The House of Lords presented, on the morning of Tuesday the 16th

February 1841, a most imposing appearance. Lord Denman, the Lord

Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench had been appointed by commission

from the Queen, _pro hâc vice_, Lord High Steward.[56] The judges

were in attendance in their state robes, and took their seats on the

woolsack. The peers were attired in their robes, such of them as were

knights also wearing the collars of their respective orders. The Lord

Chancellor (Lord Cottenham) was absent through illness; but there were,

independently of the Lord High Steward, no fewer than five law lords

present--Lords Lyndhurst, Brougham, Wynford, Abinger, and Langdale.

The side galleries were covered with ladies; and the scene was one

of great solemnity and magnificence. The Lord High Steward having

made reverences to the throne, to which he had been conducted by the

state officer--the Garter King-at-Arms bearing the sceptre, and the

Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod the Lord Steward's staff--took his

seat on the chair of state placed on the upper step but one of

the throne. The necessary formalities of reading the commission, the

writ of certiorari, and indictment, having been gone through, the Lord

High Steward ordered proclamation to be made to the Yeoman Usher of

the Black Rod "to bring James Thomas, Earl of Cardigan, to the bar."

This was quickly complied with--the Earl, accompanied by the officer

above mentioned, appearing at the bar, dressed in plain clothes. As he

approached, he made three "reverences," and knelt, till directed by the

Lord High Steward to rise. He again made three reverences, respectively

to the Lord High Steward, and his brother peers on each side of the

house, they returning his courtesy. He was then conducted to a stool

within the bar near his counsel. His demeanour was calm and dignified,

and he had a very soldierly bearing. He was then in his forty-fourth

year. The Lord High Steward's deep impressive tones were then heard, as

he thus addressed the noble prisoner: "My Lord Cardigan, your lordship

stands at the bar charged with the offence of firing with a loaded

pistol at Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett, with intent to murder him; in

a second count, you are charged with firing with intent to maim and

disable him; and in a third count, you are charged with firing with

intent to do him some grievous bodily harm. Your lordship will now be

arraigned on that indictment." The Earl was then arraigned in the usual

manner, by the Deputy Clerk of the Crown, in the Queen's Bench, who

thus proceeded:--

"How say you, my Lord, are you guilty of the felony with which you

stand charged, or not guilty?"

_Earl of Cardigan._--Not guilty, my lords.

_Deputy Clerk of the Crown._--How will your lordship be tried?

_Earl of Cardigan._--By my peers.

_Deputy Clerk of the Crown._--God send your lordship a good deliverance.

The Earl then, by leave of the House, sate down uncovered: and after

the usual proclamation had been made for all persons to come forward

and give evidence, the Lord Steward, with the leave of the House,

descended from his seat on the throne, and took his seat at the table.

The counsel for the Crown were the Attorney-General (the present Lord

Campbell), and Mr Waddington, (now Under Secretary of State); and for

the prisoner, Sir William Follett, Mr Serjeant Wrangham, and the late

Mr Adolphus. It has been said, and is indeed intimated by Mr Townsend,

that, imperturbable as was the self-possession of Sir William Follett,

on this occasion he exhibited unusual indication of an oppressive sense

of responsibility. Both facts, indeed, and law were so dead against

his noble client, and the consequences of conviction so exceedingly

serious, that nothing was left for him but to watch with lynx-eyed

acuteness, in order to see that nothing but rigorously exact legal

proof was adduced against his client.

The opening address of the Attorney-General was temperate, clear, and

able; most faithfully stating the law which he charged Lord Cardigan

with having violated, and the facts constituting the violation.

He reminded the House that sixty-four years had elapsed since a

similar trial had taken place--that of Lord Byron, for killing his

opponent in a duel. "I am rejoiced, my Lords, to think," continued

the Attorney-General, in terms which immediately occasioned great

observation, "that the charge against the noble prisoner at the bar

_does not imply any degree of moral turpitude_; and that, if he should

be found guilty, the conviction will reflect no discredit upon the

illustrious order to which he belongs. But, my Lords, it seems to me

that he has been clearly guilty of a breach of the statute law of

the realm, which this and all other courts of justice are bound to

respect and enforce. Your lordships are not sitting here as a court of

honour, or as a branch of the legislature, but as a court of justice,

bound by the rules of law, and under a sanction as sacred as that of

an oath.... Your lordships are aware that the noble Earl is in the

army--Lieutenant-colonel of the 11th Hussars; and I have no doubt that,

on this occasion, he only complied with what he thought necessary to

the usages of society. But, under these circumstances, though it would

have been considered, if death had ensued, _a great calamity, and not a

great crime_--though moralists of the highest authority have defended

duelling--it remains for your lordships to consider what duelling is by

the law of England." After quoting from the known great authorities,

Hale, Hawkins, Foster, and Blackstone, proving that a death by duelling

was wilful murder, the Attorney-General correctly observed--"It

necessarily follows, from this definition of murder, that the _first

count_ of the indictment is [that is, he expected that it would be]

completely proved. The only supposition, my Lords, by which the case

can be reduced to one of _manslaughter_ would be, that Lord Cardigan

and Captain Tuckett _casually_ met at Wimbledon Common--that they

_suddenly_ quarrelled--and that, while their blood was up, they fought.

But your lordships can hardly strain the facts so far as to suppose

that this was a casual meeting, when you find that each was supplied

with his second--that each had a brace of pistols--and that the whole

affair was conducted according to the forms and solemnities observed

when a deliberate duel is fought." Could anything be more clear and

cogent? "Then, my Lords, with regard to the second and third counts

of the indictment, I know not what defence can possibly be suggested;

because, even if there had been this casual meeting, contrary to all

probability and all the circumstances of the case--if it would only,

had death ensued, have amounted to the crime of manslaughter--that

would be no defence to the second and third counts of the indictment,

as has been expressly decided (in the case of _Anonymous_, 2 Moody's

Crim. Cases, p. 40) by the fifteen Judges of England."

Such was the opening of the Attorney-General--such as must have left

not a single crevice through which a glimpse of hope could be caught.

The words of the Act of Parliament could not have applied more exactly

to the facts of the case, as our readers must see, even if the act

had been expressly framed to meet these particular facts! The miller

of Wimbledon, his wife and son, had witnessed the whole affair--the

arrival of the parties on the ground, and the double interchange of

shots. Lord Cardigan, on the spot, and at the police office, in plain

terms avowed who he was, and what he had done, and who had been his

second--the inspector of the police-station being present to prove

such avowal. Sir James Anderson, the surgeon, who had also seen the

duel, and accompanied Captain Tuckett home, was in attendance as a

witness. The miller, who had received Captain Tuckett's card, went, a

week afterwards, to the residence mentioned in the card, and asked for,

and saw, Captain Tuckett. It would seem as though the wit of man could

not suggest how these facts could be evaded, or how they could fail of

being proved! Yet the case totally broke down; the whole prosecution

crumbled into pieces, under the subtle and watchful dexterity of the

consummate advocate to whom Lord Cardigan had committed his almost

hopeless case. What does the reader suppose to have been the fatal

flaw? The prosecution could not prove THE IDENTITY OF CAPTAIN TUCKETT!

