is ruling the seas, (?) England has become a negation in Euro- 
 pean affairs. 
 
 Napoleon I., when he overrun the north of Italy, incorporated 
 Piedmont in the French empire, and such it remained tiU the downfall 
 of Napoleon and the treaty of Vienna, when the Savoy family were 
 restored to the throne, which treaty is now to be torn to rags; and 
 Lombardy annexed to Piedmont. "With such a royal tool Louis Napo- 
 leon.wiU take hie course; and when successful — 'if such things may be 
 — he will had Piedmont cum Lombardy to Prance.. 
 
 Austria has stUl about 150,000 men in Lombardy, and more on 
 their march. The four great powers to the treaty of 1815 must do 
 something. We have a .duty due io our neighbours who have helped 
 us in a time of need. Neutrality may become mean and even cowardly: 
 but our time would soon come. The conservative interest is floored, as 
 such. We can have a Grovernment at once constitutional and Liberal. 
 Lord Palmer ston — the "awful old Tory"^ — may become the Prime Mia- 
 ister of another dangerous time, and the pilot aud Pitt destined to 
 "weather the storm." 
 
 Al^ OOTOGENAEIAN. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 The DrFFicfci-TiEs of the Gotebnment. — Plain Statements or 
 Etjeopean Aeeaies. 
 
 To the Editor of the Cardiff and Merthyr Guwrdicm. 
 
 ^HR, — Though, our Colonial relations may be distinguished from our 
 Home affairs, they are not foreign affairs ; but, tating the subject 
 mid-'way, we would remark on a circumstance transpiring -within the 
 week which is not likely to form any "difl&culty" of the Government in 
 matters foreign or domestic. The attractive trifles of the day must be 
 our apology for momentarily trifling with them. 
 
 A number of large and striking posters, printed at Birmingham, 
 have been sent to most of the towns within forty mUes of that place, to 
 be displayed on the town walls. The subject is India! with a striking 
 heading of " Vengeanee on Indial ! It is that strange compound of radi- 
 calism and religion, in which extremes so often demonstrate their 
 affinity. The staple of this appeal to the people, in order to impress 
 them with a notion that England is "rightly served" for her "monstrous 
 extortions of three hundred miUions of money" from India," is mixed 
 up with the most unscrupulous falsehoods. The judgments of God are 
 represented as being ' ' abroad, ' ' visiting us with his vengeance. ' ' Ven- 
 geance is mine, saith the Lord !" The EngHsh are a free people — with 
 a vengeance ! They can write, and print, or say anything, and almost 
 
82 
 
 do anytkiiig. They enjoy more freedom than any other people in the 
 world, and abuse it more, being at once, as portrayed in this Birming- 
 ham manifesto, the most irrational and unnational of ungrateful subjects 
 — ^the parasitical creepers of the British Oak, which sustrins and feeds 
 them. The writer is mad, but is in no danger of being mischievous. 
 India is the great interest of the day; but the vengeance on the fiends 
 in human form to be decided on will be considered on Christian 
 principles. 
 
 Wratt for awhile in nations may be dumb, 
 
 But Justice lurks behind, and vengeance is to come. 
 
 The conduct of the Indians to our poor women and children is not alone 
 a great and monstrous wrong inflicted on England — it is an outrage 
 committed on all the civilised nations of the earth. 
 
 Southey and Coleridge, who both so happily ridiculed the fanuliar 
 diableries of the old Eoman OathoUcs, wrote the verses called "The 
 Devil's Walk," commencing with — 
 
 From his brimstone bed, at break of day, 
 
 Abroad the devil is gone 
 To visit his snug little farm on earth. 
 
 And see how his stock went on. 
 
 Judging from the specimens of the genus in the Indian atrocities, the 
 " stock," do not seem to have degenerated in their demonism. 
 
 But there are other madmen beside the brums. The Times of 
 Saturday told us that the editor of the Paris paper called the Univers is 
 mad — the great master-madman of legitimates; so that the radical 
 religieux of Birmingham may call for quarter, on the plea of insanity. 
 
 major ! 
 
 Tandem parcas insane minore. 
 
 The Univers has discovered the element of mortality in the English 
 heresies, and her disasters in India in propagating them. 
 
 France, we are told was a great nation, after losing Canada and 
 Spain— after losing her territory in South America; but England is not 
 to be great after losing India, (not yet lost.) " Tunis and TipoU" are to 
 become a part of a French Indian Africa,— pointing towards Alexandria. 
 Morocco is to go to Spain, and then " God and Prance wiU papalise this 
 particular quarter of the world. Mexico by the same divine authority, 
 wiU take up the prapagand in the new world. These are some of the 
 wonders to be worked by legitimacy, and its "divine right to govern 
 
83 
 
 wrong." France is to become the "Queen of the Mediterranean and 
 the Alps !" We might, perhaps, be allo-wed here to take breath. She 
 will be mistress of the Hunalays next, and, Hke Mahomet, call the 
 mountains to come to her; but if they won't come — as most likely will 
 be the case — France will not be able, like Mahomet, to go to them. 
 Fortunately, all these matters are not at present among the' "difficulties" 
 of Government. So much for the legitimates of the^ ZTnivers — ^tOl France 
 is to be proclaimed the Queen of the Universe — ( Uhiversus Mundus) — ^to 
 which our universal suffrage men will universally object, — or there is no 
 more room for Mr. Bright's "what next and next," and we may repeat 
 voila tout, with an emphasis — tie plus ultra. The real difficulty of the 
 Government is the want of power, which is withheld from it by Parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 The star of Louis Napoleon has its clouds; his throne of the Empire 
 is a hazardous one, and a still possible — we hope not probable — chaos in 
 the back ground; but certainly, if the old Bourbons are to be guided by 
 their exponents, we should find them greater enemies than the present 
 emperor is, or probably ever will be. Some uncertainties dwell in the 
 minds of the great continental potentates, and will prevent them from 
 listening to projects of ambition with so unfirmly seated an ally. There 
 is no decent cause for any war in Europe ; but the London morning 
 oracle, that rejoices in the name of the Tap, in ascending the "highest 
 heaven of invention," has discovered that France is awaiting the em- 
 barkation of our last regiment to India, to kick up a sudden quarrel 
 with us, and make a descent on our shores ! Here is a cockney mare's 
 nest extraordinary. The Tap will, probably, discover an elephant's nest 
 or two, in India next. The dog that sleeps with two ears, and one eye 
 open never barks. 
 
 The difficulties of the Government are rather with Italy and Spain, — 
 either of which may possibly embroil Europe. Both are in a transition 
 state. Spain is "complicated, — for that is the phase of the day. The 
 Queen and Queen Mother can neither agree to live together nor apart. 
 They are going on with a kind of "ride and tie ministry." — not being 
 able to find one that will carry double; and Narvaez is neither tied nor 
 loose. 
 
 Italy cannot long abide with a French garrison in Eome, to protect 
 the Pope in St. Peter's chair; nor can the Eoman Catholic nations agTee 
 
84 
 
 where otherwise to seat that ahstraction of infallibility, when removed 
 from the "lone empire of dead nations." 
 
 Thursday last was the day fixed for the Imperial Conference at 
 Stuttgart ; we should Kke to have had an invisible reporter present; but 
 we may be sure that the Scandalum magnatum of the British press and 
 the English sanctuary of revolutionary refugees would come in for a 
 large share of abuse, as a violation of international cov/rtesies. The 
 Eussian Court and the Eussian people are well-known to be more 
 favourable to friendly relations with England, than with Prance. This 
 has been the case in the north, from the days of Peter the Gfreat and 
 Chailes XII; even Bernadotte fostered a friendship with England from 
 his enmity to Napoleon I. — though he was his maker and master in war, 
 and thus paved his way to the throne of Sweeden. The only points of 
 jealousy between Eussia and England are those which turn on Turkey. 
 Eussia has more than a century's work before her in civilizing and 
 Christianizing her semi-Tartarian territory round the Caspian and on the 
 east of Persia. 
 
 There are no more real difficulties in Europe than those named as 
 such; and they must wait — as they have waited — till the Eastern 
 disasters are repaired. 
 
 The subject of Education &c., must be treated on hereafter. There 
 is no real difficulty in the question, if men can be reasonable as well as 
 religious, where the latter ought to smooth difiaculties rather than em- 
 barrass and embitter them. 
 London, Sep. 21. Aif Ootogenabian. 
 
 PLAIN STATEMENTS OF EUEOPEAN APFAIES. 
 To the Editor of the Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 Sib, — The events of the week rather exceed my anticipations in the 
 poUcy of the Government, so far as they tend to confirm my views of the 
 duties of the present false position of England. The proclamation of 
 neutrality, and the speech of the Prince Eegent of Prussia are the 
 leading events of import. 
 
 Mr. Urquhart has excited great interest in London by his lectures 
 on the war. He calls the proclamation a great Ke and a cheat, for it 
 would render England a mere negative in European afPairs-which was 
 
85 
 
 the first power to sign the great compact of the balance of power, and 
 then the first to violate that memorable treaty, which gave us a peace 
 of forty years; so that we have to offer nothing but the vis mertia of 
 this country to the domination of France, with its tricolor flag swagger- 
 ing between Marseilles and the coast of Genoa, and in the Adriatic ; but 
 in the latter, Venice and Trieste are invulnerable to the attacks of the 
 French. 
 
 We have guaranteed Lombardy and Venice to Austria, which is 
 now a part of the German territory — as Austria is only a continuation 
 of Germany ; this was done to secure Europe less than to strengthen the 
 Austrians, in order to prevent the ambition of France from resuming 
 her sway in Italy. " When Austria is extinguished," says Mr. UrcLu- 
 hart, "our time would come; and the Eussians would have a controlling 
 power in the very heart and centre of Europe." 
 
 If Russia knew her own interest she would protect the civilization 
 and independence of the west of Europe. She rests on her arms as we 
 should do. No politician in Europe supposes for a moment that France 
 is to be a great liberating knight to weak and distressed nations, Kke 
 Don Quixote was to incarcerated damsels, vsdth his knight or squire 
 Sancho, the King of Sardinia. No ! the imperial Prince is to be, God 
 willing, the Bang of Home, and some French puppet. King of Naples. 
 This is all on the cards, if we allow the game to be played out. 
 
 Germany is a kind of great fatherland to England. "We speak in 
 their Saxon and Teutonic Icnguages, and inherit their unconquerable 
 love of country. 
 
 The difficulties of Italy were the proper retaining of the proposed 
 congress. It was no exclusive affair of France, which was the last 
 country, and Louis Napoleon the last man, who ought to take the matter 
 up. Austria was the aggrieved party, as Sardinia — ever since her hand- 
 ful of men returned from the Crimea — ^has been courting the favour of 
 France, and disseminating anarchial papers and sending out false 
 reports to the annoyance of the Austrians in Milan, Florence, &c. 
 During the war in the East the French papers were often menacing 
 Austria on the subject of Italy. There has been a regular design run- 
 ning through the whole policy of the French to make war with the 
 great central power of Europe, which was the main enemy of Napoleon 
 I. in 1103-4, and which with the Austrian Prince Scwarzenburgh, first 
 
86 
 
 entered the French capital in alliance with Eussia and Prussia. The 
 speech of Louis Napoleon to the Austrian Ambassador, on new year's 
 day, wiU. be long remembered as a sufficient cause to arm Austria, 
 Lombardy, and Venice, as part of Austrian Germany thus ceded to 
 Austria in the recognized balance of power, and to keep the heart of 
 Europe independent of the East or West. If this arrangement be once 
 broken up, then "Chaos is come again.." We may not live to see an- 
 other digest of the relative rights and duties of the various continental 
 powers. 
 
 Eussia, Austria, Prussia, and England had it in their power to 
 compel Prance to keep the peace, and that power they still possess — 
 England being the only state that has yet shrunk from the duties of a 
 watchful and armed nation, jealous of the rights of its neighbours as 
 well as of its own ; such is and has been the tameness and tergiversation 
 of our sham Conservative Q-overnment. All Pool's day dated the wis- 
 dom of their course in the dissolution of Parliament, June will probably 
 date their own dissolution. 
 
 An Octogenaeiah-. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 Eedbtjen T T a t .T i, the Seat op the Duke ahd Duchess of St. Albans. 
 — Ddjiteb AMD Ha-wtciitg Match. — Peize Fightestg. 
 
 |N or about the year, 1829, the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans, 
 invited the Mayor and Corporation of Lincoln to a dinner and 9, 
 hawking match. As tiie scene was a novel one to us, I and a brother 
 reporter went to witness it. When we arrived, a number of persons 
 appeared in the village, as though it were a great holiday. We walked 
 through the suburbs of the house and came to the front. In the front 
 of the house there was a circular chain of posts, and at the top of every 
 post there was a hawk chained to it, where he always received his food, 
 whether given him alive or otherwise, so that the posts were all covered 
 with blood. We walked on to the side wing of the house, where we met 
 the Duchess. We made our obeieances, and informed her that our ob- 
 ject was to report the sports of the day; she desired us to take any 
 refreshments we required, in the house, and that she would give proper 
 Grdra:s for ttie same. When we entered the mansion, the servant con- 
 ducted us to a door which he opened, in order to show us the first set 
 out of &€ dinner table. In the <ientre of the table, there was a pyramid 
 of pines, the top of which was crowned by one pine of very large 
 diimensicais, with its natural coronal as the apex of the pyramid. 
 
 We then strayed to the village Inn, to which place the Duchess had 
 goae before us. Several persons were loitering about the Inn door, 
 among whom was a poor woman, who had a letter in her hand ; when 
 
 M 
 
88 
 
 the Duchess came out, the woman presented" the letter to her, who re- 
 ceived it in her hand and waited on, but made no reply. At a short 
 distance, as she was proceeding home, we observed she tore the letter to 
 pieces, apparently without having read it. 
 
 SpeaJdng for myself, I had not seen this celebrated lady for more 
 than twenty years, which was, when she was on the stage of Birmiagham 
 theatre; she was then a very lovely looking woman and sonse in her 
 manner, and em-hon-point; she was now fat and coarse, and had a de- 
 cided shade of a moustache on the upper Up, but she was gracious and 
 kind in her manner. 
 
 Her Grace ordered her carriage and proceeded to the scene of action ; 
 she was accompanied by the hawkej with his hue, which was, a small 
 bag, stuffed with some light substance and painted red, in imitation of 
 blood. I described the scene at full length in the Lincobi Herald, pub- 
 lished at that time ; the record of which went with the copy-right of the 
 paper. 
 
 I cannot now remember whether it was the first or second flight 
 that was a failure. Just before the partridge or quarry was turned out, 
 the hawk was unhooded ; — the bird took a low flight, just topping the 
 hedges, and then turning in a short angle, seemed to escape the eye of 
 the hawk, which was sailing about its native skies at a great height, 
 the quarry being lost. A servant-hawker, was sent galloping on horse- 
 back after the hawk, throwing his lure about over his head, attached to 
 a string, to attract and bring back the wanderer ; but he escaped, and 
 was afterwards shot and returned to the Duke, being known by his 
 little silver jesses. 
 
 The next flight was the principal event in the sports of the day. 
 The hawk, having been let loose, on this occasion, rose suddenly to a 
 great height, and sweeping away in a wide and distant circle. The 
 partridge being set at liberty, flew off rapidly in a line contrary to the 
 situation of the hawk, which seemed to pay no attention to it ; in a few 
 seconds the hawk took up a new direction, and swept round nearer to 
 the partridge, when it darted down Hke a shot and struck the quarry to 
 the earth. The Duke and the hawker then galloped off to the scene, 
 from which they soon returned, and brought with them the hawk and 
 the wounded bird, which were both handed in to the Duchess in her 
 carriage, the hawk stiU pecking at the dying and bleeding bird. Her 
 
89 
 
 Grace was delighted with the success of the hawk, which she petted and 
 pronounced to be her favourite one. , 
 
 This closed the chief interest of the day, though a few more 
 amusements of the kiad were carried on with smaller birds, but excited 
 little interest. There is no hawking now a-days without a license ; the 
 hereditaiy Falconer and hereditary Champion being types of other days, 
 — ^their sports and their gallantries. 
 