Each of the three counts in the indictment charged Lord Cardigan

with having fired at--Harvey _Garnett Phipps_ Tuckett. That was his

real name, but it became impossible to prove the fact; and, without

such proof, the prisoner was, beyond all question, entitled to an

acquittal. A man cannot be indicted for firing at A B, and convicted

of firing at C D. If Captain Tuckett had been called, he could, of

course, have instantly disposed of the difficulty; and it is said that

that gentleman was actually in, or near, the House of Lords; but the

Attorney-General explained that he could not call that gentleman, nor

his second, because, though the bill against them had been ignored by

the grand jury, "they were still liable to be tried," and therefore

"it would not be decorous to summon them to give evidence which

might afterwards be turned against themselves." And as for Captain

Wainwright, he was in the situation of his noble fellow prisoner,

as a true bill had been found against him at the Central Criminal

Court. What, then, shall be said against calling Sir James Anderson?

Fortunately for himself and for Lord Cardigan, he was in a position

to be tried himself on a charge of having been present, aiding and

assisting at the commission of a felony. On this gentleman being sworn,

the Lord High Steward thus cautioned him, as he was bound to do in the

case of any witness similarly situated:--

"Sir James Anderson,--With the permission of the House, I think it

my duty to inform you, after the opening we have heard made by the

Attorney-General of the facts of the case, that you are not bound to

answer any question _which may tend to criminate yourself_." Doubtless,

Sir James Anderson expected nothing less, and had come to the House of

Lords perfectly at his ease. Therefore he came like a shadow, and so

departed. Thus "had he his entrance and his exit."

"_Attorney-General._--Of what profession are you?

"_A._--I am a physician.

"_Q._--Where do you live?

"_A._--New Burlington Street.

"_Q._--Are you acquainted with Captain Tuckett?

"_A._--I must decline answering that.

"_Q._--Were you on Wimbledon Common on the 12th September last?

"_A._--I must decline answering that also!

"_Q._--Were you on that day called in to attend any gentleman that was

wounded?

"_A._--I am sorry to decline that again!

"_Q._--Can you tell me where Captain Tuckett lives?

"_A._--I must decline answering the question!

"_Q._--Has he a house in London?

"_Sir William Follett._--He 'declines to answer the question.'

"_A._--I have already said that I decline answering the question.

"_Attorney-General._--Where did you last see Captain Tuckett?

"_Sir William Follett._--We [the counsel for the prisoner] have no

_right_, my Lords, to interfere in this case;[57] but, the witness

having several times declined to answer the question, I apprehend that

it is not regular for the Attorney-General, by circuitous questions,

to endeavour to get him to answer.

"_Attorney-General._--I have never pressed him in any question I have

put. [_To Sir James Anderson._]--Do you decline answering any question

whatever respecting Captain Tuckett?

"_A._--_Any_ question which may 'tend to criminate' myself.

"_Q._--And you consider that answering any question respecting Captain

Tuckett _may_ tend to criminate yourself?

"_A._--It is possible that it would.

"_Q._--And on that ground you decline?

"_A._--Yes.

"_Attorney-General_, [_to the House_.]--Then, unless your Lordships

wish to ask any question of the witness, he may withdraw.

"The witness was directed to withdraw."

Here, then, were four avenues through which light might have been

thrown on a transaction which was the subject of such solemn and

dignified inquiry by the most illustrious judicial assembly in the

world, carefully closed: Sir James Anderson, Captain Tuckett, Captain

Douglas, and Captain Wainwright. It will be further observed that Lord

Cardigan, in his frank avowal at the police station, had happened not

to mention the name of the gentleman whom he had fought and wounded--an

omission probably altogether accidental, for his Lordship seems to have

been in a humour of signal yet becoming and characteristic frankness.

The sole question in this celebrated case thus became one of

identity--the indictment charging Lord Cardigan with having fired

at one _Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett_--it being the duty of the

prosecutors to prove that the prisoner fired at a person _bearing these

names_. There was abundant evidence that Lord Cardigan had fired at and

wounded a Captain Harvey Tuckett; but this might be a person totally

different from him named in the indictment. The skill and vigilance

of the prisoner's counsel were visible in tripping up his opponents

whenever they approached inconveniently near his client. There is no

reason to believe that Lord Cardigan's counsel were aware of there

being the slightest difficulty, on the part of the prosecution, in

proving the identity of the wounded man with the one specified in the

indictment; but at the very first start, Sir William Follett perceived

a faint possible advantage, and never for one instant lost sight of it.

"You tell us," said the counsel for the prosecution, examining the

first witness--the miller, "that you saw the pistols fired a second

time: did you observe whether either of the shots took effect?

"_A._--I thought Captain Tuckett was wounded--or, at least, the other

gentleman: _I did not know who it was_.

"_Q._--You thought that the gentleman, whom you afterwards knew to be

Captain Tuckett, was wounded?

"_A._--Yes.

"_Q._--Did you see what that gentleman did with his pistol, after the

second shots were fired?

"_A._--No.

"_Q._--You did not see whether he held it in his hand, or what he did

with it?

"_A._--Which are you alluding to?

"_Q._--I am speaking of Captain Tuckett.

"_Sir William Follett._--He has said he did not know who it was!"

Here was a stumble by the prosecutors, which their wary adversary

never allowed them to recover. The miller then stated the giving of

the card of address of "Captain Harvey Tuckett, 13 Hamilton Place, New

Road," and produced it; but Sir William Follett would not allow it

to be read in evidence against Lord Cardigan, without evidence that

Lord Cardigan had seen it given, and was aware of what it was: and

such evidence was not forthcoming. The Attorney-General then withdrew

the card for the present, and asked the miller whether, on receiving

it, he allowed the wounded gentleman to go; to which the answer was

"Yes."--"In consequence of receiving this card, did you afterwards call

at a particular house?" (meaning the house mentioned on the card, but

which Sir William Follett had succeeded in excluding, for the present,

from evidence.) Sir William Follett objected that the question was a

leading one, and it was not pressed. The witness then stated that, a

week afterwards, he called at No. 13 Hamilton Place; asked for "Captain

Harvey Tuckett."

"_Q._--Whom did you see?

"_A._--Captain Harvey Tuckett.

"_Q._--Did you speak to him?