 It appears strange to us, that the hawk, possessing such power of 
 pinion and rapidity of flight, "with such a pair of wings and such a 
 head between them," as Cowper said of his daw, should, after "drawing 
 empyreal air," with Milton, be lured back again to darkness and slavery 
 on earth by a sham shoulder of mutton. 
 
 PEIZE FIGHTING. 
 
 I have a remark or two to make on this particular custom of the 
 nation. I remember two fights in the last century, which were then 
 chiefly contested between very large and powerful men ; that of Big 
 Ben and Johnson was the first that brought the lighter weights to dis- 
 pute the palm of victory with the heavy ones. 
 
 Johnson, the lightweight, was at one period beaten out of time, and so 
 far the fight was over, but the "Bigun" was not satisfied, and insisted 
 when Johnson was brought up that the fight should go on ; the combat 
 was then renewed. Johnson then began to dodge about, shifted his 
 ground and got away, and then ran in upon his opponent and inflicted 
 several severe blows; by these means Big Ben, by degrees, wearied him- 
 self and threw his blows away; by this activity Johnson brought the 
 fighting to equal advantages. Ben was frequently out of wind, and the 
 contest was decided in favour of Johnson. The next fight was between 
 Alcock, a butcher of Birmingham, and another man of the same town, 
 and a lighter weight, which was won by Alcock. 
 
 These battles were described rather than reported. I reported two 
 battles for my own Journal, in North Staffordshire. The first was be- 
 tween Sampson, (who was said to be the best natural fighter of his time) 
 and a Liverpool man, who was styled the "Mud Devil." The affair 
 came off at Knutton Heath, the race-course of Newcastle-under-Lyne ; 
 
90 
 
 the "Mud-man" gave Sam;pson a heavy cross-buttock; in the next 
 round Sampson gave his opponent a thundering kaock-down blow. I 
 •was writing on my knees within the ring, when Francis Twenlow, Esq., 
 a magistrate of the comity (afterwards the highly respected chairman of 
 the Quarter Sessions) got over the ropes into the ring. Looking around 
 him, he observed me, and called me up by name to witness that he de- 
 clared the assemblage an illegal meeting. Thus situated, the recorder 
 of the fight staked on his honour, the contest was stopped; and after a 
 few words from this little gentleman, the stakes were drawn, the ropes 
 taken up, and the whole company trudged quietly oS to Woore, in the 
 jurisdiction of Salop, where Sampson polished the "Mud-man" off, who 
 was severly punished by one blow on the nose, between the eyes,- raising 
 up such a sudden swelling that he appeared to be blind. Sampson com- 
 plained of the soreness of his fists, and that he could not shake hands 
 with his Mends. 
 
 SAMPSON AND BIG BEOWN. 
 
 I attended this fight at Bishops-wood, lying on the great Chester 
 road, near the celebrated estate where Charles the Second was celebrated 
 in an oak tree. Such was the confidence of the Bridgnorth men in Big 
 Brown, that great odds might have been taken to a large amount. The 
 fighting was all in favor of Sampson, and after one decided knock-down 
 blow, the confidence of Brown seemed to desert him ; he only stood up 
 to be punished. He had got great muscular power, but his arms laid 
 forward; his shoulders were broad and brawny; and his chest was com- 
 paratively narrow. Here my reporting of the ring began and ended. 
 It is worthy of remark that the first well written reports, describing the 
 rounds of a prize fight excited particular attention: they were those of 
 thefight between JemBelcher, of Bristol, and the Blacksmith, andanother. 
 Holcroft was then publishing his quarto volume of a short tour in 
 France, and a descriptive sketch of Paris, at which city he arrived as he 
 said "like a strange bird, in a strange land, wondering at everything 
 and wondered at." He published the reports of the two above fights 
 at the end of his quarto volume, as a great novelty in English compo- 
 sition; as a new art ill the hands of a master artist. When publishing 
 a public Journal in the heart of eighty thousand people, in the Stafford- 
 Ishire potteries, I considered myself bound to give all news, local or 
 
91 
 
 general, having an interest in. all classes; I therefore briefly described a 
 few short local conflicts; where two men of little fame sought to prove 
 which was the best man. They represented the ancient Athletics, but 
 vsrith more advantage, if we consider the art of self-defence iu using none 
 but natural weapons, in which we require pluck, skill, or science, and 
 which call forth the national admiration of fair play. I described one 
 or two battles fought by Moses Geary, as a local hero, who always took 
 his wife, Mary Geary, into the ring with him, and who acted as his 
 second; he sat on her knee between the rounds till time called biTn to 
 the scratch. Mary Geary was well known as an honest and inofiensive 
 woman. 
 
 The editor of a public Journal and a free press has no right to 
 make himself the arbiter of taste or censor of manners ; or raise dispu- 
 tations about the small proprieties of life, and the questionable moral 
 tendencies of the habits of the people in his own compositions ; it is his 
 duty to induce people to think as well as read. This is the proper mode 
 of promoting public intelligence. The progress of knowledge outstrips 
 the progress of prize-fighting. One prize-fight no more induces another 
 fight that one murder induces other murders. The interest attaching to 
 the fight of Sayers and the American, arose from the attempt being 
 made to represent it an international contert. We might as well 
 attempt to convest such fights into interparochial or interjurisdicial 
 contentions. 
 
SOCIETY OF THE PE0PEIET0E8 OF THE ESTABLISHED 
 COinSTTEY JOUENALS. 
 
 We have a few general observations to make -wliich will be brief and pithy. 
 
 The Society of the Proprietors of the Established Country Journals — a very 
 powerful influential body of men — ^held their annual meeting in London, on the first 
 ■Wednesday in May last, the proprietor of the " Bury Post" in the chair. 
 
 A few days subsequent to the meeting, John "Watton, Esq., the proprietor of the 
 "Shrewsbury Chronicle, received a letter &om the President of the Society on the 
 occasion, enclosing to him a check of £16. lOs., including a vote of £10. from the fimda 
 of the Society, and £6. lOs. individual subscriptions. Mr. Watton added one sovereign 
 to the siun, and, on receiving my receipt on the Society's check, gave me a 
 check on his own banker for £17. 10s. Mr. Watton is a member of the Society, 
 but was not present at the meeting. 
 
 The author of this volume has, therefore, to express his grateful thanks to 
 the Chairman and the Society, for this kind and considerate vote in remembrance of 
 his great age, and the sacrifice of his property, from year after year and term after 
 term, nearly one-third portion of his life. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 In intfoducing some miseellaneoufl and anonymous poetry we only obey a very 
 general desire of several female correspondents, wio knew the writer fourteen or fifteen 
 years ago. 
 
 In the occasional indolence of a few hours, an Editor is at liberty to indulge his 
 muse in flights of Fancy. The following various pieces of poetry were chiefly written 
 after the writer had passed his 70th year, and cutout from different newspapers in which 
 they had been published. They are mostly addressed from imaginary BeaTis to imaginary 
 Belles, in particular localities ; leaving the sexes to apply them as they choose. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POETEY. 
 
 GOD SAVE THE QUEEN. 
 
 A copy of the foUowing version of God save the Queen in rhyme, 
 ■was sent through Sir Charles Phipps to Her Majesty, and graciously 
 acknowledged through the same person. 
 
 A new version, in regular rhymes, written, except one verse relating 
 to India, a few years ago, but not published, by the "Father of the 
 Enghsh Press," James Amphlett, Esq., a recent editor of the Sh/rewsbwry 
 Journal : 
 
 gracious Lord bestow, 
 On our dear Queen telow, 
 Thy grace serene : 
 Long be her happy reign, 
 Through her -world-wide domain, 
 O'er mountain, moor, and main, 
 God save tie Queen. 
 
 Now heard the Christian's God, 
 Where Persian never trod, 
 
 Eome never been : 
 Victoria's banner rears, 
 Through both the hemispheres, 
 Flag of the thousand years, 
 
 God save the Queen. 
 
 Thy law she ne'er forgets, 
 Where her sun never sets, — 
 
 Slave never seen : 
 Martyrs and heroes find, 
 Refuge for all mankind, 
 Pree as the human mind, 
 
 God save the Queen. 
 
 Queen of her island home, 
 
 Sacred as Christian dome. 
 
 Gracious her mien : 
 
95 
 
 Where fate her vengeance hurl'd, 
 Her mountain flag unfurl' d, 
 Saw conquer' d half the world,* 
 God save the Queen. 
 
 From all the masses round, 
 Fame let thy trumpet sound 
 
 Each joyous scene : 
 Sutjects uproarious, 
 Her name so glorious, 
 Ever ViOTOKiOTJS, 
 
 God save the Queen. 
 
 Queen regnant of her line. 
 Sent by a grace Divine, 
 
 Our golden mean : 
 Long may the nation see, 
 Her true descendants he, 
 ' Kings of the brave and free. 
 Long Uve the Queen. 
 
 * This verse will be appropriate when Hindostan is restored to its allegiance. 
 It is said of the Andes that they " look over half the world." The Hymalayan moun- 
 tains are considerably higher than the Andes, and command a much larger extent of 
 territory, from the proximity of the latter to the Pacific Ocean. Ind or Indies, comprise 
 other lands, besides the islands of Ceylon, Java, Sumatra, Borneo, &o. With Thibet 
 and China, this part of Asia contains more than one-half of the entire population of the 
 world. 
 
 LINES ON THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO CHEEBOUEG. 
 
 BY JAMES AMPHLETT, 
 (The "Father of the English Press.") 
 
 A copy of the foUowiag lines on the Queen's visit to Cherbourg, 
 ■was sent to Sir Charles Phipps, and acknowledged by him as received 
 at the Palace. 
 
 Who, in this hurried look-out and unrest, 
 Comes from old hostile coasts a feted guest; 
 Receiving from a warlike fort as this 
 Honours of such a special emphasis? 
 A pow'r enthroned amid a nation's smiles, — 
 The O^ean Queen, — the Empress of the Isles: 
 
96 
 
 Her steaming squadron as an honour meet, 
 To other timfis or other States, a fleet : 
 And she, surrounded by a gallant guard. 
 The only being thoughtful men regard. 
 As future friend or foe. Tet seers who scan 
 The melancholy records of vain man. 
 May doubt the glories of a peaceful life, 
 Bom in a fortress redolent of strife, 
 Where men the peaceful arts of life resign, 
 For war is here one ruling vast design, 
 The heritage of feuda long fixed as fate, 
 And ages of traditionary hate. 
 
 But brief the peace in which, as records tell, 
 Proximity and poVr together dwell. 
 This festive fortress, like a giant rock, 
 May yet provoke some fearful battle shock ; 
 Though on its heights the peaceful sunshine rest, 
 A summer cloudlet nestles on its crest, 
 Eound which by stealthy, slow degrees, may form 
 The gath'ring lightnings of the infant storm. 
 
 The signal's given, — the royal standard's seen, 
 
 Steaming the ocean with the Ocean Queen, 
 
 Leaving her islet hearth and naval Keep, 
 
 Her peacefid land, and "homo upon the deep,'' 
 
 To compliment a warlike brave ally, 
 
 Whose colours with her own together fly. 
 
 The royal yacht nears the once hostile shore, 
 
 Amid the warrior's shout and cannon's roar. 
 
 She comes ingenuous, faithful, and serene, 
 
 And moves, and looks, and feels herself a queen; 
 
 A faithful friend, and fearless as a foe. 
 
 Before a nation arm'd for weal or woe. 
 
 Three thousand cannons greet her on the shore. 
 
 And rouse the echoes to prolong the roar; 
 
 From land and ocean flashing lightnings fly, 
 
 And thunders shake the earth and rend the sky, 
 
 Flutt'ring the floating flag and waving plume. 
 
 As though they might announce the " crack of doom.' 
 
 She has no clouded thoughts, no sickly dreams, 
 
 And sees no evil where no evil seems. 
 
 Holds on the even tenor of her way, 
 
 No matter who the foe or where the fray, 
 
 The Island Empress no vain boasting heeds, 
 
97 
 
 No false pretence, no foreign honours needs. 
 The blazing bayonets and flashing guns, — 
 The rolling fire that through an army runs; 
 The voices of the nation aU appear, 
 Familiar to her eyes as to her ear, 
 Exciting in her mind no vain alarms. 
 But pleasure as a patriot nation's charms. 
 Such are a people's pride as well as power, 
 When a loVd Sovereign rules, or perils low'r. 
 
 Pimch is a patriot, faithful in his fun. 
 And through his portrait gallery will run 
 The race of folly, whereso'er it roam. 
 Fickle abroad or settled down at home. 
 Some will "the old tricolour honours view. 
 As powder, blaze and bounce, and — voila tout. 
 Not so Victoria, she is bound alone 
 To hold French honour sacred as her own. 
 Faithful in treaty — ^to her line and star, 
 Whate'er^betake the future peace or war. 
 ****** 
 
 Contrasts of good and evil still prevail. 
 And every age can tell its woful tale, 
 Degenerate and noble in extremes, 
 Make human life what scarcely human seems. 
 Morals and manners change, — ^but men remain. 
 Savage and sage make up the mortal chain ; 
 Like as the patriarch's ladder upwards tends, 
 Till earth and heaven meet the distant ends.* 
 
 Glorious old England still remains the same. 
 Honor" d in faith, in freedom, and in fame: 
 Her sanctified demand, "God and my Eight;" 
 Her claim in council, and her faith in flight. 
 When one chief State in Ein-ope breaks the peace. 
 The men of action rise and compacts cease; 
 The leading pow'rs their old traditions take, 
 And all old bitter jes^lousies awake; 
 The evil passions in their turn take sway. 
 And wild confusion rules the stormy day. 
 
 * InvoVd in clouds the mystic scale ascends. 
 And brutes and angels crowd the distant ends. 
 
 — Darwitt. 
 
98 
 EEADY EHYMES. 
 
 The following lines appeared ia tlie Times, when ministers intended 
 to clip the wings of the Eagle of the Press, and restrict its paper plumes 
 to those weaker 'pinions ; or a procrustean bed for the Jove of joiirnals. 
 
 Mr. Broai-skeet of The Times, 
 
 You are punish' d for your crimes. 
 
 Though with talent, toil, and trouhle, 
 
 You have beat your rivals double. 
 
 In the blackguard brainless "ring," 
 
 Could you hope to cope -with Spring f 
 
 Or the claret in a trice. 
 
 Tap in pudding-headed Sice ? 
 
 Turn your double number out. 
 
 Span the edges round about, 
 
 ' Tis some sixteen feet or more, 
 
 Wand'ring news and knowledge o'er. 
 
 AH offences "weighed" and treasured, 
 
 You're found "wanting" when you're measured : 
 
 Not in wisdom, not in wits. 
 
 Not in caustics, not in sMts, 
 
 Not in Leaders, (Eice don't want 'em), 
 
 Not in quality or quantum : 
 
 But you're wanted, if I guess 
 
 Eightly to be something less. 
 
 So, as Chrony with the town 
 
 Can't go up, you must go down. 
 
 With your game fly-leaves no more 
 
 You may o'er the dunghiUs soar : 
 
 Eice, with cockney sportsman's skill, 
 
 Takes a license out to kUl ; 
 
 His single-iarrel loads and primes. 
 
 And bags your brace of morning Tinies. 
 
 So 'twas destined, and 'tis meet, 
 
 Eice measures out your winding-sAcei : 
 
 The/o« ! ('tis there the Whig shoe pinches), 
 
 That liifd by yards must die by inches. 
 