"_A._--I did.

"_Sir William Follett._--I wish you would put your questions

differently!

"_Attorney-General._--We ask him whom he saw.

"_Sir William Follett._--He does not know Captain Harvey Tuckett, I

suppose.

"_Q._--Did you speak to him?

"_A._--I did."

The Attorney-General then tendered the card in evidence: and Sir

William Follett, ignorant of what was written in it, (for the

Attorney-General had not specified in stating the case,) objected to

its being received. On this a very ingenious and elaborate argument

ensued between him and the Attorney-General, whether this card was or

was not admissible in evidence, at all events in that stage of the

case. The latter insisted on the affirmative, on the ground that the

card had been given to the constable in Lord Cardigan's presence, and

the constable had afterwards gone to the address specified in the

card. It was therefore a part of the _res gestæ_. "No," answered Sir

William Follett; "it does not appear who it was that gave this card,

or that Lord Cardigan saw it, nor that he knew what was written on

it. The Attorney-General is trying to prove an important fact in the

case, by an apparent _admission_ of Lord Cardigan; whereas he is not

shown to have had any cognisance whatever of the fact which he is

supposed to have admitted!" The Lord High Steward said that, at all

events, the House would postpone for the present its decision as to the

admissibility of the card. "Whether the Attorney-General," said Sir

William Follett, "will have any other evidence to prove who it was that

had given the card, or to connect the card with the Earl, is another

question"--which doubtless occasioned no little anxiety to the Earl and

his astute counsel.

The next witnesses were the miller's wife and son, who were

cross-examined by Sir William Follett irritably and severely, but

ineffectually. They did not, nevertheless, appear to carry the case

much farther than had the miller. Then came Mr Busain, the police

inspector, who gave evidence of the facts already stated in connection

with his name, in the Earl's avowal that he had just fought a duel, and

hit his man. On his being asked a very critical question, viz., as to

Captain Tuckett's having called at the magistrate's office _and given

his name_, Sir William Follett anxiously and hastily interposed--"Was

Lord Cardigan present then and there?" to which the answer was, "No,

he was not." Sir William Follett therefore succeeded in excluding what

Captain Tuckett had said on calling at the magistrate's office, and

thus again "averted the decisive stroke."[58]

Then the Attorney-General called a Mr Matthew, a chemist in the

Poultry, in whose house "Captain Tuckett" occupied rooms for business.

Mr Matthew said that Captain Tuckett lived at "No. 13, Hamilton Place,

New Road." He was then asked the Christian names of Captain Tuckett.

On this Sir William Follett interposed, and having elicited the fact

that the witness had never been at the house No. 13, Hamilton Place,

New Road, objected to the witness being asked the Christian names of

the gentleman who had lodged with the witness in the Poultry! This

objection, however, was overruled; but on the question being put, it

turned out that the only names by which the witness knew his lodger

were "Harvey Tuckett!" As a last resource, the Attorney-General called

Mr Codd, an army agent, who paid "Captain Tuckett," of the "11th Light

Dragoons," his half-pay, _and knew his name to be "Harvey Garnet Phipps

Tuckett_!!" But the witness added that he used to pay the money at his

own house in Fludyer Street, Westminster, and had never seen Captain

Tuckett except there, and at an insurance office! Again was the Earl of

Cardigan's star in the ascendant. How could the prosecutor connect the

half-pay officer spoken of by this witness, with the Captain Tuckett

shot by Lord Cardigan, and afterwards seen wounded in Hamilton Place?

The case was brought, at length, pretty nearly to a stand-still. "Is

_that_ your case, Mr Attorney?" inquired Lord Brougham; on which the

Attorney-General pressed for the decision of the House as to the

admissibility in evidence of the card which had been delivered by one

of the parties on the ground to the constable.

"_Lord High Steward._--You object to its being received, Sir William

Follett?

"_Sir William Follett._--Certainly, my lord: and I should wish to

address your lordships, if any doubt is entertained on the subject.

"_Lord High Steward._--Their lordships are ready to hear your objection.

"_Sir William Follett_, (to the Attorney-General.)--Will you let me

look at the card?"

The card was handed to Sir William Follett, who, on examining it,

addressing the Lord High Steward, said calmly and resolutely--"My lord,

I do not think it necessary to object to this card being read." And,

indeed, he had no need to do so; for, as the reader must see, it did

not advance the case a single hair's-breadth.

"Is _that_ your case, Mr Attorney?" inquired Sir William Follett, with

mingled anxiety and hope. "That, my lords, is the case on the part of

the prosecution," said the Attorney-General:--on which, turning to

the High Steward with a confident exulting air, Sir William Follett

"submitted to their lordships that no case had been made out, requiring

an answer from the prisoner at the bar."

Into what a minute point this great case had dwindled! "There is no

evidence whatever to prove," said Sir William Follett, "that the

person at whom the noble Earl is charged to have shot, on the 12th

September last, was Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett--the name contained

in every count of the indictment. The evidence would rather lead to a

contrary presumption, if presumption could be entertained in such a

case; but it is incumbent on the prosecutor to give positive evidence

of the identity of the person named in the indictment with the person

against whom the offence is alleged to have been committed.... Is

there anything before your lordships to identify the Captain Tuckett

spoken of by the army agent, Mr Codd, with the person who is said to

have been at Wimbledon Common on the 12th September last? There is

nothing whatever."--"If there be the smallest _scintilla_ of evidence,"

answered the Attorney-General, "the prosecution cannot be stopped

on this ground; and there is abundant evidence from which it may be

inferred that the person wounded in this duel was--Harvey Garnett

Phipps Tuckett. We prove that the wounded gentleman was _a_ 'Captain

Tuckett;'--that it was 'Captain _Harvey_ Tuckett:' that the wounded

Captain Tuckett lived at 13 Hamilton Place, New Road. Is there any

doubt that it was _that_ Captain Tuckett who had taken the premises in

the Poultry? When he did so, he gave a reference to No. 13 Hamilton

Place, New Road. Is it not an irresistible evidence, then, that the

Captain Tuckett of the Poultry and of Hamilton Place, and who fought

with Lord Cardigan, was one and the same person? There is only one

other stage--that this Captain Tuckett is the Captain Tuckett of whom

Mr Codd speaks. Is there not cogent evidence to prove the identity

here? Would any person, out of a court of justice, for a moment doubt

the identity here? If not, can this House undertake to say _that there

is not a scintilla_ of evidence of identity before it?" "What we

object," said Sir William Follett, in reply, "is this--that Mr Codd,

who says he knows _a_ Captain Tuckett who bears the names mentioned

in the indictment, gave no _scintilla_ of evidence to connect that

individual with the gentleman who was on Wimbledon Common on the

12th September last. It depended altogether on Mr Codd to give such

proof--and that proof he wholly failed to give. Your Lordships are now

sitting as judges, to decide solely on the evidence which has been laid

before you. The Attorney-General says that the card afforded _one_ of

the Christian names--'_Harvey_ Tuckett;' but is that proof that the

person mentioned in that card is the 'Harvey _Garnett Phipps_ Tuckett'

mentioned in this indictment? There may be two, or ten, or fifty

persons named 'Harvey Tuckett.' I ask your Lordships, sitting as judges

on a criminal case, and looking at the evidence alone--disregarding

surmise, conjecture, and what you may have heard out of doors--whether

there is any evidence to prove that the gentleman wounded on Wimbledon

Common bears the name and surname of 'Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett?'"

The Lord High Steward, during the deliberation of the House with closed

doors, delivered a luminous and convincing exposition of the legal

merits of the case before the House:--

"There is an absolute want of circumstances to connect the individual

at whom the pistol was fired, and who afterwards was seen wounded in

Hamilton Place, with the half-pay officer known to Mr Codd as bearing

the names set forth in the indictment on which your Lordships are

sitting in judgment; for the mere fact of the wounded person bearing

_some_ of the names used by the half-pay officer, is no proof that

the former and the latter are the same; and the representation by

that officer of his having held a commission in the same regiment of

which Lord Cardigan told the policeman that he himself was colonel,

(which, coupled with the actual receipt of half-pay, may sufficiently

prove that fact,) cannot, I apprehend, be turned into a presumption

that those two individuals would meet in hostile array. Here are two

distinct lines of testimony, and they never meet in the same point."

* * * * *

"No fact (_i. e._ of identity) is easier of proof in its own nature;

and numerous witnesses are always at hand to establish it, with respect

to any person conversant with society. In the present case, the

simplest means were accessible. If those who conduct the prosecution

had obtained your Lordships' order for the appearance at your bar of

Captain Tuckett, and if the witnesses of the duel had deposed to his

being the man who left the field after receiving Lord Cardigan's shot,

Mr Codd might have been asked whether that was the gentleman whom he

knew by the four names set forth in the indictment. His answer in the

affirmative would have been too conclusive on the point to admit of the

present objection being taken.

"Several other methods of proof will readily suggest themselves to your

Lordships' minds. Even if obstacles had been imposed by distance of

time and place, by the poverty of those seeking to enforce the law, by

the death of witnesses, or other casualties, it cannot be doubted that

the accused must have had the benefit of the failure of proof, however

occasioned; and here, where none of those causes can account for the

deficiency, it seems too much to require that your Lordships should

volunteer the presumption of a fact which, if true, might have been

made clear and manifest to every man's understanding by the shortest

process. Your Lordships were informed that no persons out of doors

could hesitate, on the proof now given, to decide that the identity

is well made out. Permit me, my Lords, to say that you are to decide

for yourselves upon the proofs brought before you, and that nothing

can be conceived more dangerous to the interests of justice, than for

a judicial body to indulge in any speculations on what may possibly

be said or thought by others who have not heard the same evidence,

nor act with the same responsibility, nor (possibly) confine their

attention to the evidence actually adduced. Your lordships," continued

the Lord High Steward, "sitting in this High Court of Parliament,

with the functions of a judge and a jury, I have stated my own views,

as an individual member of the court, of the question by you to be

considered, discussed, and decided. Though I have commenced the debate,

it cannot be necessary for me to disclaim the purpose of dictating

my own opinion, which is respectfully laid before you with the hope

of eliciting those of the House at large. If any other duty be cast

upon me, or if there be any more convenient course to be pursued, I

shall be greatly indebted to any of your lordships who will be so

kind as to instruct me in it. In the absence," concluded the noble

Lord, "of any other suggestion, I venture to declare my own judgment,

grounded on the reasons briefly submitted, that the Earl of Cardigan

is entitled to be declared NOT GUILTY."[59] This was followed by

the unanimous declaration of "Not Guilty,"--pronounced successively

"upon my honour"--by every peer present, beginning with the junior

baron. The only variation of the form occurred in the case of the Duke

of Cleveland, who said--instead of not guilty, upon my honour"--not

guilty, _legally_, upon my honour." The white staff of the Lord High

Steward was then broken in two; and so was dissolved the first--may it

be the last--commission, during the present century, for the trial of a

peer on a charge of felony.

Lord Denman's reasons for recommending an acquittal were unanswerable;

and by special direction of the House of Lords, though not in

conformity with precedent,[60] were published, to enable the country

to judge of the grounds on which the House had proceeded. The result,

however, so contrary to that which had been expected, excited no little

indignation; and the _bonâ fides_, even of those who conducted the

prosecution, was very sternly questioned. It was insinuated by some

of the most powerful organs of public opinion, that the prosecution

had been taken up unwillingly, and with not even ordinary precautions

to secure the ends of justice. "We ask," said the _Times_, "whether

the law officers of the Crown had no foresight to anticipate, or no

disposition to provide against, a conclusion so unsatisfactory? Is

any man capable of believing that if some tailor, or linendraper, had

been indicted at the Old Bailey for the crime of stealing--or that

he, having an honour to vindicate equally with noble lords, pistolled

and wounded one of his companions--does any man believe that, in such

a case, we should have heard of any miscarriage, or of any name that

could not be proved? Oh no! there would then have been precautions in

abundance--there would have been no loophole left--there would have

been no lack of friends and relatives carefully subpoenaed to prove all

the Christian names of the necessary party."

We ourselves have reflected frequently on the result of this trial;

and the points which have occurred to us are two. _First_, Why was not

Captain Tuckett summoned to the bar of the House of Lords--if merely to

be asked his name[61]--or even only to be pointed out to the witnesses

to see if they could identify him? The miller could have been required

to look at him, and been then asked--"Is that the person whom you saw

lying wounded on the common?"--and Mr Codd could then have been also

required to look at Captain Tuckett, and say--"Is that the gentleman

to whom you used to pay half-pay as Captain Tuckett of the 11th Light

Dragoons, and whose name you knew to be Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett?"

On both these witnesses answering these questions in the affirmative,

it would have required a thousand times even Sir William Follett's

ingenuity to suggest a further doubt on the point of identity. This

was the course which the Lord High Steward plainly pointed at, in his

address to his brother peers, as that which might have been adopted.