 Lucky sportsman, in these climes. 
 You have been, too, Mr. I^tms : 
 All your neighbours' manors raking. 
 Change of game at pleasure taking, 
 With yoiu- double-barrel, you 
 
99 
 
 Fur alike and feather slew ; 
 Of their gayest plumes bereft, 
 Birds came tumbling right and left. 
 Bang ! you went, whatever stirs, 
 MaVing game of Ministers ; 
 Slaughtering all that" s in your way^ 
 Beasts of chase and birds of prey. 
 Creeping, flyiug, earth or air. 
 Pigeon, partridge, fowl is fair; 
 Roebuck here, and hawbuck there. 
 Ganders on the city quills, 
 Woodcocks with their wily Bills, 
 Morpeth, on his owlef s way, 
 Mousing in the twilight Grey. 
 Flighty Howiek, flick'ring Brougham, 
 Crowing Cupid, cackling Hume ; 
 Durham, hawkng long his price, 
 Ftdlet Thomson, Parrot Eice — 
 Great or small, for spit or_pot. 
 All have felt your rattKng shot ; 
 If the wounded did not fall. 
 You had legg'd or winged them all. 
 
 Ministers are all, d'ye see. 
 
 Of the Surface family ; 
 
 Where, &om Brougham's penny college. 
 
 Spread out superficial knowledge. 
 
 So I've seen by niggard rule. 
 
 Butter thus diffuid at school ; 
 
 Making, some expense t' escape. 
 
 What the boys call "bread and scrape." 
 
 DON JOHN, 
 A poem; nsr itewspapee cantos. 
 
 The foUowing verses appeared in the Times, when that paper was 
 
 under the management of Mr. Barnes, and also under the circumstances 
 
 noticed therein. 
 
 "Che sara sara." 
 
 "I want a hero," Byron said, what time 
 
 His muse must please on rakish theme to fix : 
 He pick'd up Juan from the pantomime. 
 
 Then book'd on board a steamer of the Styx : 
 
100 
 
 When Dummy's frozen words thaw'd into rhyme, 
 
 And he hark'd back, though knocking at Old Nick's. 
 If hards may horrow (Byron did), go on ; 
 He borrowed Juan — I shall borrow John. 
 
 Don John, late of the Opposition benches. 
 
 Was Lib'ral, of the cross, or Whig-Ead breed ; 
 
 I found him fighting in the Popish trenches. 
 Against his King, his (conscience ?), and his creed. 
 
 Juan was ultra-lib'ral among wenches. 
 Where John's pretensions were in little need : 
 
 But John, the better hero, and the holder. 
 
 To win, would take the d — ^1 his^bottle-holder. 
 
 ' Squire Bull's affairs his clever steward, Boh, held, 
 When some old cads kick'd up a kitchen row ; 
 
 To their old posts Bull's awkward sc[uad have hobbled, 
 And cheap John's reign must be perfected now; 
 
 But BuU's concerns they have so queer'd and squabbled, 
 The dense a man of them can teU how. 
 
 Take physio cheap, and cheap advice, self-will' d, 
 
 And you are drugg'd and diddled, rob'd and kLU'd. 
 
 Now our Don John was leader of a band — 
 
 Itti in joint-stock company affairs. 
 To govern empire ; — 'twas sub rosa plann'd, 
 
 Where they could get support, to sell the shares : 
 And so they got their votes, though underhand, 
 
 And rations at the quarter-day — who cares ? 
 Don John their Atlas was, of aU beholders. 
 His world — an air-blown bubble — on his shoulders. 
 
 The capital of this Long Co. was brass ; 
 
 Of sharers, therefore, lots would them betide : 
 But talk of cheapness, and SuU is an ass. 
 
 And John his "Cheap ! cheap ! cheap !" for years had cried 
 (As fraU a one in principle, alas ! 
 
 As struts upon the pave in Clieapside) ; 
 And so John went to work on these admissions, 
 Covering the country over with commissions : — 
 
 John's little-goes, or Co.'s — and 'gainst a fray, 
 
 He takes, for need, a slapping servant man, 
 Cad for all dirty work that's in his way : 
 
 A secret article i'th' treaty ran, 
 
101 
 
 That he was hir'd or not ; for yea or nay : 
 
 If aught went foul or WTong, &om blackguard Dan, 
 "What is't to me ?" his little master orow'd : 
 "1 cannot help his going the same road !" 
 
 In such nam'd cheapness, John ran on his rigs, 
 
 Making some hundred new and decent posta : 
 His poor-law men set up as parish prigs, 
 
 {Foot guardians of the poor, the coarse-fare hosts !) 
 Ordained all turnpikes to be "tolled" by Whigs, 
 
 And stay d-off rates, and "MUed-off" paupers' boasts ; 
 Making his English Rads and Popish Pats 
 
 Commissioners of unfiliated brats. 
 
 In short, our John and Dan were errant knights. 
 Who took of their dear selves first care, d'ye see : 
 
 John never calculates — Dan never fights ; 
 (Sancho sams wit — Quixote sana chivalry !) 
 
 To centi'alize their power each Had delights. 
 Would it might in one little focus be ! 
 
 And in some vigorous English hand a check. 
 
 That it might wiing at once that goose's neck ! 
 
 So John and Dan, though Dan ■was real master. 
 
 Went centralizing on to public ken : 
 Purveying power (perhaps 'twere no disaster) 
 
 To better ministers and better men. 
 When John wished to be off, Dan went the faster. 
 
 As though Mazeppa mounted was again. 
 Talent had Dan, though darling of the d— 1 : 
 John's intellects were on the "Bedford level." 
 
 Dan had two oaths in heaven, as each one knows. 
 
 And worked them both to his own private end ; 
 One, not to fight, though he were tweak 'd by th' nose ; 
 
 The other not to wrong a reverend friend ; 
 The first he kept (creeds can't compound for blows,) 
 
 And broke the other, which the priest could mend ; 
 J3ut Dan's a cross-bred cur, whose craven blood 
 
 Has "crept through mongrels ever since the flood." 
 
 Thus check by jowl the Whig-Ead humbug ran. 
 
 Cloudy or clear, now forte, now piano : 
 Dan governed by the d — ^1, and John by Dan : 
 
 Kought like it since the accouchement of Joanna : 
 
102 
 
 Good motker ! maid, or both, intact of man, 
 
 Worthy three volumes, paying like Ivanhoe; 
 Thy Reformation imp had its quietus, 
 A flatulence mistaken for a foetus. 
 
 The "Shiloh" yet unhom of -womauMnd, 
 
 Methinks were like Hume's bantling of Eeform: 
 
 The monster sui generis of the mind ; 
 Th' inflated elements of wind and storm. 
 
 " Ah ! sure a pair were never" more incliii'd ! 
 Joe and Jo-aima, barren, old, and warm. 
 
 This as a sample must suffice pro tanto, 
 
 TiU we come to the next newspaper canto. 
 
 THE GREAT 'HNS. 
 
 Tlie annexed lines appeared in the Times, -when Daniel O'Oonnel 
 was mastering his monster revolutionary meetings, in daring menaces 
 of England. 
 
 Sing, all whose withers are unwrung, 
 The virtues of the great unsung. 
 
 All wisdom, now (the tables tum'd,) 
 Rests solely with the great unleam'd ; 
 And works of literature are sped. 
 To suit alone the great unread. 
 What's known and good must now be shied. 
 And yield unto the great untried ; 
 Where something better's to be shown. 
 That's in the clouded great unknown. 
 
 When Rice, in knowledge somewhat cramp'd, 
 Had warr'd against the great unstamp'd. 
 He cunning treaty did attempt, 
 Which eompromis'd the great unkempt. 
 His Whig-Uke movement was outflank'd, 
 And he was left the great unthank'd ; 
 Sis penny peace, despis'd, disclaim'd. 
 Was hurl'd back on the great unsham'd. 
 Rice courted Hume, and wink'd and beckon'd, 
 As to ally the great um-eckon*d ; 
 
103 
 
 But Joe, wio'd long the senate graced, 
 And figiir'd 'mong the great unplaced, 
 Loud brawl'd as patriot, pure in thought ; 
 Top-sawyer in the great unbought. 
 
 So ancient maids, when unadmired, 
 Their virtue hoast — great undesired! 
 Old Joe, by all the Eads obey'd, 
 Still ranks among the great impaid. 
 And TOWS the Lords shall still be storm'd : 
 That Barons all, great unreform'd — 
 The hereditary "doom'd," the "Dm" 'd, 
 Shall bend before the great uubann'd: 
 The why, the when, the where prescribed, 
 Shall perish all the great unbribed. 
 So have we seen (in fame 'tis book'd) 
 That lesson to the great uncoofd. 
 The lore by Goody Eaffles taught, 
 " Receipt to cook the great imcaught." 
 Now change is rife — Dan will not yield. 
 But reigns o'er all — great unreveal'd. 
 Brougham, now his pension's prigg'd, 
 Is shelv'd among the great unwigg'd. 
 And he may aid, for which he's promp't, 
 To immolate the great unswamp'd. 
 Pepys, to the Peerage " Roll" 'd: 
 Was late one of the great unsold. 
 With Chanceried nob * is now safe cribb'd, 
 Nor longer of the great unfibb'd.f 
 Thrice the budget Rice hath quak'd, 
 That hodge-podge of the great unbak'd : 
 Mulgrave comes, the letter'd swell, 
 Melbourne's queer'd, the great unwell: 
 Lansdowne, "Petty" premier's primed; 
 Glenelg glowers, the great unrhym'd : 
 And light around thy "home" has paled. 
 Chimpanzee John, the great untail'd. 
 Whigs, trim your lamps, or you're up-tript, 
 "Of justice," yet, ye great " unwhipt ;" 
 Leave (soap untax'd, thing most unused), 
 Th' unreading Rads, the great imnoos'd; % 
 
 * JVoi-iUtatis virtus non stemma character. 
 
 t FihVd — ^the head held fast by one hand of "the master," while the other 
 
 pummels the face. 
 { XTtmew^d would be thus pronounced by the elite of cockneys. 
 
104 
 
 Thus, Mister Rice, yourself mud-splash' d, 
 Tou best may serve the great unwash'd. 
 
 As Ministers, you're hooted, hiss'd, 
 His Majesty's great undismisa'd: 
 All by unfighting Dan you're lick'd. 
 The yet unoust, the great unkick'd; 
 By Dan, half pimp, half priest, misled. 
 His rebels form the great unfed ; 
 By Dan, who to the D — I's given, 
 His own untax' d, the great unshriven; 
 The ruffian chief, that Bangor bang'd, 
 O'CoimeU Dan, the great ! 
 
 HEADS AJSTD TAILS. 
 
 The following lines were written on reading a passage in a letter 
 of the Paris correspondent of the Star, at the amazement of the Parisians 
 on seeing in the picture shops a fire-eating portrait of Canrobert 
 charging the Austrians. Though known to be as bald as a bullet, he 
 was shown with his cap or helmet pendant at his back, and his fine 
 flowing hair streaming on the wind. 
 
 A SCENE IN PARIS. 
 
 At what do the wond'ring Parisians stop 
 
 To admire in that famed picture shop ? 
 
 AH eyes are open on the stare 
 
 At a portrait of General Canrobert : 
 
 "What corps he fights, — ^what place bombards, 
 
 It matters not among the Lombards. 
 
 Mounted on a furious charger 
 
 Than any London dray-horse larger ? 
 
 Rising on the tighten'd rein. 
 
 With flying feet and flowing mane. 
 
 With sword aloft, which nought regards. 
 
 He leads a shadowy line of Guards. 
 
 Despising all the Austrian hordes. 
 
 He rushes on a thousand swords. 
 
 His very hehnet dreads the attack. 
 
 And flies off pendant at his back. 
 
 His wild hair thus left unconfined 
 
105 
 
 Is streaming on the passing -vrind ; 
 While he, on Death's pale charger mounted, 
 As though he on the slain had counted ; 
 Prepared amid the blaze and roar 
 To reign o'er death and ride in gore. 
 
 Unfaithful artist, bungling wretch, 
 Pray paint another, truer sketch. 
 The French at canny-Eobert stare. 
 Unbent — "unthinn'd his flowing hair." j 
 When he, though aged, not yet call'd old, 
 But vig'rous, bald, and brave and bold. 
 ! paint the chief and steed, unbroke. 
 Both rushing on through fire and smoke ! 
 His frighten'd hair the fight may dread. 
 All flying from his daring head. 
 The head goes on whate'er befall. 
 All bare and fierce as cannon-ball ; 
 As though encased in charmed mail. 
 As might the comet without its tail ; 
 The wild hair flying wEdly from it, 
 Just like the tail without the comet ; 
 Or Cockney John, on purpose big. 
 And GHlpin parting vith hia vig ! 
 
 The brave old chief, that won his staff. 
 May now his quiet bottle quaff ; 
 Uncared for other stars or garters. 
 With brilliant Paris for head quarters. 
 
 Ah 1 unlike his unhappy doom — 
 The hero of the snow-white plume. 
 Waving o'er th' embattled brave. 
 Like foam upon the crested wave. 
 Where the blazing line enlarging, 
 "There, be sure, was Murat charging !" 
 "There," said Byron's classic pen, 
 "There he'll never charge again !" 
 
 grant us Fate some chief to see. 
 The genius of brave cavalry ; — 
 Some Mars, a guiding star, to rise. 
 The ruddy soldier of the skies — 
 To lead our Guards, if chance renew 
 The glories of old Waterloo. 
 
 Sheewsbcrt. 
 
 OcrooiNAWut. 
 
106 
 
 LINES ON SEEING 
 
 THE EEPEESENTATIVE OP SIR JOHN FALSTAPF IN THE ARRAY 
 OF THE TRADES AT SHREWSBURY SHOW. 
 
 Welcome ! Sir Xnight I — ^thy portly form revealed 
 Once more,— as just escap'd from battle-field 1 
 Mounted ! — as tkrougli Salopian fields to gallop, 
 Coq^uetting witli the "Merry Maids" of Salop. 
 A different battle-field stall hence be thine, 
 At Kingsland, with the jolly trades to dine ; 
 Nor "fright" the Severn more with battle's shock, 
 But drink, not "fight," some hours by Shrewsb'ry clock.' 
 Adown our modem "Goshen" thou wilt stray, 
 And know it not — so trim, and neat, and gay, — 
 Save the old Abbey Church some light afford — 
 Like thee reviv'd again, like thee restor'd. 
 Through the old "Wyle," and Dogpole's wily pass, 
 — ^A road, perhaps (in thy old times) in grass, — 
 Thou'lt wend, and find, tow'ring in solar fires, 
 Alkmund's and Holy Mary's sister spires. 
 Vacant thy site, St. Chad ! of sacred fane. 
 Except the mould'ring relics which remain ; 
 Remov'd the temple to the nobler steep, 
 Commanding lovely Severn's circling sweep. 
 But tell us, good Sii- John, in name, the church. 
 When all thy comrades left thee in the lurch, 
 To fight or fly, amid the murd'rous fray, 
 Whose clock thou fought'st by on that glorious day ? 
 This of importance to thy fame, — ^cause why 
 Our church clocks differ most agregiously; 
 And if they differed then as now, out-right, 
 Commencing with St. Mary's clock thy fight, 
 And ending with the one in Julian's toVr, 
 Thou only fought'st three quarters of an hour : 
 Thus settling many doubts, and strange invent'ries, 
 .Which, with sm-aiis, have puzzled several cenCries. 
 Mid Kings and Kingsland, good Sir Knight beware 
 The Shropshire glass, the freemen and the fair; 
 And "ware" the Severn, deep, in all thy drinking, 
 Eememb'ring thy " alacrity in sinking." 
 But, lo ! a host of royal forms upstart, 
 Coikie in thy train " like shadows, so depart ! " 
 
107 
 
 Our Harry, number eight, the Blue-Beard sort, 
 Cutter of dainty Uueens and questions short : 
 " Defender of the Sacraments !' ' his brawl ; 
 His royal boast to violate them aU ! 
 What of such shadows next ? we'U have anon 
 His murder'd wives, with all their heads stuck on ! 
 Eansack'd the land of shades, of high and low. 
 For the next pageant of our Shrewsbury Show. 
 