_Secondly_, Why was not the name of Captain Tuckett varied in various

counts of the indictment, so as to meet not every probable, but every

possible doubt and difficulty? If in one count he had been called

"Harvey Tuckett," it would have sufficed to meet the evidence actually

adduced; and the other counts might have, respectively described him

as "Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett"--"Harvey Garnett Tuckett"--"Harvey

Phipps Tuckett"--"Garnett Tuckett"--"Phipps Tuckett"--even adding to

these other combinations of the four names in which Captain Tuckett

rejoiced. To dispose first of this latter point--we verily believe

that, up to the moment when the question of identity was started, the

counsel for the prosecution, and their clients, believed that the

proof of identity was a matter of course. The indictment had been

preferred before the Grand Jury at the Central Criminal Court; and was

doubtless framed, in the ordinary course, by the clerk of indictments,

from the depositions--in which might have appeared all the four names

of Captain Tuckett, without any intimation of doubt or difficulty as

to the fact of those being his names, or as to proof that they were.

Possibly the clerk had before him a positive statement that Mr Codd,

the army agent, who paid Captain Tuckett his half-pay, could clearly

prove that his name was "Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett;" and that,

if so, it was a needless and expensive encumbering of the record to

insert counts aimed at only imaginary difficulties. The indictment

having once gone before the Grand Jury, and been returned a true bill,

no alteration could have been made in it, especially after it had been

removed by _certiorari_.... Doubtless the brief of the counsel for the

prosecution would contain the evidence of Mr Codd, in as direct and

positive a form as could be imagined; and they would regard him, as the

army-agent of Captain Tuckett, as peculiarly qualified to prove his

real names. When the difficulty had been started, we know of no degree

of ingenuity that could have been exhibited by counsel, exceeding

that of the Attorney-General, in his contests on the point with Sir

William Follett. All experienced practical lawyers will acknowledge

the probability that the solution of the question here proposed is the

true one. It is easy to be wise after the result. A blot is not a blot,

until it has been _hit_.

_Secondly_, Why was not Captain Tuckett brought to the bar, to be asked

his names, or identified by Mr Codd? There is no evidence that he

was in attendance, or that he could have been met with, at the exact

moment when his presence was required. It may have been that no order

of the House had been obtained for his attendance, only because it had

not been thought necessary--that no difficulty would arise which his

attendance could solve; and in the absence of direct legal compulsion,

Captain Tuckett may have felt it a point of honour not to volunteer

himself as a witness against his brother duellist. We can also readily

believe that the counsel for the prosecution were anxious to conduct

a perfectly novel case--the first instance on record of an attempt to

bring an abortive duel under the category of felony, with its alarming

incidents and consequences--with unusual liberality, and not to exhibit

anything like a vindictive pressure upon the accused. They also knew

that Captain Tuckett was himself liable, at that very moment, to be

placed in the same situation as Lord Cardigan, and that it would have

been idle to call before the House of Lords a witness who would come

armed with a right to decline answering any single question--possibly

even that above suggested as to his name--which he believed might even

_tend_ to criminate himself. It must also be borne in mind that the

Attorney-General boldly avowed, before the House of Lords, that he

regarded the act with which Lord Cardigan stood charged as one devoid

of "any degree of moral turpitude," and that "a conviction would

effect no discredit on the illustrious order to which he belonged."

These observations, proceeding from an Attorney-General on a solemn

official occasion, became, a few days afterwards, the subject of grave

discussion and censure in the House of Lords. But even the excellent

Earl of Mountcashel thus pointed at the practical hardship of Lord

Cardigan's position,--"An officer in the army receives an affront. His

brother officers expect he shall go out. If he do, he encounters the

pains and penalties of the statute 1 Victoria c. 85; if he refuse, he

is obnoxious to the contempt of his brother officers."[62] It was,

certainly, not to be expected that an Attorney-General, entertaining

and averring the views of duelling which he did--and having to deal

with a nobleman bearing her Majesty's commission, who was placed in the

dilemma indicated by Lord Mountcashel, and had fought his duel fairly,

and unattended by fatal consequences--should have been as eagle-eyed

a prosecutor as if he had had to deal with a man, gentle or simple,

military or civil, who had shamefully provoked, and as disgracefully

fought, a fatal duel.

Had Lord Cardigan been convicted, he had still a _chance_ of escaping

the serious personal consequences by claiming that absurd and unjust

privilege of the peerage of which Lords Mohun, Warwick, and Byron in

past times had respectively availed themselves, immediately on their

having been convicted, in cases of fatal duels, of manslaughter. This

privilege had been confirmed by statute, 1st Edward VI. c. 12, § 14,

which was passed in the year 1547, and consisted in enabling a lord of

parliament and peer of the realm to have benefit of clergy for a first

conviction of felony,--that is to say, to escape the penal consequences

of conviction, on simply alleging that he was a peer, and praying the

benefit of that act! In 1827, however, by one of the statutes which

effected so salutary a reform of our criminal law, (statute 7th and

8th Geo. IV. c. 28, § 6,) it was enacted as follows,--that "benefit

of clergy, with respect to persons convicted of felony, shall be

abolished." It had been intended, by this section, to repeal that of

the 1st Edward VI. c. 12, § 14; but serious doubts were entertained,

during the pendency of Lord Cardigan's trial, whether that intention

had been effectuated. We offer no opinion on the point, which would

have been argued, of course, with desperate pertinacity, and consummate

learning and ingenuity, had the occasion for such an exhibition arisen.

To extinguish, however, all possible doubt, and prevent any future

failure of justice, an act was passed in the same session during

which Lord Cardigan was tried, (statute 4th and 5th Vict. c. 22, 2d

June 1841,) asserting that "doubts had been entertained" whether,

notwithstanding the statute of 1827, that of 1547 "might not, for

some purposes, still remain in force." The statute of 1841 had but

one section, which declared the 1st Edward VI. c. 12, § 14, to be

"thenceforth repealed, and utterly void, and no longer of any effect;"

and enacted that "every lord of parliament, or peer of the realm having

place in parliament, against whom any indictment for felony may be

found, shall plead to such indictment, and shall, upon conviction, be

liable to the same punishment as any other of her Majesty's subjects

are, or may be, liable upon conviction for such felony."

Here stands the law of duelling, alike for lord and commoner, whom

we trust we have satisfied of the really alarming responsibilities

entailed upon those who may choose to perpetuate these outrages upon

the laws of their country.

In closing this paper, and taking leave of a painfully interesting

topic, we would fain express a hope and a belief, that a better feeling

on the subject of duelling is gaining ground, in this country, than

has existed for centuries. There is growing up a spirit of dignified

submission to the law of man, based as it is on the law of God, which

totally prohibits these unholy exhibitions of murderous malevolence.

A truer estimate is formed of the nature of HONOUR--one which forbids

alike the offering and the resenting of insults. The following noble

paragraph, recently introduced into the Articles of War, is worthy of

being written in letters of gold--of being exhibited (with suitable

variation of expression) in every place of public resort, and in every

possible manner brought under the notice of men of the world, and the

youths in our public schools:--

"We hereby declare our approbation," says her most gracious

Majesty,[63] "of the conduct of all those who, having had the

misfortune of giving offence to, or of injuring, or of insulting

others, shall frankly explain, apologise, or offer redress for the

same; or who, having had the misfortune of receiving offence, injury,

or insult from another, shall cordially accept frank explanation,

apology, or redress for the same; or who, if such explanations,

apology, or redress, are refused to be made or accepted, and the

friends of the parties shall have failed to adjust the difference,

shall intrust the matter to be dealt with by the commanding officer

of the regiment or detachment, fort or garrison; and we accordingly

acquit of disgrace, or opinion of disadvantage, all officers who, being

willing to make or accept such redress, refuse to accept challenges, as

they will only have acted as is suitable to the character of honourable

men, and have done their duty as good soldiers, who subject themselves

to discipline."

There speaks the Queen of England!

The following is the stringent Article of War (Art. 101) on the subject

of duelling:--

"Every officer who shall give, send, convey, or promote a challenge; or

who shall accept any challenge to fight a duel with another officer;

or who shall assist as a second at a duel; or who, being privy to

an intention to fight a duel, shall not take active measures to

prevent such duel; or who shall upbraid another for refusing or for

not giving a challenge; or who shall reject, or advise the rejection

of, a reasonable proposition made for the honourable adjustment of a

difference, shall be liable, if convicted by a general court-martial,

to be cashiered, or suffer such other punishment as the court may award.

"In the event of an officer being brought to a court-martial for

having assisted as a second in a duel, if it shall appear that such

officer had strenuously exerted himself to effect an adjustment of the

difference, on terms consistent with the honour of both the parties,

and shall have failed, through the unwillingness of the adverse

parties to accept terms of honourable accommodation, then our will and

pleasure is, that such officer shall suffer such punishment, other than

cashiering, as the court may award."

THE DEFENCES OF BRITAIN.[64]

Sir Francis Head is a bold man. When the cry for economy and

retrenchment, arising out of the straightened circumstances of

the nation, is at its loudest, he has ventured to argue the

proposition--once admitted as a truism, but now apparently denied

by many--that there are national duties, of surpassing magnitude,

which must be undertaken and fulfilled irrespective of pecuniary

considerations, if we intend to preserve this country, not simply

from a diminution of its greatness, but from the imminent danger of

invasion and of hostile occupation. His courage is not lessened by the

fact that, in maintaining that axiom, he is fortified by the practical

testimony, without any exception whatever, of all our greatest living

military and naval authorities; his boldness is not less notable

because the Duke of Wellington, Sir John Burgoyne, Admiral Bowes,

Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane, Sir Charles Napier, Captain Plunkett, and

others, have year after year protested against the insufficiency of our

national defences; and demonstrated that, under the present system, and

with the inadequate force at our disposal, we could not, in the event

of a rupture with France, calculate on maintaining the inviolability of

the British coast, or the security of our capital, London. He is a bold

man, and a man of moral courage, because he has ventured once more to

stem the tide of popular prejudice and clamour; to expose himself to

the sneers of the unthinking, the foolish, and the ignorant, and to the

insolent imputations of the professional agitator and demagogue. The

individual who was base enough to insult the gray hairs and honoured

age of the first soldier of the world, was not likely to refrain from

vituperation in the case of a humbler antagonist; and, accordingly,

we are not in the least degree surprised to observe, that, at a late

meeting in Wrexham, this person, Cobden, who three years ago insinuated

that the Duke of Wellington was a dotard, has now turned his battery of

coarse abuse against Sir Francis Head.[65]

We have, fortunately, something else to do than to answer the wretched

calumniator. We consider it our bounden duty, in so far as we can, to

recommend to our readers the exceedingly able and temperate work of Sir

Francis Head, which not only embraces all that can be said upon the

topic in the way of abstract argument, but exhibits in the clearest

form, and from the most authentic sources, the amount of foreign

military and naval preparation, at the present moment, as contrasted

with our own. It is, we think, a most timely and needful warning, which

every one will do well to consider, not in a rash or hasty manner,

but calmly, deliberately, and dispassionately, with reference to his

own individual interests, and to those of the nation at large. The

question, as it now presents itself to our notice, is not one of peace

or war. The most zealous peace-monger alive need not be ashamed of

adopting the conclusions or seconding the suggestions of the writer.

The question, as put by Sir Francis Head, is simply this,--Are we, or

are we not, supposing us to become involved in hostilities with France,

in a condition successfully to resist all attempts at invasion?

Of course there are several considerations collateral and connected

with this. Military and naval establishments being, in effect, the

insurance which we pay against the risk of invasion, the risk must be

calculated in order to ascertain the amount. Only in one respect the

parallel does not hold good between national and private insurance. A

man may insure his premises or his life inadequately, and yet he or

his representatives will be entitled to recover something. In the case

of a nation, inadequate insurance is really equivalent to none. Either

the insurance is good altogether, and fully adequate to the risk, or

it need not have been effected at all. Therefore, in estimating this

matter of sufficiency of defence, we must attempt to ascertain, as

clearly as can be done by human foresight, aided by past experience,

the amount of possible danger. This is unquestionably a most intricate

consideration, yet no one can deny its importance.

It is a very simple matter for those who have never turned their

attention to the state of Great Britain, as one great military and

naval power surrounded by others, to treat with entire contempt the

idea of any possibility of invasion. We have no doubt that a large

proportion of the British nation consider themselves at this moment

invincible. It is quite natural that this should be the case. We have

accustomed ourselves, in consequence of the result of the last war,

to look upon British prowess as something absolutely indomitable. The

issue of Waterloo has wiped away all memory of the disastrous retreat

to Corunna. We remember Trafalgar with pride, and forget that even in

naval matters we found our match in the American. The flag of England

has not always been supreme on the seas, or even in her own estuaries.

Little more than a century and a half has elapsed since a Dutch fleet

entered the Thames without resistance, burned the shipping in the

Medway, and held Chatham at its mercy. But the present generation knows

little about those things, and is disposed to limit its recollections

to comparatively recent events. Nor are even these viewed fairly and

fully. We are content to take the catastrophe as the measure of the

whole. We overlook the disasters, loss, misery, and bloodshed, which

our former state of bad preparation entailed upon the nation, and we

will not listen to the testimony of the great living witness--still

happily spared to us--when he raises his voice to warn us against

wilfully incurring a repetition of the same, or the infliction of worse

calamities. Not even by tradition do our common people know anything of

the horrors of foreign and invasive war. Of all the European nations

we are incomparably the least warlike in our ideas and our habits. Our

population knows nothing of military training, is wholly unaccustomed

to the use of arms. A few muskets in the hands of a few old pensioners

have been found sufficient to overawe and disperse the most infuriated

mob. And yet we are told to consider ourselves, and do in part

believe it, as capable of resisting any attempt at organised military

invasion, at a moment's notice, notwithstanding the enormous numerical

inferiority of the whole disciplined troops which we could summon from

all parts of the kingdom, to even a fractional part of the force which

could easily be brought against us!