 EOUGH AND EEADY EHYMES. 
 
 FAKEVELL TO 1845: HAIL! 1846. 
 
 Time, like a fashionable host, 
 ■Win slightly shake his parting guest by the hand. 
 And with his out-stretch' d arm welcome the comer in. 
 
 Shak^peare. 
 
 Go ! Eighteen Hundked,^Z««i old "WUke's number, 
 "With all his brawls of liberty to slumber : 
 Dan's Forty-five,* — as future Times shall quote 'em. 
 Coupled with Cobden, — ^humbug's "great {a.at"-totmn ; 
 Take thy fuU load, in time's oblivious grip,— 
 Annals of iron, cotton, scamps, and scrip ; 
 Thee and thy dupes, in many a merry &eak, 
 Their "bubbles" had, but not without their squeak. 
 Go ! take away thy trimmers, prithee. 
 And all thy shadowy shapes go with thee ; — 
 Thy shifting clouds of calm, and puddle storms, 
 Era of Peel, — great pedlar in reforms ;— 
 Th' expedient pigmy of pretence, 
 That "palter'd in a double sense !" 
 The shroud of garb that limn'd thee o'er, 
 ShoVd "part was substance — shadow more." 
 In thy last days when death was near. 
 Crusty thou wert, old cove, and q^ueer : 
 Giving the Whigs, all Englishmen would spurn out, 
 A Downing-street "invite" to— "tea and turn out." 
 Go,— Go-between, backsliding slave, 
 
 » Sub mtdi. — Anno Domini, Esq. 
 
108 
 
 "We'll dance at twelve" upon thy grave. - 
 
 Hail! 'Forty-six! of festal birth, 
 
 'Mid ringing bells, and masks, and mirth, 
 
 Conceiv'd in music, — ^bom in song, , 
 
 No nurses need around thee throng, 
 
 Save but to swathe thee, infant year, ' 
 
 In mantling snules and radiant cheer, 
 
 While sponsors crowd around the shrine. 
 
 To christen thee in ruby wine ; — 
 
 Nam'd amid rising hopes to steer — a 
 
 Nobler coui'se, — new year and era. 
 
 Dare not, proud man, mid scenes of grief. 
 Ask benison upon thy beef, 
 And start upon a gay career, 
 Mid feast and song the new-born year, 
 TiU christian guests can tell each other 
 .That each reliev'd some poorer brother : 
 Then, bright homes ! where time gaUy joga, 
 Festoon'd in snow, or draped in fogs,^ 
 The fates shall these a blessing send, — 
 Good conscience on the tables tend ; 
 Each festive guest the boon shall share, 
 A warmer, kindlier welcome there : 
 And health shall throw a holier light 
 On old October "brown and bright," 
 Give temp'rate mirth the evening to prolong. 
 And brilliance to the wine, and music to the song. 
 HaU ! prospects of improving times. 
 Our hopes responding in the chimes. 
 Now crowd around our winter fires. 
 Our garrulous grandames and sires, 
 Ee^uiring from each belle and beau 
 The honours of the mistletoe. 
 We, in our order, too, we guess. 
 Must do the honours of the Press : 
 Imprimis, Ladies, — ^lace aux dames, — 
 May all their lovers' pane be cMm ; 
 Dut in the regions less ideal. 
 Be all their joys and pleasures real, 
 For Omts mimated, may they all 
 Choose partners in life's fancy baU : 
 Not at each change of dance to run. 
 But faithful prove, — and ever shun 
 
109 
 
 The trimming politician's guides, 
 Who jostle in the " changing sides," 
 Take, then, the sweets the season gives, — 
 ConserveB of fair Conservatives. 
 List ! Bachelors, the merry peal, 
 That shall a happy birth reveal ; 
 And as the chiming music swella, 
 Take lessons how to ring the belles. 
 Broad-sheeters, too, grave legislators, 
 Hail ! all our local Gladiators ; 
 Refrain not on our horder line, 
 To lapse the war of words in wine. 
 Our sage man Friday, ta'en a back. 
 May, for the nonce, " haul in his slack ;" 
 No Chronicled small-beer be stored, — 
 But taken aU his grog abroad, 
 Give his broad sheet unto the wind. 
 And leave the troubled world behind ; 
 To Tory chum be Tory fare. 
 Neither the wine nor whig to spare : 
 But o'er the Christmas social cup. 
 Take his unchalleng'd gauntlet up. 
 On "Woden's day, we rule the roast, 
 When '46 gives up the ghost : 
 With our Postscripttan, end his days, — 
 Xil nisi, then, of biTn but praise. 
 Save on good trade, let others dwell ; 
 The " atdried uin" the rest may tell. 
 He had his specs — his dupes their " shares," 
 And they are all abroad, in " Pairs f 
 And if in other specs he shines. 
 It must be in the Poet's Lines. 
 One shout for '46 to hear. 
 His bones will rattle on the bier. 
 Cease then all cares, or weekly or diurnal. 
 And leave one bright day enter'd on the Journnl. 
 The Literal navigating train. 
 The Press-gang of a troubled main. 
 Mid roUing clouds and raging storm. 
 Skippers on that Dead Sea, Beform : 
 May they for once bid haU the joyous chimes, 
 And the Post take the weather of the Times. 
 We in straightforward course essay. 
 To do whaf s right come thence what may. 
 
110 
 
 The rest to Him, least understood, 
 Wiose evil ministers to good. 
 Prompt for our duty "near or far,"t 
 In feted peace or frowning war : 
 God, and Victoria's ancient right, 
 At social board or bloody fight : 
 The Empress of the hemispIiereB : — 
 The standard of the thousand years. 
 
 POSTSCEIPTUM. 
 
 SAJLOPIiN. 
 
 Good night, old year ! to thee and all thy throng 
 Thou mak'st thy exit, Hke the swan, in song : 
 We hear with loud acclaim thy ballad o'er, 
 And may no bastard critic cry encore, 
 t Cominus et eminus, a loyal maxim of great antiquity, from eo-maniis. Sea. 
 
 TO ELIZA. 
 
 Maid of Coleham — such I guess thee — 
 
 Whom the muses thus inspire. 
 If I might in yerse " address" thee, 
 Favor'd poet with his lyre : 
 
 There were no oblivion's sea. 
 Which could drown my thoughts of thee. 
 Was thy swain some lover needy, 
 
 Pride Hill poet, proud and gruff. 
 Or some Barker Street beau, seedy, 
 Coleham dunce, or Goshen muff ; 
 Slighting maid of high decree. 
 That could tune the song Hire thee ? 
 Bid young Cupid do his duty. 
 
 With the " acid" tip his dart : 
 Where his bow avenges beauty. 
 And the recreant has no heart, 
 
 With the next shaft from hia quiver 
 Aim at his Stygian liver. 
 
 If unwouuded, and no kinder, 
 
 Others shall thy charms confess ; 
 Cupid's blind,— but he his blinder, 
 Without soul, and liverless : 
 
 No good liver, — scorn his slights, 
 
 g^^^^ Certain 'tis he has no lighu (Anglioe, no eyes). 
 
 Alpha. 
 
Ill 
 
 OEIGINAL SONG. 
 "THERE IS BUT ONE!" 
 
 There is but one a man can love, 
 
 With all the world to choose ; 
 Th' inspiring genius of his heart, 
 
 His mistress and his muse. 
 One only is th' ascendant lord 
 
 Beloved in woman's heart ; 
 Though in this chequer'd scene oft doom'd 
 
 With that dear one to part. 
 Elissa absent ! left alone 
 
 With but one star to shine, 
 I greet my sparkling guest, and hail 
 
 The ruby light of wine ; 
 My Helicon of love and song, 
 
 With which to soar and sing, 
 I fly to her in rosy dreams 
 
 Upon the Ught beeswing. 
 But thou fair maid, though far away. 
 
 Wilt deem it not a sin, 
 I hold one rival of thy charms, 
 
 With which to pledge thee in ; 
 But slander not the gen'rous wine, 
 
 If I inebriate be — 
 The venial error of excess, 
 
 Less of the wine than thee. 
 Awhile with maidens false and fair 
 
 The wandering heart may range, 
 But there is one for whom it beats 
 
 And never known to change. 
 So turns the needle from the pole. 
 
 No other rest to share ; 
 With trembling movement fluttering round 
 
 To settle only there. 
 Love 'bides intact stem fate's decree, 
 
 In love's wild steeple-chase ; 
 It owns no rival in the course, 
 
 No second in the race. 
 Though thou mayst yet, Elissa, dear, 
 
 Thy life-star seek or shun, 
 To love thee as thou should'st be loved, 
 Saiop. There is, there is, but one. Bibo, Junior. 
 
112 
 OF WHAT IS THE OLD MAN THINKING. 
 
 fA New Version.) 
 
 INSCRIBED TO W. W. OF -W- 
 
 Of -wliat is the old man thinkmg, 
 
 To the wine oup's cheer inoliiied ? 
 To some boon friend he is drinking, 
 
 In the silence of the mind. 
 A Bght o'er his thought is streaming, 
 
 From his faithful memory's store. 
 And his eye lights up -when dreaming 
 
 Of the bumper days of yore. 
 
 A cloud o'er his mind is stealing, 
 
 When he thinks of the times byegone, 
 Some painful thought revealing, 
 
 Of the eyes which then had shone; 
 But pledge hiTn to old friends merry, 
 
 And task him in bottle or bowl, 
 He'U bumper his port, punch, or sherry. 
 
 As though it should fathom his soul. 
 
 He seldom the glass refuses. 
 
 Where friends, wit, and worth combine ; 
 O'er the rosy past he muses, 
 
 To suit with the ruby wine. 
 For his were the days of drinkers. 
 
 To patriot, friend, or lass, 
 When wit o'er the wine, — with thinkers 
 
 Was splinter'd from sparkling glass. 
 
 With the hero or heroine boasted, 
 
 One shout to the old rule led ; 
 No sooner the true one was toasted. 
 
 Than the glasses flew over the head ; 
 And this was the toastmaster's duty, 
 
 That the glass, with our ancient men. 
 To inferior worth or beauty 
 
 Should never be filled again. 
 
 Salop. Bibo, Jxtnior. 
 
113 
 
 A COMPAJSraON TO THE LINES BY "BIBO, JUNIOE," 
 "OF "WHAT IS THE OLD MAN THINKING." 
 
 To tlie Editor of the Shrewsbury Chronicle. 
 
 Sm, — During my absence from Salop for a few days, I picked up 
 your paper at the "Wine Shades," in 
 
 We do not need any evidence to prove to us that temperance clubs 
 have done much good, by inducing thousands of the working classes of 
 society to contract those sober habits of life which are equally beneficial 
 to their health, their personal comforts, and prosperity. On the other 
 hand, there are the higher and more prosperoas middle classes, who 
 usually drink their wines without being intemperate ; and in this re- 
 spect the present age is greatly in advance of the post prandial scenes of 
 the old school, whose patriotism and generous feelings displayed them- 
 selves in the hilariouB days of George III. and the war with Eepublican 
 and Imperial France, in the times of Napoleon I. 
 
 I enclose you a pen and ink portrait of a wine bibber of those days, 
 taken a short time after the teetotallers first came out in water colours, 
 in honour of the pump, — ^when they were not content with eulogizing 
 their own commimion, but iudidged in intemperate abuse of all wine 
 and spirit driiikers iu the mass. The present temperance clubs are not 
 guilty of this foUy. — ^I am, &c., 
 
 BiBO, Senioe, Sober nsr the Shades. 
 
 LINES 
 
 on SEEIKra THE POBTBAIT OF A CELEBRATED I/EOTUREE ON TEMPERANCE FROM 
 AMERICA, WHO WAS BNMGHTENINCr THE LTEGES OF THE LARGE TOWNS. 
 
 ! paint not men of thanHess mind, 
 Wto scorn the comforts God design' d. 
 
 Our toils and cares to cheer : 
 True English virtues do not need, 
 The fetters of a club or creed, 
 
 A soher course to steer. 
 
 When transatlantic sages roam, 
 To wisdom teach so far from home, 
 To native genius bend : 
 
114 
 
 No yioe is in the purple vines. 
 Take then the colours of the wines. 
 
 And paint a joUy friend. 
 The forehead draw both broad and deep, 
 Thy brushes in the glasses steep, 
 
 When sparUing to the brim : 
 These, for the artist bear the hues, 
 Inspire the painter in his views, 
 
 And all the features limn. 
 
 A sager semblance to display, 
 
 Let his thia locks be grain' d with gray, — 
 
 Thus to experience bow, 
 A striking likeness shall arise, 
 If champagne sparkle in the eyes. 
 
 And brandy bronze the brow. 
 
 The vintage of the southerns seek, 
 For swarthy health of ruby cheek. 
 
 The blaze of brighter suns : 
 There nature's glad'ning spirit reigns. 
 Quick circulating through the veins, 
 
 Where the warm claret runs. 
 
 The tawny tints all soften down, 
 With bright Moselle and Sherry brown, 
 
 In colour of the rose ; 
 To finish thus thy art divine 
 The portrait of the man in wine. 
 
 Let red port tip the nose. * 
 
 No seeming saint nor sot is he. 
 
 Though with the grape he may make free. 
 
 In moderation blent. 
 He takes it in a christian sense, 
 With grateful thanks to Providence, 
 
 For blessings God had sent. 
 
 The wine, as blood of life, may share 
 The vital element of air, 
 
 Great Nature's grand repast. 
 It has been said by ancient sage 
 That "wine is but the millr of age," 
 
 Our first food and our last. 
 
 BiBo, Senior, in the Shades. 
 
 * The redness of the nose is not necessarily a proof of intemperate drinking ; it is 
 oftener the result of a peculiar organization, or disposition of the venous system. 
 
115 
 A. TO E. 
 
 When venus glows serenely bright, — 
 
 When vespers^ehant the day's decline, 
 And beams a rival star of light 
 
 O'er mortal sense to reign and shine, — 
 With Thetis, Phoebus sinks to rest, 
 And draws nighf s onrtains o'er the West. 
 
 ! fairest of the Salop fair, 
 
 And brightest where the brilliant throng — 
 The loveliest of the lovely, where 
 
 Grrace, wealth, and beauty honour song : 
 Be thou but mine, and I am blest — 
 My evening star that gems the West. 
 
 The South may boast its tropics bright, 
 
 The East its sheen of rising sun. 
 The North its flashing arctic light, 
 
 And through their dial'd splendour run : 
 The evening star, by love carest. 
 Shines brightest in the halcyon West. 
 
 The rampir'd Castle's storied fame 
 
 Of rich and high-bom maids may tell ; 
 The Abbey boast some sainted dame. 
 The rural Meole its rustic belle : 
 
 Thy fairest maiden is thy best — 
 Thy star benignant — ^lovely west. 
 
 I name thee not — ^wiU never name, 
 Salopia's Helen ! void of guile; 
 Enough for me of love and fame, 
 That I have revell'd in thy smile : 
 A charm by thee alone exprest, 
 Bright Hesperus that rules the West.. 
 
 Here, 'neath thy shaded home I stray. 
 
 And waft by whisp'ring winds, — " Good night !" 
 My spell — some dream that prompts delay ; 
 My Cynosure — ^thy chamber's light : 
 Adieu ! and be thy slumbers blest — 
 My Eve and Eden of the— West : 
 
 SALor. Phuandeb. 
 
116 
 ANSWEE BY A. 
 
 Maiden with tlie ra/ven hair, 
 
 Would thou wert as kind aa fair ! 
 
 Those dazzling eyes, like diamonds sparkling, 
 
 'Neath those flowing ringlets darkling, 
 
 Might the human will controul, 
 
 Flashing on the captive soul. 
 With evil fates thy luckless genius strove, 
 And learnt to lure, but never leamt to love. 
 
 Maiden of the rcwm plume 
 
 (Emblem of the lover's doom). 
 
 O'er thy brow so proudly waving. 
 
 With those darker locks enslaving. 
 