Assuredly we have no reason or wish to undervalue the greatness of

English courage. That quality alone will turn the scale when the match

is otherwise equal. Our wild and rude ancestors, who opposed the

landing of the legions of Cæsar, were certainly not one whit inferior

in courage or in strength to their descendants, and yet those qualities

could not save them from being utterly routed by the discipline of

the Italian invaders. It may be questioned whether, in the case of

a sudden emergency, the British population at the present day could

offer so formidable a resistance to a regularly disciplined force.

The odds are that they could not. The aboriginal British tribes, like

our Highlanders in last century, were trained to the use of arms,

however simple, and versed in some kind of tactics, however rude.

They knew how to stand by each other, and they were not terrified by

the sight of blood. Whereas the modern operative, suddenly summoned

from the factory to take his place as a national defender, would be

of all creatures the most incompetent and helpless. To mount a horse,

or rather, to guide a horse when he had mounted it, would be to him a

thing impossible. He would as lieve thrust his hand into the flames as

attempt to fire a cannon. His ideas as to the distinction between the

but-end and the muzzle of a musket are so extremely indefinite, that

you might as well arm him at once with a boomerang; and the odds are,

that, in masticating a cartridge, he would consider it part of his duty

to swallow the ball. Or, supposing that his piece is adequately loaded

and primed, what is the betting that he does not bring down a comrade

instead of disabling an enemy? A random shot strikes the midriff of

Higgins, who has just patriotically rushed from the manufacture of

_domestics_ to do his duty on the battle-field. He falls gasping in his

gore; and Simpkins, who is his right-hand man, grows pale as death,

and is off in the twinkling of a billy-roller. A single bivouac, on

a frosty night, would send half the awkward squad to the hospital

shivering with ague. Those who had previously pinned their faith on

Hogarth's caricature of the spindle-shanked Frenchman toasting frogs

on the point of his rapier, would speedily discover their mistake at

the apparition of the grim, bearded, and bronzed veterans of Algeria,

armed to the teeth, and inflamed with that creditable "morale," of

which so much has been said, but which resolves itself simply into a

burning desire for vengeance on "perfidious Albion." They would then

begin, though rather late, to perceive the advantages of preparation,

discipline, and science, and bitterly to regret that they had turned a

deaf ear so long to the warnings of wisdom and experience. Discipline

is as powerful now, in strategy, as it was nineteen hundred years

ago. The cotton-clad Briton would not be one whit more able to repel

invasion than his remote skin-clad progenitor. And as for a leader,

are we liable to the charge of prejudice when we aver that we would

rather march to combat under the guidance of a Caractacus than that of

a Cobden?

But is there any chance of an invasion? We reply--that depends in a

great measure upon the extent of our actual preparation. If it is known

abroad, and notorious, that we have made our citadel impregnable,

the probabilities of any such attempt are extremely lessened. If, on

the contrary, we are manifestly unable to resist aggression, we do

unquestionably increase our risk to an enormous degree. Which of us can

calculate on our escaping from the embroilment of war, in the present

distracted state of European politics, for a year, or even for a month?

The last time we approached this subject of the national defences was

towards the commencement of the year 1848, when Cobden was attempting

to preach down military establishments. Our readers may recollect the

arguments which he used at that time. He represented that the whole

world was at profound peace and tranquillity; that the nations were

thinking of nothing else but relaxation of tariffs, and the interchange

of calicoes and corn; that men were a great deal too wise ever again

to appeal to the rude arbitration of the sword--and much more trash

of a similar nature, which seemed to give intense delight to his

cultivated Manchester audience. We considered it necessary to tie him

up to the halberts, and gave him a castigation which to this hour he

writhingly remembers. We pointed out then the utter absurdity of his

notion, that Free-trade was to supersede Christianity as a controller

of the passions of mankind; and we insisted that, so far from real

tranquillity being established on the Continent, it was "quite possible

that France may yet have to undergo another dynastic convulsion."

What followed? Before the number of the Magazine which contains that

paper was published, the Revolution broke out in France, and extended

itself over more than half the Continent. It is not yet completed, or

anything like completed--it is resolving itself into war, the natural

and inevitable sequence of all such revolutions. Hitherto we have kept

out of it by good fortune, if not by dexterous management. But our

escape was a very narrow one. Once we were so very near a rupture, that

the French ambassador was recalled from St James's, and the Russian

ambassador just about to retire. Was there no danger then? Who that

regards the political aspects abroad, will give us a guarantee that

some new emergency may not arise, involving a _casus belli_, from some

circumstance almost as trivial and insignificant as the claims of Don

Pacifico? His Holiness the Pope, in return for Mintonian advice and

Whig support, has been pleased to prefer a spiritual claim over the

British dominions--how if France, rather at a loss for some enterprise

abroad to sustain her government at home, should take a fancy for a

new crusade, and determine on backing, by temporal artillery, the less

dangerous thunders of the Vatican?

But France, say Cobden and his crew, does not desire war. Cobden is a

precious expositor of the cabinet councils of France! What took the

French to Rome? What is taking them at this moment to the eastern

frontier? Not the dread of invasion, we may be sure; for the unhappy

states of Germany have quite enough business on hand to settle among

themselves, without attempting to push westward. France may not,

indeed, desire war in the abstract, but war may become a political

necessity for France; and we think that we can discern symptoms

which indicate that the necessity must soon arrive. Once unsettle

a nation, as France has been unsettled, and there is no security

for its neighbours. France is at this time nominally a republic,

practically a military despotism. Military despotism is always, sooner

or later, compelled to support itself by aggression. It gets rid of

the contending elements within by giving them a foreign outlet; for,

if it did not do so, it must in the end inevitably succumb to anarchy.

These things may not be known in the mills, or familiar to men whose

intellect is beneath that of the aggregate average of ganders; but they

are nevertheless true, and all history confirms them.

We therefore think that--looking to the present state of the Continent

and its political relations, the hostile jealousy of some states,

and the extreme instability of others--there is anything but reason

to predict the return of a settled European peace. The first act

of the drama may have been played, but the whole piece is not yet

nearly concluded. If we are right in this, what are the chances that

we escape, whilst the other nations are contending? Extremely small.