 Hearse-lite nodding, — scaring hope. 
 
 Daring man with thee to cope. 
 Prometheus Hke, would some one might delight thee. 
 And steal hea^ns fire of love but to ignite thee. 
 
 Maiden of the Smen Street, 
 
 Oft thy noble form I meet, 
 
 Flinging passion to the wind. 
 
 With wand'ring eye and vagrant mind ; 
 
 Late I heard thy sQv'ry tone. 
 
 With a sweetness all its own, 
 Exclaiming with a grace the heart to win, 
 rd take the fellow, but he has no tin. 
 Salop. Qx7I/ 
 
 THE MISS'D-ONE AT MARDOL HEAD. 
 
 OE THE ILiDRIGAI, OP THE MAIDS. 
 
 "One morn I miss'd him at th' accustomed place." — Oray. 
 (Twne, ^Ihj GroTeer.) 
 
 There was wailing deep in Dog Lane, and woe in Mardol'a daughters ; 
 They misa'd bini in the muster of the morning cajis for waters : 
 The hero of the Mardol maids, — ao fate that day had struck it. — 
 Instead of coming with his can, poor Joe had kick'd the bucket ! 
 
 ! moum'd and mournful was the mom among fair Salop's daughters,- 
 The pretty girls with glossy curia that fetch the conduit waters. 
 
 There was Sally &om the Elephant and Betty from the Bell come ; 
 And Mary from the Wine Vaults went to hid them aU a welcome ; 
 
117 
 
 Elizabeth came from ihe Hill, and maids from Barker Street too, 
 And Nancy from tlie Ship sailed forth, the darling Joe to meet, too. 
 ! momu'd, &o. 
 
 Fair Becky from the Bugle tript, for she had made a vow too, 
 And Faimy from the Golden Heart, and Polly from the Plough, too, 
 From Nelson's Arms (though he'd but one) -went sprightly JuUianna-'r, 
 And from the trumpet Kitty stole, and Bet from the Britannia-'r. 
 ! mourn, &c. 
 
 While gals were ■waiting, Co«-ny Joe their time could well bsguile, ; 
 He had a jihe for every joke, a smirk for eVry slnile ; 
 In gossip o'er theirtasks, tbe gals forgot the brush and scrub : 
 And "pledges" to their cans all round, form'd Joe's Ka-total club 0. 
 ! mourn' d, &c. 
 
 All, all lamented civil Joe, although he was a rover. 
 
 And wept in common crystal tears, till aU their cans ran over; 
 
 For none Joe ever had deceived, — ^by none he was upraided ; 
 
 One "Joseph" once a "mistress" shy'd, but never Joe the maid did. 
 
 ! mourn' d, &c. 
 Their cans were all dress'd in black crape, that day when, others scoffing. 
 Threw doubt upon Joe's naf ral death and dirt upon his coffin : 
 Some moum'd in sables deep, — some, in poor service and sharp quarters. 
 No mourning could afford, except their shoe-stringa and their garters. 
 
 ! moum'd, &c. 
 Joe's ghost through Dog Lane nightly stalks, as though the maids he'd meet there. 
 With lamp-like eyes and shadowy can, aU in his winding-sheet there ; 
 And gals, if you'd send back his shade to scenes which souls are blesa'd in. 
 Erect alone a small grave stone, where Joe's poor bones are resting. 
 
 Put on each back a scarf of black, the grief of Salop's daughters, 
 
 Tou pretty girls, in glossy curls, that fetch the conduit waters. 
 Saiop. Boots at the Inn. 
 
 DEOPT SHEEWSBUEY VALENTINE. 
 
 The following is a copy of a Valentine, picked up on Wyle Cop, 
 addressed to the fat Cook at the Inn Shrewsbury. 
 
 Dear Cook, in love, I'm overdone. 
 
 While thee I have been toasting. 
 For since thy kitchen love I won 
 
 In Cupid's fire I'm roasting. 
 I'm dripping eVry hour away, 
 
 Consum'd in fierce desire ; 
 
118 
 
 While thy plump form remains so gay, 
 
 My fat's all in the fire. 
 Good joints of mutton, veal, or beef, 
 
 To judge I'll quickly learn ; 
 If thou wilt give my heart relief, 
 
 "We'U malce Si joint concern. 
 Through heat and cold true lovers toil ! 
 
 ChiU'd, -when thy frowns I view ; 
 At dinner, I am in a broil ; 
 
 At supper, in a stew. 
 
 Though run the gauntlet of each course, 
 
 Of eVry dainty tasting ; 
 'Twere well, for better or for worse, 
 
 I lessons take in — basting. 
 If thou wUt be my Valentine, 
 Divided be our boast ; 
 
 I'll choose the joint on which we dine, 
 And thou shalt "rule the roast." 
 
 Kitchen Love. 
 
 LINES, 
 
 ON SEEING A 'WHITE SVALLOV SKIMMING THE SEVERN, NEAR THE WELSH 
 BRIDGE, SHRE'WSBTJRY, AND THE SUBSEQUENT DEATH OE THE SAME, 
 
 Mark ! — a white swallow o'er Sabrina seen! 
 
 Skimming those waters which our homesteads lave ;^_ 
 The circling gem of tutelary sheen, 
 
 "Wedding our fair Salopia to its wave ! 
 
 Say, fairy bird, what strange behest is thine. 
 Clothing ia snowy plume the swallow's form ? 
 
 Art thou some messenger of light divine, — 
 Herald of peace, or omen of the storm ? 
 
 Com'st thou, upon the summer's utmost verge. 
 To warn the thoughtless of the season's flight ; 
 
 Their transit on a happier clime to urge, 
 An embassy angelic — plum'd in white i 
 
 Meef st thou, on sultry lands or o'er the brine. 
 The locust swarm — dread blight ! insidious pest, 
 
 That walketh in its darkness of design, 
 The mystic wanderer of man's imrest .' 
 
119 
 
 Though sprite-like with thy psd* and Sheeted shiMud, 
 Amid the raven hues thy brethren briJig ; 
 
 They sMm with thee the sunshine and the oloiid. 
 In happy union with thy kindred wing. 
 
 Not so, alas ! may Afric's sable race 
 
 (Save where Victoria's Christian banner flies) 
 
 Rank with the haughty tribe of paler face, 
 But seek a diffrent God and lower skies. 
 
 Then give to Mammon the ideal heights ; 
 
 For them no universal heaVn extends, 
 Where nature with her own prismatic lights, 
 
 Her covenanted bow of beauty blends. 
 
 The moralist is gone — with thought elate — 
 And deeper shades invest the Quarry's gloom !— 
 
 Hark ! 'tis the fowler's tube ! — ^it speaks tiie fate 
 Of that bright messenger of spotless plume ! 
 
 Such is strange man ! — one only seeks to save ; 
 
 Another with destructive organ slays ! 
 This shames his nature, pride or passion's slave ; 
 
 That honours nature in a thousand ways. 
 
 An angel's blandness, or a demon's rage, 
 Has mark'd man's nature from his earliest birth ; 
 
 Philosopher or fool, bard, trifler, sage, — 
 Th' enigma, — ^monster, — moralist of earth ! 
 
 Strange contrast, thine, bright bird ! — ^to skies decline 
 For a stufCd skin, where owlets owlets scan ; 
 
 la some bird-fancier's cabinet to shine, 
 
 Bowel'd with cotton wool, and brain'd with bran. 
 
 Shooter or stuffer ! — would you were alike 
 In Severn soused for swallows, — ^to get breath 
 
 When ye renoimc'd the tyrant's right to strike 
 That emblem bird of innocence, with death. 
 
 LINES, 
 
 ON READINa THE BELLE OE "BELMONT," IN A LATE JOTJENAL. 
 
 To H • * * * 
 
 While others may sing some Salopian belle, 
 In whom all the virtues and graces may dwell, 
 Such pomp and sudh praises I little regard, 
 Aud envy not Belmont its beauty or batd. 
 
120 
 
 I sing of a maiden that fancy may doat on, 
 
 And challenge the fair &om the Colimm to Coton ; 
 
 Come all from the Castle and Coleham aHke, 
 
 From Trinity tow'r to the distant Saint Mich, 
 
 Come the false and the faithful — ^the flirt or coquette — 
 
 The fair or the dark, or the bonny hrunnette — 
 
 The charms of them all o'er the wisest have stole, 
 
 Have entic'd or entrapt, or made captive the soul. 
 
 But the heUe of all belles, for Ball, Banquet, or Eout, 
 
 The maid which, once seen, one would not live without ; 
 
 Of the best and the fairest, come all as come will. 
 
 That beUe is fair H * * * * the pride of Pride Hill^ 
 
 Of your eloquent love, which the bottle inspires, 
 
 I boast not its glory, and need not its fires. 
 
 Tet pledge I the maiden, and needs must compare, 
 
 The fine golden sherry that gleams in her hair. ; 
 
 The tints of the sunbeams in wine cups which break 
 
 May flush her fine features, and mantle her cheek. 
 
 In beautiful light, all ita brilliance dies, 
 
 EcHps'd in the sparkling champagne of her eyes. 
 
 I know not what arts may her virtues enhance — 
 
 Of her skm in the music, or grace in the dance ; 
 
 If of Araby's odors and finery fond, 
 
 In an atmosphere moving of feathers and blonde ; 
 
 If wealth may or may not its thousands bestow, 
 
 I love her — enough for a lover to know. 
 
 If love be a bumper, that bumper come fill , 
 
 Here's glorious H * » * the pride of Pride HiU . 
 Salop. Bibo, Junior. 
 
 EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 JOHN FHOST AND SALLY SNOW. 
 7}um. — "Giles Scroggina." 
 
 John Frost late courted Sally Snow, 
 The fairest maiden that we know, 
 The day for making one or twa, 
 There came a sudden sloppy thaw. 
 When Canny Johnny gang'd awa. 
 
 Fal lal, &o. 
 
 On Christmas Eve Jack' Frost came back, 
 And things were settled in a crack; 
 
121 
 
 In robes of wliite and flaky feather 
 
 Sal dress'd, and they were froze together 
 
 In honds as lasting — as the weather. 
 
 Fal M, &c. 
 
 Jact, prone to chamge, stood for reform, 
 And Sal was daughter of the storm ; — 
 Like Wliig and Tory man and wife, 
 They led a cold and crusty life, 
 In cloudy peace and hlust'ring strife. 
 
 Fal lal, &o. 
 
 When Jack could Sal no longer givem, 
 He drown'd himself deep in the Sivem ! 
 Soon sooth'd were widow Sal's alarms, 
 For Mr. South for Sal had charms, 
 And quick she melted in his arms. 
 
 Fal lal, &c. 
 Sal-op. Sally Mab-Doll. 
 
 TO ELISSA. 
 
 "I give my noiseless hours, blest poetry, to thee." 
 
 They are gone ! I've no drinking^friend left of the glass. 
 
 Who bumper'd alike his friend, country, or lass ; 
 
 With whom I'd in war or adventure embark. 
 
 And could trust, soldier like, to drink fair in'the dark. 
 
 In an age of bold traitors, tame chiefs, and King Logs, 
 
 The bottle's bold chivalry's gone to the dogs. 
 
 And thus dear EUssa, alone in fuU glee, 
 
 I've broach'd a fresh bottle devoted to thee. 
 
 A companion in the bright ruby I've found, 
 
 No stoppers ! and quickly the bottle comes round. 
 
 A bumper ! "Elissa" — ^the wine kens her name. 
 
 And smiles a response in the sparkling champagne. 
 
 As emulous thus kindred splendor to meet. 
 
 In eyes that are brighter and kisses more sweet ; 
 
 "And may her fine spirit be happy and free, 
 
 In the breezes that flow from the health-giving sea." 
 
 No tippler inebriate, am I, prone to stray. 
 
 For the bottle's my beUe when EHssa's away ; 
 
 And thou art to me as the star in the sky. 
 
 That shines at a distance, delighting the eye. 
 
122 
 
 There's something &bqnt thee thus radiant ahove, 
 Like a spirit eongenial to vara and to lore. 
 Thou art as the planet, my Venus, and true, 
 To bask in the sun-light and blaze in the blue. 
 Though waning thy form, like all daughters of men, 
 'Tis but to return to thy splendour again. 
 From chances of sickness no station can save ; 
 They visit alike both the beauty and brave. 
 Though chaste as Diana, and firm as a rock, 
 Deceivers and triflers around thee iifill flock. 
 
 To virtue and singleness still be assign' d. 
 
 Till fortune shall give thee a mate to thy mind. 
 
 A-dieu, then, Elissa ; be bold and be blest. 
 
 Content pass thy days and bright dreams mark thy rest. 
 Salop. Bibo, Junioe. 
 
 THE EEPLT. 
 TO 
 
 Oh ! I have read thy thoughts with pain no words can e'er express, 
 That I could doubt thy constant mind, nor heed thy faithfulness ; 
 Ill-mated by some destiny my sighs might not controul. 
 Though shadows of remorse for years should darken on my soul. 
 Ah ! woman never loves but once, — those words alone can tell 
 The blessings I have lost, — ^ihe griefs that in my bosom dwell ; 
 How oft, though sterner duties call'd, I've felt the blush of shame, 
 When triumph'd love and trembled as it startled at thy name. 
 ! deem not in my downcast eye, my brow of doud and care. 
 That aught but kindest thoughts of thee were ever harbour' d there ; 
 Deep in the heart's recess they dwell, as in a miser's store, 
 Controul'd and calm'd like broken waves when driving storms are o'er. 
 If we may ever meet again where frowns no worldly form, 
 Hope yet may brighten in the eyes like suns that skirt the storm : 
 That I have loVd I need not teU — recorded 'tis above. 
 Be it my pardon there that I have never ceas'd to love. 
 Salop. Sara. 
 
 SALOPIAJSr BEAUTIES. 
 
 Who, for maids that hath an inkling, 
 Holds old Bibo's sons so Hght, — 
 
 Calls up, when the stars are twinkling, 
 Mardol's Cynthja of the night ! 
 
123 
 
 Let each belle, Salopian dear, 
 SparMe ia her own bright sphere. 
 
 Who would talk of rank, with Cupid, 
 
 Vastly high or meanly low, 
 Must be very staid, or stnpid, 
 LeveU'd from a difPrent bow. 
 
 FiU the glass -. ; I'U not shrink — 
 
 When thou'rt waiting, I must drink, 
 
 When the dullards are retiring, 
 Long the evening I would pass ; 
 
 , pile up a glorious firing — 
 
 Draw the curtains — fill the glass : 
 
 Trouble, less thou'st have without me, 
 But I Uke thee thus about me, 
 
 Absent— fancy sees thee weary, 
 
 With such wights as wordlings be, 
 Making long nights dull and dreary — 
 DuUer with their company : 
 
 No young Bibax come to prize 
 Brilliant wine and sparkling eyes. * 
 
 Would'st thou that thy lover true be, 
 
 Test his faith by this good wine, 
 Bathe thy lips within the ruby. 
 And he'U hold the draught divine ; 
 Fancying thy lips might there 
 Of their sweetness left a share. 
 
 Justice to thy charms I've render'd 
 
 Ever — amid maids or men : 
 Though I other toasts have tender* d. 
 Other bdles before me then, 
 
 Still thy name was there I wist, 
 Forward in the happy list. 
 
 Who would (Question charms so sprightly .' 
 
 Water laggard ever doubts, 
 Withrout wine or women nightly, — 
 Never rank me with such outs : 
 Pledges are but venial sins, 
 With the lovers of the imns. 
 Thou ahalt be my Hebe, tending 
 Neetar in the lower skies, 
 
124 
 
 Goddess witli our graces blending 
 Fire Promethean in those eyes : 
 
 Laved the grape by lips of thine, 
 And kisses come embalm'd in wine. 
 Salop. Alter Eao. 
 
 * No Philander come to say 
 How beautiful she looks to-da y! 
 
 Catullus (Anglke.) 
 
 LINES ADDEES8BD TO- 
 
 BT A SALOPIAN BACHELOR. 
 
 Tune. — CamphelVs " no we never mention her," fc. 
 
 ! no, our palmy days are gone, and we nomore may meet, 
 We view, and pass each other by, like strangers of the street ; 
 We calmly see each other now, as though before ne'er seen. 
 But are those happy days to be, as though they ne'er had been ? 
 
 As exile o'er the ocean waves looks back through blinding tears, 
 
 1 shudd'riug contemplate the past, that whelming waste of years ; 
 It were as life had flitted by — our future fate unfurl'd, 
 
 And that we now dwelt in another, and a darker world. 
 
 Methinks when for a moment's space I gaze upon thee now, 
 There's sadness in that downcast eye, and care upon that brow, 
 And then I dream that could we once in placid candoirr meet, 
 We should not pass each other by like strangers of the street. 
 
 Thou sleep'st upon a widow'd bed all childless and unblest. 
 My single life of moody days is gloom'd by night's unrest : 
 Nor ever may one ray of light athwart that darkness shine. 
 Save when in wild and wand'ring dreams again I make thee mine. 
 
 What though meridian suns have roll'd across our chequer' d sphere. 
 The autumn of our life may yet be bright, and bland, and clear ; 
 But if thy thoughts prone with the dead, for life no longer crave, 
 Then in thy sadden'd looks I view the twilight of the grave. 
 
 With me, alas ! it is not so, and never so can be ; 
 This^heart may bear, and bend, and break, — its last pulse is for thee : 
 Oh ! may I never meet thee more' — save that one glance of thine 
 May tell me thou remember'st yet the day when thou wert mine. 
 
125 
 
 A FANCY POETEAIT, 
 
 OP A SALOPIAN ■WORK OF ART FOR THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 "I give my noiselesa hours, Meat poetry, to thee." 
 
 A lover o'ercome, on Ms downy bed, 
 
 In Ms HoILand sheets was lain ; 
 The fumes of champagne were in his head. 
 
 And claret had q^ueer'd his brain. 
 
 He dreamt of the arts and the march of mind. 
 
 And some glorious modem Titian, 
 That should draw his lady-love fair and kind 
 
 For Prince Albert's Exhibition. 
 
 The artist his water coIouib forsook — 
 
 "With the dreaming lover he dines ; 
 He wash'd his brushes in whisky, and took 
 
 For his hues the rosy wines. 
 
 The outline is drawn in the tawny streak 
 
 Of port both old and rare ; 
 A paU sherry dashes the brunette's cheek. 
 
 And IrovM her golden hair. 
 
 The hues of wine all colours eclipse 
 
 In the rainbow's radiant list ; 
 The burgundy's ruby gloVd on her lips, 
 
 Which his own had so often kiss'd. 
 
 But, ! for a tint for those dazzling eyes. 
 
 That shine and smile as well. 
 He dipt his brush in Cerulean dyes, 
 
 And the splendor of sparkling Moselle. 
 
 A change came over the tipsy dream, 
 
 ■When the artisf s work was done ; 
 In fancy he woke, and saw, with a scream. 
 
 That the painter's colours had rnn. 
 
 The picture — no longer a lady bright — 
 
 Met the dreamer's excited view, 
 But a man of the bottle in tippling plight, 
 
 ■With features of dismal hue. 
 
 The cheek had a daub of discolour'd dyes, 
 "The port had redden'd the ears ; 
 
126 
 
 Champagne was no longer up in the eyes, 
 
 And gin-drops descended in tears. 
 No more in the lips the ruby glows, 
 
 No rose on the cheek is now ; 
 For the grog had blossom' d npon the nose, 
 
 And brandy bronz'd the brow. 
 
 The pledge is made, the portrait's drawn, 
 
 A work of great renown ; 
 
 And when the glorious time shall dawn, 
 
 Friend shall take it to town. 
 
 Salop. Bibo Seoundus. 
 
 LINES ADDEE88ED TO- 
 
 Maiden with the raven hair. 
 Stately cold and proudly fair. 
 Much I love thy look to meet. 
 Maiden of the Eaven Street, 
 Though alone thy coyness proving. 
 When among the icebergs moving. 
 
 Often seized with moody fit. 
 In the smokery I sit. 
 Lost in dreamy clouds afar, 
 "With the odorous oigar ; 
 Scowling at the ruby wine. 
 Minus Hebe's hand divine. 
 
 Better than to "fool it so," 
 Bumper upon bumper flow ; 
 Bibo like, care's fate out-flying, 
 Die without the pain of dying, 
 Into being new, and share 
 "Life without its load of care." * 
 
 Four sheets in the wind, afloat, 
 View me at old Charon's boat, 
 Where no tempest ever rose. 
 Where old Boreas never blows ; 
 Dud the old tar to be ferried, 
 (Though I never had been buried;) 
 Off'ring him upon the sly. 
 Bribes, in lots of oboU ; 
 
 * Death without the pain of dying, 
 Life without its load of care. — Zmet on Sleep, 
 
127 
 
 Bidding the old trick to flaie up, 
 Strike ! and raise the ferry fare up. 
 Thus I crossed the noted " nine," f 
 HaU'd ! a spirit of the wine ; 
 " Jostling," in the shadowy land, 
 Every ghost that stioU'd the strand- 
 Must we thus our senses drown, 
 Should a haughty maiden frown ? 
 Slander not the gen'rous wine, 
 It hath fonder lips than thine ; 
 'Tis the dreamy lover's cheer, 
 — -"Not so sweet, hut more sincere ;" % 
 In its dreams alone we're free ; 
 Time and space there cease to he ; 
 There caprice and coyness end, 
 
 Proud ones yield and prudes unbend. 
 Salop. Brao, Jun, 
 
 t Fate has fast hound her 
 
 With Styx, nine times round her. — Fope. 
 
 JJTis not so sweet as woman's lip. 
 But, oh ! 'tis more sincere. — Moore. 
 
 LIGHT LITEEATUEE. 
 
 To tlie Editor of the STirewshiry Chronicle. 
 
 SiE, — In the interregnum of the parliaments, and after such a 
 
 deluge of speeches, some relief may be found in the levities of literature. 
 
 It is well known that by the varied inflexions and cadences of the 
 
 voice, solemn music may be made to express that which is racy and gay, 
 as weU as what is grave. 
 
 We may take an instance in the parody, by Canning, on that 
 solemn air sang by Mrs. HaUer in the Stranger : 
 
 I have a silent sorrow here, 
 
 A grief I ne'er impart ; 
 It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear, 
 
 But it corrodes my heart. 
 This cherish'd woe, this lov'd despair, 
 
 My lot for ever be , &c., &c. 
 
128 
 
 PAKODj;. 
 
 I ii^ye a secret solace here, 
 
 A joy I ij,e'er impart ; 
 It is not -wine — it is not beer, 
 
 But it consoles my heart ; 
 This cherry bounce, this lov'd noyeau, 
 My lot for ever be &c,, &o. 
 
 So sang Canning in his beat days, in the Anti-Jacohin Review : as 
 ■with his travesty of Southey's "Wandering Widow," and his Sapphics 
 
 and Dactyls : 
 
 Weary knife-grinder whither art thou going, 
 Eough is the road, and thy wheel is out of order. 
 Cold blows the wind, and thy coat has got a hole in't, 
 So have thy breeches, &o. 
 
 LINES, 
 ON BEADING THE FESTIVITIES IN HONOE OF MISS CLUDDE. 
 
 Lady, I know thee not — may never know 
 
 One on whose early path such hopes befriend : 
 But I would pray that through life's weal and woe 
 
 Some happy genius may thy footsteps tend ; 
 For this 1 know — ^"tis not the fate of life 
 
 Such "troops of friends" should causeless homage pay. 
 In days like these, of guilty selfish strife, 
 
 Where virtue bore not sole and sovereign, sway ; 
 Where holy charities had not enshrined 
 
 Thy hospitable home, and from thy Une, 
 Ennobled by a love of human kind. 
 
 Shed a bland radiance on auld lang syne. 
 All classes rallied round thee, proud to bear 
 
 Some testimony to thy virtuous fame. 
 And, in the honor of thy sire, to share 
 
 Some part, though humble, in the loud acclaim. , 
 'Twas on an humble hearth I read the page 
 
 Of plaudits in thy neighbours, rich and poor — 
 The aspirations high of youth and. age. 
 
 That thou with them mighf st through, long years endure, 
 And bear the fruits of minds like thee and thine. 
 
 In kindred loves in, the "qld house at home," 
 That mak^.a.rnral'Ufe most like divine, 
 
 Where English, sagea "so^, but never roam." 
 
Ii2d 
 
 Lady, I drunk thy health as one apart, 
 
 In tolitude and Bilence, proud to see 
 That fair Salopia is sound at heart ; 
 
 When town and country thus alike agree. 
 The scene redeems the age, and onward brings 
 
 Thoughts of what has been and again may be, 
 Turning away our minds from meaner things, 
 
 And given to rest awhile alone on thee. 
 Salop. Obsebveb 
 
 TO MISS GEOEGIANA LE BATT, 
 IN THE CHARACTER OF THE ETON BOT. 
 
 When you appear, so beautiful and coy, 
 
 Tou play Adonis — not the Etonian Boy; 
 
 And when in female vesture you are seen, 
 
 It is not Fanny, but the Paphian Queen. 
 
 One part's your own ; the other suits so well, 
 
 'Tis hard to say in which you most excel ; 
 
 'Tis hard to say in which more graces mefet, 
 
 In the reality or counterfeit. 
 
 Like you, a Guido's pencil would poiirtray 
 
 Aurora leading on the joyous day ; 
 
 Or Venus, rising from the ocean's 'spray. 
 
 Comparisons are odious, it may be ; 
 
 But you excel the graceful EUen Tree. 
 
 Fair Foote had poVr to pierce the willing heart. 
 
 And you from her have stol'n th' unfailing dart. 
 
 Some clime Ausonian made you what you are — 
 
 A flow'r, a gem, a bright dramatic "star." 
 
 Farewell, sweet girl ; biit thought will oft retrace 
 
 Thy brilliant manner and thy matchless gracfe. 
 Salop. Ociogenabius. 
 
 THE SEQUEL, BY AJSTOTHEE AMATEUE 
 
 Hf A DrPKERENX METRICAL MOVEMENT. 
 
 A-dieu, Georgiana ! arid would it were mine 
 In thy orbit to move, in thy spleiidors to shine : 
 When London's gay scenes shall thy joyoiis mind fill. 
 There's one in fair Salop will think on thefi still. 
 
130 
 
 ■Whatever thy fortunes — where'er thou mayst be — 
 Whose thoughts like the needle turn tremhHng to thee ; 
 Thy memory cherishes twin with thy fame, 
 Appreciates thy Beauty, and honours thy name. 
 Though courteous thy grace, there's a charm in thy smile 
 An angel might envy, an anch'rite hegviile ; 
 It Ughten'd, as though in the sides it had birth. 
 And flash' d for a moment its splendors on earth. 
 
 INSOEIBED TO THE KINGF. 
 
 (From the London "Albion" Euming Faper,} 
 
 Spirit of the island Kings ! 
 
 "Warriors ! martyrs ! sages ! seers ! 
 Te, whose reign a glory flings 
 Eadiant o'er a thousand years. 
 
 "Where's the sword that heroes hear ? 
 Spirit of the Brunswicks ! wJiere J 
 Saxon Alfred, noble Thane ! 
 Lion-heart Plantagenet 1 
 Stuart ! Tudor ! Norman ! Dane ! 
 Fearless Brunswick, faithful yet ! 
 
 "Where's the ancient's bearing high. 
 Prone to dare, as proud to die i 
 Mark our island home enthralled ! 
 
 Eound it clouds and darkness dwell 1 
 Distant destiny is "pall'd 
 
 In the dunnest smoke of hell!" 
 
 Who shaU. see the rising day ? 
 Spirit of the prophets, say ! 
 Stah op Albion ! be thy fire, 
 
 Guide and guerdon of the free : 
 A beacon to our Eoyal sire, 
 "Where even death were victory ! 
 
 "Who the throne of storms would-share. 
 Guard it as the lion's lair. 
 Come feud at home, or fight afar, 
 
 ! Wellington, be thine the sword ! 
 The chief alike in peace or war, 
 At battle-field or banquet board ! 
 
 Han the sword that heroes wear ! 
 Spirit of the isle ! 'tis there. 
 
Salop. 
 
 131 
 
 THE BELLE OF BELMONT. 
 
 TO N. 
 
 Of Salop's bright dames I have traced ev'ry fair, 
 
 From the Column's higli domes, to their Barker Street lair. 
 
 The prudes of gay " Goshen " may sport the vain plume, 
 
 And the frail ones of FrantweU their beauties perfume ; 
 
 In Mardol the maids have their flounces divine, 
 
 And Claremonf s haut ton in its satins may shine ; 
 
 In Wyle Cop the nymphs their fine notions instill, 
 
 And the proud ones their feathers toss high in Pride Hill ; 
 
 But scan them all round and you may depend on't, 
 
 There's no belle like * * * the BeUe of Belmont. * 
 
 I've seen her in tears at her sick friend's bedside, — 
 In the dance, where her grace with the noblest has vied ; 
 At her sire's social board, where no taste was forgot. 
 O'er the chaste cup, which "cheers, but inebriates not;" 
 At the church, where the proudest must lower their crest, — 
 Where the richest are poor, and the poorest are blest : 
 With talent, when seeking her taste to refine, 
 No triumph she aims at, and seeks not to shine : 
 Her life one clear stream from the baptismal font — • 
 For sparkling and pure is the BeUe of Belmont. 
 
 There's a soul in her eye which no other eye shares ; 
 There's a charm in her snule which no other smile bears ; 
 Her bosom so fair, and her neck's dazzling white, 
 The diamond's brightness would shade with its light : 
 
 Then blame me not , nor slander the wine ; 
 
 When a maiden I toast that can never be mine ; 
 
 And bid not a friend flovring bumpers escape, 
 
 Intoxicate more with the girl than the grape : 
 
 No counsel I seek, for no wisdom I want, 
 
 When I pledge, and pledge deeply the BeUe of Belmont. 
 
 * This word is now so Anglicized from the French, as to take up our vernacular 
 orthoepy. 
 
 TO MY SALOPIAN LASS. 
 
 I sing of thee, — not Belmont belles, 
 Nor prides of Pride HUl dames : 
 
 My modest muse alike repels 
 Their fancies and their flames — 
 
152 
 
 Their Janes, Elizas, Becks, and Anns, 
 And Cupid of the Conduit cans. • 
 
 Thy presence consecrates all space, 
 
 And sanctifies all time ; 
 
 It renders sacred every place 
 
 And sunny every clime : 
 
 The rural mead or rolling sea 
 Were redolent of love with thee. 
 
 Thou livest on the rising mound, — 
 
 I love its steep to greet ; 
 Thou livest where gay homes ahound — 
 I love the very street : 
 
 An Eden 'tis of all things fair, 
 
 And thou the Eve that dweUeth there. 
 
 Thou visit" at humhle scenes forsook, — 
 
 The gay world may contemn ; 
 And oft I love on them to look. 
 Because thou look'st on them': 
 
 Where thou hast been, or thou mayst be, 
 Hath some inspiring charm for me. 
 
 Thou gav'st the wine cup, — who dare shrink ? — 
 
 I pledge it thus to thee ; 
 Then frown not if I deeply drink, 
 When in the cup I see 
 
 The reflex of that smUe of thine, 
 Bright dimpling in the sparkling wine. 
 
 There is a Spirit in that eye, 
 
 A beauty in that form, 
 To love through ev'ry change of sky, 
 In sunshine and in storm 
 
 And life's chance blessings or its woes, 
 Shall only more thy worth disclose. 
 
 Time never shall thy spirit break. 
 
 Though fade some charms away ; — 
 Though blanch' d the rosea of thy cheek, 
 And grain'd thy locks with gray, 
 Xove in all kindred souls refined 
 Lives coetemal with the mind. 
 
 SxiiOF. 
 
 * The servant girls attending the Conduit waters went^in moiuning for Joe, who 
 committed suicide. 
 
133 
 WINE KEHSirS WATEE. 
 
 {communicated with the selection op the lines on "wateb," fhom the 
 poems of eliza cook, inseeted in eddo'wes's jouenal. 
 
 "I give my noiseless hours. West poetry to thee." 
 
 Yes, Water is good in the desert's heat 
 
 To soothe and to quiet the pulse's heat, 
 
 T' assuage the dread thirst that on nature preys 
 
 'Mid the scorching sands and the solar blaze. 
 
 To calm the nerves with its aid divine. 
 
 And fit the stomach again for wine. 
 
 Tes, "Water may proud and may powerful be 
 In tossing our ships on the boundless sea, 
 In sporting o'er its fathomless caves 
 The wealth of all nations upon its waves, 
 The proud seventy-four or the gay fancy boat, 
 But it never could bear a man's aavl afloat. 
 
 To Water the wicked and weak may incline. 
 
 In those who abus'd the blest powers of Wine ; 
 
 Awhile it may sot or may sinner instruct, 
 
 As a new locomotive aqueduct ; 
 
 Its waves, wishy washy, I trouble, alaa. 
 
 In little except when I'm rincing my glass. 
 
 ! weaker than Water, Elissa, were he 
 
 Who drank in a bumper such beverage to thee ; 
 
 But fiU up, with Wine to the girl I aUedge, 
 
 And I warrant I'll be quickly "taking the pledge ;" 
 
 For inspiring the spirit of Nectar, who sips, 
 
 And his ruby wine pledges to ruby lips. 
 
 ! Wine was by Providence never designed 
 
 To paralyse nature and stultify mind ; 
 
 But the faint TO restore, to enliven the sad. 
 
 And, as taught by the seer, "make the heart of maji glad ;'' 
 
 To cheer his high hopes in a world of vain strife, 
 
 Shedding light on the complicate science of life. 
 
 Pure Water can take no new value in price 
 
 From the clubbing of sots half redeemed from their vice-, 
 
 Who sing their'own praise and the cloudy sk's gow'r^ 
 
134 
 
 As though all its blessings were soft-water shoVra ; 
 And give to their pump-god, of spirit bereft, 
 What little the drink and the d ^1 had left. 
 
 ! pure was the purpose, all-glorious Wine ; 
 
 Such wretches were never true vof ries of thine ; 
 
 Wise elements mixed in our nature are rife, 
 
 And love lint'd with Wine are the twin stars of life ; 
 
 Nor akin are teetotallers' rabble and rout, 
 
 Who forsook their old gods when the barrels were out. 
 
 But honor to him who retires fiom excess, 
 
 And enjoys his Wine more by indulging in less : 
 
 True tern' prance consists in a temperate mind, 
 
 And a mod'rate enjoyment of all things in kind, 
 Salop. bibo, Sun. 
 
 lEEEGULAIi ODE TO ME. DIVETT. 
 
 Copied fi'om the " Staffordshire Ad/vertiser^ 
 
 So, Mr. Divett ! you with Dan had chafferr'd, 
 " Under the (ruby) rose" 
 Of Pat's grog-blossom'd nose. 
 The two good English Members of old StaflFord, 
 Consigning both to Gorh ! — and freemen throttle,' 
 Because they were addicted to the Bottle ! 
 But what Dan gives, as a return, 
 We Englishmen may learn. 
 
 Thus round we are in revolution whirl'd. 
 
 As Levelers may choose ; 
 And Stafford's "trod upon by all the world," 
 
 Instead of Stafford's "s/ioe.s." * 
 
 Shades of the Sheridans ! — ^both Dick and Tom ! 
 Where your successors have come reeling from 
 Heaven only knows ! — ^but this at least remains. 
 They brought the brass to bear, instead of brains : 
 And that truth soon would prove, could we unlock it. 
 Went mostly snug into the agent's pocket ! 
 
 But give a dog a damag'd name, 
 
 And hang him ! it is just the same. 
 Then give his bone (the trick of course must fail.) 
 Unto the Irish eur that has the tail, 
 
 * The celebrated toast of Tom Sheridan, viz. : — May the manufactures of 
 Stafford be trod upon by aU the world." 
 
135 
 
 Dan has two vows in heaven ! 'tis true, 
 "With both of which there's muoji ado ! 
 He'll leave the devil in the lurch, 
 
 If both are taken right : 
 One's not to vote against the Church, 
 
 The other, not to fight. 
 One's given to the priest's controul— 
 
 One sworn o'er Irish toddy ; 
 This by "indulgence" saves lie soul, 
 And that secures the body. 
 
 "The devil and the priest divide the prize," 
 And valiant Daniel bravely votes scndflies .' 
 Careless is Dan 'gainst whom he's led, 
 
 Or whose creed he assail, 
 So 'gainst the Church he's making head, 
 On foes he's turning tail. 
 
 It matters not good Mr. Divett, 
 Whether old Stafford may outlive it ; 
 
 Whether the bargain's not a kin, 
 
 To that we read of — where, 
 
 The sapient hunter sold the skin, 
 
 Before he caught the bear : 
 
 But this it matters, we are so far "Tork." 
 We are not going to be drawn for Oor/e ; ", 
 By all that Scotch, or Irish Bads can do, 
 With Dan's one hundred Popish power of screw. 
 
 Stafpohd. S'lDAP. 
 
 The above appeared in the Albion London Paper. 
 
 COUNTEE-POINT LINES. 
 
 IN ANSWER TO THE UNIS ON THE WHITE SWALLOW, SEEN A'l I'HE 
 WELSH BRIDGE, SHBEWSBUnY. 
 
 Poet of pretty birds, and social streams, 
 Earth hath its myriads, black as well as white : 
 O ! let not birds alone employ thy dreams, 
 But sing of all things beautiful and bright. 
 
136 
 
 Great bard of birds ! allow me to entreat, 
 
 As there are brighter things, that thou shouldst greet them : — 
 
 Were pretty flies all made but to be eat, 
 
 And corm'rant swallows (black or white) to eat them ? 
 
 Swallow or Swift — the gourmands of the air — 
 
 "Wing'd Ufa respeoteih not — at nought repining ; 
 
 But come, the Lord knows how, from Lord knows where. 
 
 And eat of flies, a colony when dinin g. 
 
 Like man, they plead the ruffians right of pow'r, — 
 
 The sovereign's sceptre and the eagle's plume ; 
 
 Their range of felony — scope to deTOur, 
 
 Involving insect worlds in death and gloom ! 
 
 The Urd was white ! Such, poet, was thy clain ; 
 
 If like the white man, not at aU surprising, 
 
 That he shotild put his darker tribe to shame, 
 
 Going o'er all the earth a gormandising. 
 
 Better for thee — the washerwoman's bard — | 
 To wash black sinners white, — a holier cause : 
 When shot, they slay no more ! — Wouldst thou regard 
 Eegions of sainted birds, step in at Shaws. 
 
 Minerva's bird may there thy wild muse tame, — 
 
 Consign her to the owls and Shaw's dissection ; 
 
 And, wouldst thou seek a niche in Shoplatch fame. 
 
 Add a stuffed poet to his fine collection. 
 Salop. Contbe-Poing. 
 
 A SALOPIAJSr LAMENT, 
 
 BEDIOATBD WITHOUT PEBMISSION, TO][tHE "gKEAT UNWASHED." 
 
 Scene. — The green a/oenue in the Quarry. 
 Time. — Morning. 
 
 The follomag local squib, if it may be called satire, cuts rigbt 
 and left : — 
 
 Bright shade ! if aught that's bright in shade may be, 
 
 I come ! — and 'tis elysiau air methinks, 
 
 Eseap'd thy strife of dunces, traders free. 
 
 From Mardol's noise, and FrankweU's hundred stinks ! * 
 
 * We tolerate greater nuisances than the late eyesores of the Quarry ; and the 
 representatives of the Welsh Ward, under the present calls on " Sanatory Town 
 Regulations," would do well to read and study a late report drawn up by 
 E. A. Slaney, Esq. 
 
137 
 
 Commands went forth, to washing dames unblest, 
 And demons blue thy solitudes explore ; 
 Proclaiming our inoorp'rate high behest, 
 "Fair Dryad's d/ry, and washers wash no more !" 
 
 Of vests divested, — all unrob'd, — ^unlaced, — 
 Eeft of thy gay costume, ornate and pretty ! 
 Thy caps made captive, — flounces all displao'd, — 
 Festoons of flaimels — coats, both grande and petti. — 
 
 Here, oft "on washing day," I've wander'd, when 
 The maid of slender wardrobe hung her train ; 
 When spinsters — ^wond'ring what bewitch'd the men — 
 Strung their best caps — so often set in vain. 
 
 The poet, here, saw that fair "sash" unfurl' d, . 
 Which held the universe — ^his sun went round ; 
 All that he ask'd in this wide waste of world, 
 And which that little splendid ribbon bound, t 
 
 Here Delia's kerchiefs roav'd, all dripping wet ; — 
 
 Her snowy hose there danced upon the breeze ; 
 
 Here her gimp flutter* d ! — ^there her chemisette ! 
 
 — ^And thoti, bright scene, wert dear, ftom things like these. 
 
 There in dark contrast, and plebian show, 
 Eag-fair usurp'd a place for tatters solely ; 
 Draping in dingy lines thy verdant row, 
 With ci-devant white shirts and stockings hole-ly. 
 
 Soft were thy airs, with softer soap oombin'd. 
 Where tights and trowsers from Salopian muds. 
 Swung their offensive forms upon the wind. 
 Mid such attire ! — and, redolent of suds. 
 
 This is—Beform !— Oh, for a Swift to quiz it ! 
 And give our Great some Lilliputian rubs ; 
 Could he "the glimpses of the moon re-visit," 
 He'd tell a very different "Tale of Tub"— s. 
 
 The good old times are gone — dark fortunes lour ! 
 Strange ! that where little's given, less is hoped ; 
 And Corporations, in their pride of pow'r. 
 Which had so much of starch, could not be soap'd ! 
 
 t Give me but what this ribbon bound. 
 Take all the rest the sun goes round. 
 
138 
 
 Adieu lone shade ! in thy forlorn wndress ! 
 And may tke nobbies ■who dismantled thee 
 In corp'rate conclave, — and by laws express 
 Shifted thy linen, — shirtless ever be. 
 CiSAB DrvAif, Shoplatoh, Lovnoeb. 
 
 Salop. 
 
 liA BELLE DES BELLES. 
 
 Come ta the Quarry whea duUards are dreaming, 
 Drugg'd with the cares of the day and the night ; 
 Come when Spring's silvery moonbeams are streaming, 
 Steeping the waters and woods in their light. 
 
 Come where the wandering Eea lingers lonely, 
 Wooing our uplands and laving our lawns ; 
 Come to the solitudes, where lovers only 
 HaU one bright star that on destiny dawns. 
 
 Come to the meads, where Sabrina, meand'ring, 
 Her own lov'd Salopia delights to embrace ; 
 Or come to the shades, where her lovers, pMIaud'ring, 
 Form the first Huks of her own native race. 
 
 Come to that Isle, where the stream, as though sleeping, 
 Like Adam when Eve's better part left his side, — 
 A moment divided, — ^its true course is keepiag. 
 And murmming on to its confluent bed. 
 
 Oh ! come to those scenes — ^their delight is to claim thee — 
 Come, brightest and best, where the bright ones are found ; 
 
 Come , of Claremont, — ^no further I'll name thee, — 
 
 The fairest and first os the Wrekin's gay "round." 
 
 SALOPIAJST BEAUTIES. 
 
 And in this state she gallops night by night. 
 Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love. 
 
 — Momeo and Juliet. 
 Way, and thou'lt mouthe, I'll i-ant as well as thou. — Samlet. 
 
 There's a maiden in Maidol — ^her name none may tell ; 
 For whom Bard Salopian ne'er sounded his shell ; 
 Unknown at the coterie, concert, or squall- 
 No toast of the Bibos — no belle of the ball ; 
 TJninitiate in arts that for happiness roam, 
 
139 
 
 The pole-star, the beauty, and blessing of home! 
 Those features so perfect — that classical face 
 No chisel could form, euid no pencil could trace. 
 There's a charm in that smile, and a spell in that eye. 
 That call from the heart's deepest treasures a sigh — 
 That giyes a new sense of a power to adore, 
 In a glimpse of delights mortals ne'er savr before. 
 — So thus from Home's statue, of beauty so rare, 
 O'er which artists tremble, admire, and despair, 
 The eye, half appall' d, as at some sacred shrine, 
 Turns aching away, at a radiance divine ; 
 Calling back from the gods, to assure human strife, 
 One glorious ray of new splendours in life. 
 Then bumper the wine ! — ^though no Bibo am I, 
 In whom lady's feather e'er ruffles a sigh. 
 That maiden I pledge, — and let chivalry know. 
 Were a lance in the rest, down the gauntlet would go ! 
 To challenge the echoes the "Wrekia may ring, 
 That bard of the Ball or Boeotia may siag. 
 Which sound in his song, when the wine cup he fills, 
 To blazon your valleys, your "inns," and your "hills." 
 11 grape be love's test, let it be the grape shot. 
 When the bugle sounds "charge !" and the melee is hot ; 
 I'll meet as a knight the Mfe-igerent beau. 
 And give bim a chance of his spurs in a blow. 
 If river or woodland-philand'ring may prove. 
 The pathos of song, or the pleadings in love. 
 Give shades that are boundless,* and streams that may run 
 From the blush of the dawn to the rose-setting sun. 
 If wine the Mfo-passiou to measure must flow. 
 Let's quaff it a Xeres, or boose at Bordeaux. 
 The juice shall be press'd at young Bacchus' command, f 
 As long as a grape can be found in the land ; 
 Let Victoria's rule be a ram of good wine. 
 And with double lustre her sceptre shall shine ; 
 A deluge of "currency" thus she unlocks, 
 To "drench" aU the barrels, and "drown all the cocks :" 
 Then lower your colours, ye bards of the heights, 
 This star of the west shall extinguish your lights; 
 Your standards Patrician no longer extol, 
 Saiop. They trail in the dust of Plebian Mar-dol. Welsh Warder. 
 
 * "One boundless continuity of shade." 
 
 t "Bacchus, ever fair and young." — Bryden. 
 
 % "Tillit shall drench the steeples, drown the cocks." — Kmc/ Lear. 
 
140 
 A BEIEF PUFF OF SMOKE. 
 
 BY AS OLD 8M0KEB. 
 
 A short time ago, one of those moral dandies called a " nice man," 
 as a recommendation to the favour of the ladies, poetized his horror of 
 smoking. One of the fair dames, whom he -wished to be considered his 
 "flame" — ignoring smoking herself, — sent us a copy of his rhymes, 
 which we replied to in similar verse; and as the latter had only a 
 limited enrrency issued, a local few, I send you a selection of the 
 priacipal stanzas, enumerating two illustrious smokers, and naming a 
 few others on whom smoking might have had a favourable medicinal 
 effect :— 
 
 Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, 
 Ne'er deemed the smoke-cloud mfra dig, 
 In whioh you could not see his ■wig, 
 
 Involved in clouds of smoke. 
 
 Quaint Lamb his wit would oft enshroud. 
 In smoke-igniting laughter loud, 
 Like summer thunder in the cloud, — ■ 
 
 The.lightning in the smoke. 
 
 Dean Swift "died at the top :" * his head 
 Had drifting clouds when wit had fled : 
 Dull care lurked in hia train, instead 
 
 Of blowing out in smoke. 
 
 And Cowper, mild ! No smoker he, 
 
 Bard of the sofa and bohea — 
 
 Complained his "dear firiend BuU"t not free 
 
 From low'ring Stygian smoke. 
 
 Clouds in his non-inebriate nob, 
 Were doomed the tea-tables to rob, 
 Inflicting many a painful throb 
 
 On one who could not smoke ! 
 
 Smoke on ! it is the steam of life, 
 The smoother of the waves of strife ; 
 Where chimneys smoke, or scolds the wife, 
 
 The counteraction — smoke. 
 
141 
 
 We ride, and work, and weave by steam, 
 
 Till ages past seem like a dream 
 
 In a new world whose dawning beam 
 
 Is redolent of smoke. 
 
 We travel like a comet wild, 
 
 On wbioh some distant sun bad smiled, 
 
 And fi:om bis orbit tbus beguiled, 
 
 Witb a long tail of smoke. 
 
 Tbe clouds arise firom smoking seas, 
 And give witb eaob conveying breeze. 
 Life to tbe "weed," and berbs and trees, 
 
 Wbiob turn again to smoke. 
 
 All nations smoke ! Havannab's potber 
 Smokes friendly witb its Broseley brotber : 
 Tbe world's one end puffs to tbe otber. 
 
 In amicable smoke. 
 
 Wben plague and pestilence go fortb 
 
 And to diseases dire give birth. 
 
 Which walk in darkness through tbe earth, 
 
 I clothe myself in smoke. 
 
 I smoke through desolating years, 
 Tabooed from fever, void of fears, 
 And when some dreaded pest appears, 
 
 I call in Doctor Smoke. 
 
 Go, reader ! perfume ladies hair. 
 And scent the ringlets of tbe fair 
 Witb eau Cologne and odours rare. 
 
 Aloof from healthy smoke. 
 
 Go babble at the ball and rout, 
 
 And smirk witb high-born dames who doubt : 
 
 Thy flames are quenched, thy fires are out, 
 
 'And sinking into smoke. 
 
 "Better," said Johnson, great in name, 
 "It were, wben poets droop in fame, 
 To see smoke brighten into flame. 
 
 Then flames sink into smoke. 
 
 The ancients fcaew not the Indian weed, either as a luxury or as a pest. 
 We read oifumigo erndfumus (active and neuter), but the terms applied 
 
142 
 
 equally to a sooty exhalation and the perfumes of Araby the blessed. 
 Scullions were called fuma/rii, from the dust and smoke of the kitchen ; 
 and the word has abundant terminations, but not in a Virginian sense, 
 except in modern lexicons. 
 
 Blackwood states that the habit of smoking is favourable to "fixity 
 of thought." 
 
 The effects of smoking on the mind may possibly be different in 
 different constitutions, bat with myself it agrees with the statement in 
 BlaehjDoodi. 
 
 I can walk and think, and ride and think, or lie in bed and think, 
 but I cannot sit still and think. I must be doing something — either 
 reading or writiag — ^when not engaged in conversation or other affairs : 
 and as smoking comes the nearest to doing nothing, I smoke and rumi- 
 nate, as it were, — the process of respiration being carried on by the 
 functions of the physical system, as an accompaniment. I am not an 
 intemperate driaker, nor a heavy smoker, and seldom continue the use 
 of the tube for more than five or ten minutes : that is, chiefly after the 
 mind has been fatigued or excited. I then subside, as from a rolling 
 sea of tumbling thought, into the gentle and quiet undulations of re- 
 flection, as though the "essential oil" had acted on and smoothed the 
 billowy waves of mental strife. As sleep has been called the shadow of 
 death, so may smoking be called the shadow of sleep. The mind is thus 
 accustomed to associate the clouds of smoke with a gentle repose ; or a 
 tranquility of the sensorium, moved only by the rippling flux and reflux 
 of thought, through which men and things shrink into their proper and 
 natural dimensions. 
 
 In extenuation of the habit of smoking, if I may not do more, I 
 should say it is healthy, and add, ia regard to myself, "behold the sign;" 
 but the logicians would reply that I was begging the question, as I might 
 have had good health, "in spite of it." I can only say that I have 
 walked intact through two visitations of the Asiatic cholera, and some 
 scores of influenzas nearly every other year, while most of those around 
 me in my own family were great sufferers. In the year 1802, or 1803 
 — I cannot now exactly say which — I was taking a pedestrian tour 
 through the central part of Wales, wl^en an influenza prevailed very 
 generally in England ; and after descending from the cairn at the top 
 of Plinlimmon, with a jolly companion, where we drank the health of 
 aU the pretty girls of the Principality out of the source of the Severn, 
 
143 
 
 we took up our quarters at the village inn of Sputty, kept by two old 
 baclielors — one aged ninety-eight, and the other going ahead of the 
 century. The latter was on the hiUs minding his sheep, and the other 
 nervous and queer with the prevailing malady. This Boniface, "the 
 younger," told us that his brother smohd, and he thought that he should 
 begin to learn it, for the folk said it was wholesome in sickly tim.es. 
 We recommended the habit for his future length of years. In comparing 
 notes with our ancient host, of our respective experience, he would not 
 be made to understand that we should come through Wales solely to 
 see the country : he had been a " sore traveller" himself in former times. 
 Question — "Where had he been?" Answer — "He had been ttvice to 
 Shrewslv/ry !" We met with no smoker that had been afflicted with the 
 very general complaint of that period, though we made it a point to 
 continue our inquiry, and my succeeding experience has served to con- 
 firm my opinion that smoking is a healthy practice. Charles Mathews 
 was spending an evening with me in the year 1830, in company with 
 Mr. Eobertson, the manager of the Lincoln and Grantham Theatres. 
 He was then living on mutton-chops and brandy-and-water, to stave off 
 the cholera ; but I could not persuade him. to give the weed a trial. 
 Brandy-and-water was his Catholicon. From a note of his, which I 
 retain in my scrap-book, that related to some paragraph in the local 
 papers, he charged us with getting up a " Joint-stock Oholera-morbus 
 Company." 
 
 I might greatly extend my observations in reference to the health- 
 iness of smoking, and adduce examples — though doctors may rejoice, in 
 the superior science of drugs. I have no interest in the consumption of 
 tobacco, either as a branch of trade, or as the friend of an enormous 
 revenue derived from the same. The Eev. Canon Hugh Stowell, one 
 of the great guns of the new city of Manchester, was entangled in a 
 paper war with the Manehestw Examiner a few weeks ago, by publicly 
 declaring that he woidd never appoint a curate who "smoked;^' when 
 he was reminded that his own father had been a consumer of tabao fen 
 ^oud/re); but not being famUiar with French and being oblivious of 
 snuff-Hng preachers, he further blundered on a denial of the assertion. 
 He was also equally opposed to the cigar, though, taking the Cuba and 
 the tube in couples, it was only another form so often deposed to by 
 himself, of committing "dust to dust, and ashes to ashes!" In the 
 next place it was rather intolerant for a weU-paid and rigidly evang- 
 
 T 
 
144 
 
 gelical superior to thus despotically ostracise a class of poor pastors, and 
 deprive them of the means of killing time, -while permitting the fragrant 
 cloud to ohscure in the mind and the memory the lucky inheritors of the 
 fat stalls, in the distance of station. 
 
 With the ladies, in their pride of parlours and dxawiug-rooms re- 
 dolent of the perfumes of the east, or -with the shrews of conjugal bless- 
 edness, who prescribe the habits and amusements of their liege lords, 
 we venture not to contend. It is easy to account for the prevalence of 
 any custom wearing its way into general habitude in a single nation ; 
 but not so with a habit that has become universal through the world, 
 both savage and civilized. In all the four hemispheres of the earth, 
 amid the delicious perfumes of the east, the wild woods of the west, the 
 rigours of the north, the golden regions of the south, the blandest of 
 climates and the brightest of skies, the smoke of mundungus bears sov- 
 reign sway as a discovered luxury of civilization ! "We may trace it as 
 a resource from the high pressure of thought among many eminent men 
 of the day. Mr. Brassey, the greatest railway contractor of the day, is 
 seldom seen without a cigar in his mouth, even while measuring districts 
 with his eye so as to ascertain at what figure he would lay down a rail- 
 way per mile, through hill and dale, mountain and moor. Kossuth has 
 said that the cigar is the only luxury left him ; and in this he incessantly 
 indulges while exploring his mental way with fear and trembling 
 through new projects menacing the imperialism of two of the greatest 
 and most powerful nations of the earth. 
 
 I shall not now stay to divide and class the different smokers of the 
 world. We have wits and clever men, who will occasionally discourse 
 on brOliant nonsense— men who know how to "make nonsense respected," 
 as Lamb says : and these are among the glorifiers of the weed. But the 
 masses of the smokers are dull dogs ; and it is only by smoking with 
 tlioin that we can qualify their stupid talk, and mitigate our contempt 
 of t ;iom. Hence it may be said that smoking is a great moderator of 
 oiirsfives, and a tolerator of the senseless babble of others. 
 
A BEIEF OUTLINE 
 OF LAW PEOCEEDINGS IN EESPECT TO FAMILY PROPERTY. 
 
 There is a duty wliicli a man owes to himself and to Hs family ■wien they aio 
 ■wronged, greater than which he owes to other persons. 
 
 I left Boston in Lincohishire, in NoTemher, 1832, and gave up my paper the 
 Boston Herald, for the purpose of going to Stafford, where my wife's brother and sister 
 resided. Mr. Edward Poole, was a quiet, easy man, who lived with, his sister, Mrs. 
 Tumock, a widow, without any family of her own. There were also three children of a 
 deceased sister's, two of whom were nephews, who had lived with Mrs. Tumock since 
 the death of their mother, Mrs. Rohotham ; the other orphan was a little girl, residing 
 with her grandmother a few doors ahove. 
 
 Mrs. Tumock, dying without a wiU, the brother came into possession of her 
 property. Her illness had not been a lengthened one ; she died without being able to 
 speak, about three hours after my arrival in Stafford. He (the brother) being as I said 
 before, a weak man, and not capable of managing his own affairs, we agreed to reside 
 with him. In the July following, he had a sudden attack of illness, which being severe 
 at the time, he felt anxious to make a wiU, which was -done in a hurried manner, by 
 C. B. Passman, Esq., of Stafford, leaving Mr. John Painter, of Dean's Hill, sole execu- 
 tor, I myself, being absent at the time. On his recovering, he intended to make a fresh 
 win, hut a short time after, he was either thrown from his pony, or seized with a fit, 
 being found on the road on his return from Newcastle, and was brought home by a 
 gentleman passing in his gig. He lingered that night and the next day, but never spoke 
 again. 
 
 By that win his property was to be equally divided between his nephews and 
 nieces ; viz., my two children, and the children of Mrs. Rohotham. The executor, Mr. 
 
147 
 
 John Painter, immediately appointed the Mr. Charles Flint, (of notorious memory) his 
 attorney, and ultimately threw the property rato the High Court of Chancery. Mr. 
 Flint very soon took advantage of its being placed there, and removed the two hoys of 
 Mrs. Eohoiham from my care. I should have before said, that Flint sent one of his 
 clerks to demand the mil of Mr. E. Poole before the funeral, but which was not given 
 up till after, as is usually the case. 
 
 The next proceeding was, to break open a stable door, take from thence a horse, 
 which he afterwards drove in his own gig; and a pony, that he kept for the use of his 
 clerks ; also a carriage of which he gave no account, belonging to myself. He likewise 
 removed two pigs from the sty, and we must presume kept them for his own use, as no 
 acknowledgment was ever afterwards made of any of these things. He was in receipt 
 of all the rents as Mr. Painter's attorney. 
 
 The children of Mrs. Eobotham were educated, and the boys apprenticed to 
 trade. It was many years before either of my children received any moneys on account 
 of their shares of the rents, and then only at irregular intervals, and in such sums as he 
 chose to pay them. 
 
 My son I placed with "W. Hewitt, Esc[., smrgeon, of Lichfield, with whom he 
 stayed the usual term ; at the expiration of which, he made an application to Mr, John 
 Painter for such sums as would enable him to pass through his examination in London. 
 Mr. Painter said he would see Mr. Flint on the subject, which he accordingly did, and 
 Mr. F. promised in the presence of Richard Hughes, Esq., that the money should be ad- 
 vanced for the purpose named. Many were the applications made both by my son and 
 the above named gentleman, who explained to Mr. Painter how necessary it was that 
 a sum should be advanced to enable him to pass through his examination, which he was 
 then very anxious of doing, but all to no purpose. Mr. Flint was never to he seen, and 
 Mr. Painter could not do anything without the consent of his attorney. So matters 
 went on ; finding there was no probability of obtaining the required funds, he became 
 an assistant for some time, but not liking his situation, he found himself obliged to give 
 up his profession altogether. 
 
 Both my son and daughter had the greatest difficulty in getting any advance 
 made on account of their shares of the rents, and many were the visits paid to Mr. 
 Flint's office, before they could get a promise, much more a payment. On one of these 
 
148 
 
 occasions, my son having made an application for money, could not get anything 
 satisfactory from Mr. Flint or any of his clerks. He at last heoame so disgusted that he 
 determined at least to have the satisfaction of chastising the scoundrel, who absolutely 
 seemed to take delight in putting Tiim off from time to time. TaMng his station near 
 the front door of the lawyer's, (who very soon made his appearance) he quietly walked 
 up to him, and asked Tiitn when he intended paying him the small sum of money he had 
 made so many applications for. The rascal turned round, and coolly told him, he had 
 none to pay him ; upon hearing which, my son took from under his arm a cane, and ap- 
 plied it soundly to the extensive person of Mr. Flint, who roared loudly, and threatened 
 him with an action for assault. This scene occurred in the principal street in Stafford, 
 many persons passing to and fro at the time, none of whom offered to render him the 
 least assistance, but rather to take a quiet satisfaction, in seeing him thus summarily 
 punished by one whom he had so shamefully robbed, and whose prospects in Hfe he had 
 so cruelly blighted. 
 
 In the first instance, I took the late George Kean, Esq., of Stafford, as my 
 solicitor. BiUg were ffled and answered, and the usual results — ^heavy costs paid. The 
 next attorney employed in behalf of myself and children was, J. Hiem, Esq., late of 
 Stafford, who wished them to file a bill to compel the executor to carry out the trusts of 
 the win ; but as they wished to avoid further expense, and thinking matters would be 
 settled without, it waS not done. 
 
 Things went on this way as long as the houses would hold together without re- 
 pairs; at last some of them became so entirely delapidated, that the tenants could not 
 live in them any longer. The desolation of one house can hardly be described; the 
 windows were paneless, the paper hung from the walls, and flapped about like a winding 
 sheet, and though in a town, the grass and weeds choked up its entrance : the rent of 
 this house and premises was £40 per annum, and being in the vicinity of the property 
 belonging to the gas company, they offered a large sum for it — ^nearly twice what it 
 fetched at the sale ; — ^but Mr. Flint knowing that an order must be obtained from the 
 Court of Chancery, before a sale could be effected, felt that when one part was sold, aU 
 must, and as long as a house had a tenant, and he could receive the rents, he was re- 
 solved to keep them. The property I have just named, and another house, in the 
 Market Square, rented at £60 per annum ; the two making £100 per year, were without 
 tenants from five to six years. My son and daughter were at last persuaded to file a biU, 
 to compel the executors to sell the property ; Wm. Bowen, Esq., of Stafford, being the 
 
149 
 solicitor employed on this occasion ; but all to no purpose, and some eight or niae years 
 of anxious suspense followed, before any Hung final was done towards bringing this un- 
 fortunate busiaess to a close. It was tossed from lawyer to lawyer, each feeding upon it 
 as long as they could, until the greater portion of it was swallowed up. It saw the end 
 of three Masters of the Eolls ; viz., Pepys, afterwards Lord Cottenham, and his successor. 
 Lord Laagdale (previously Mr. Biokersteth) ; and lastly, old Mr. Dowdeswell "the 
 Master" himself. The frightful saoriflce of property, since its commencement in 1833, 
 unta its final termination in 1857, is too painful to reflect upon. 
 
 ■W. ■WARDLE, PEDflEE, MAEDOL, SHEE'WSBUEY.