Now, is there any man (except Cobden) silly enough to suppose, that,

in the event of further and more serious hostilities occurring on the

Continent, we should be able to escape from embroilment, _on the ground

that we have not sufficient forces in Great Britain to protect the

integrity of our shores_? If there exist any such individual, let him

go back to his Æsop, and he will find various illustrations bearing

strongly upon the subject. It is no difficult matter for the strong to

pick a quarrel with the weak. Our monstrous and almost insane position

is this, that, with all the elements of strength existing abundantly

among ourselves, we have obstinately resolved not to call them forth,

so as to prepare for any emergency, or for any contingency whatever.

Cobden's opinion is, that the governments cannot go to war, because the

people will not let them. Does the prophet of Baal allude to Russia,

Austria, Prussia, or France? We presume it will not be held that these

states fortify that opinion. If not, to _what_ governments and _what_

people does he allude? The truth is, that he is possessed by the most

monstrous hallucination which ever beset a human brain. He believes

that the population of Europe are so enamoured of his flimsy rags as

to be ready to sacrifice everything for the privilege of putting them

next their skins, and that no government dare interpose between them

and that most inestimable luxury. Whereas, in reality, Manchester and

its products are detested, both by governments and people, from one

end of Europe to the other. Why it should be so is not in the least

degree perplexing. Every nation (except perhaps our own, which is for

the present labouring under a most miserable delusion) has the natural

wish to protect and foster its internal industry. A purely agricultural

state is necessarily a very poor one--it is the mixture of agriculture

and manufactures which tends to create wealth. Our neighbours on the

Continent are doing all in their power to promote manufactures, and we

have helped them to attain their object by allowing a free export of

machinery. They have not the slightest intention of permitting that

portion of their capital, which is already invested in manufactures,

to be destroyed by submitting to the operation of Free Trade; so, very

wisely, they take advantage of our open ports to get rid of their

superfluous agricultural produce, whilst they continue or augment their

duties upon the articles of manufacture which we export. Not a man of

them would break his heart if every mill in Manchester were burned to

the ground to-morrow, nor would they subscribe one kreutzer for the

benefit of the afflicted sufferers. Such is their feeling and their

policy even in time of peace; in time of war they are somewhat apt to

clap on an entire embargo.

The governments, however, are going to war, and at war, notwithstanding

all that can be said or written to the contrary; nor have we been

able to discover that the people--at least that portion of the people

which, in time of tumult, is the most influential--has manifested

the slightest indisposition to push matters to extremity. The small

still voice of Elihu Burritt has failed to tranquillise the roar of

conflict in Denmark and the Holstein Duchies. It may possibly be matter

of wonder to some folks that all national quarrels are not instantly

submitted to the arbitration of a peripatetic blacksmith, or an equally

ubiquitous cotton-spinner. Oliver Dain, more popularly designated _Le

Diable_, had once a good deal to say in matters of state, though his

avowed function was only that of a barber, and it may be that the

Peace Congress set considerable store by that notable precedent. We,

however, are not ashamed to confess that our faith is small in the

efficacy of the Columbian Vulcan. Mars, we suspect, will prove too

much for him in the present instance, and escape the entanglement of

the net. Seriously, we apprehend that there is less to fear from the

deliberate intentions of governments, than from the inflamed passions

of the people. At all events the two co-operate, and must co-operate in

producing war; and public opinion in this country, as to the propriety

of maintaining peace, is of as little effect or practical use, owing to

our notorious weakness, as the sighing of the summer wind.

Such being the signs of conflict abroad, the next consideration is,

how are we affected by them--or rather, what course ought we to

pursue in the present distracted state of European politics? We think

that common-sense dictates the answer--we ought to prepare ourselves

against every possible emergency. We do not know from what quarter the

danger may come, or how soon; but the horizon is murky enough around

us to give warning of no common peril. What should we think of the

commander of a vessel who, at the evident approach of a storm, made no

preparation for it? Yet such is, in truth, at the present time, the

fatuous conduct of our rulers. They have been advised by the best and

most experienced pilot of their danger, and yet they will do nothing.

They are drifting on as heedlessly as if the breeze were moderate, no

reefs ahead, and no scud visible in the sky.

We have said that we do not know from what quarter the danger may come.

There is, however, one quarter from which we may, legitimately enough,

apprehend danger; and that not only on the score of most tempting

opportunity, but because from it we have, ere now, been threatened

under circumstances of greater difficulty. The meditated invasion of

England by France, under Napoleon, ought not to be effaced from the

recollection of the British people. We were then infinitely better

prepared to resist such an attempt than we are now. We had troops and

levies in abundance, a large and powerful navy, manned by experienced

sailors, and full intimation of the design; whilst, on the other hand,

the French were deficient in shipping, and, what is even more material,

unassisted by that wonderful agent steam, which has made the crossing

of the Channel in a few hours, despite of contrary winds, a matter

of absolute certainty. Because that expedition failed, is it a fair

conclusion--as we have seen it argued in the public journals--that

another expedition, aided by that science which has reduced the

intervening arm of the sea to a mere ditch or moat, must also

necessarily fail? We cannot understand such reasoning. It is allowed

by all military and naval men who have studied the subject, or written

upon it--and we confess that, in a matter of this kind, we should

prefer eminent professional opinions to the mere dicta of a journalist,

or the sweeping assertions of a civilian--that a French army could now,

by the aid of steam, be ferried across the Channel without encountering

the tremendous opposition of a fleet. If that be admitted, then

invasion becomes clearly practicable, and the next consideration is its

probability.

It is always instructive to know what is going on on the other side of

the Channel. It is no Paul Pry curiosity which prompts us to inquire

into the proceedings of our eccentric neighbours; for, somehow or

other, we very frequently find them swayed in their actions either by

our example or our position. And, in order to prosecute this inquiry,

we shall make room for Sir Francis Head, and accept such information as

he can give us:--

"There is often so much empty bluster in mere words, that,

if there existed no more positive proof of danger than the

statements, arguments and threats above quoted, we might perhaps,

in the name of 'economy,' reasonably dismiss them to the winds.

The following evidence will, however, show that the French nation,

notwithstanding the violence of the political storms which have

lately assailed them, and notwithstanding the difference of

opinion that has convulsed them, have throughout the whole period

of their afflictions, and under almost every description of

government, _steadily_, _unceasingly_, and at _vast cost_, been

making preparations for _performing_ what for more than half a

century they have THREATENED--namely, the invasion of England.

"_Extracts from the correspondence of the_ Times, _described as

from 'an Officer of Experience in our own Service._'--(See

_Times, September 10, 1850_.)

"'CHERBOURG, Saturday night.

"'The spectacle of to-day was perhaps one of the most splendid

of its kind that has been ever witnessed. Nothing short of the

terrible glories of actual warfare could have exceeded it; and,

without being an alarmist, I may safely say that the effect made

on the mind of an Englishman by such a display of force and power

on the part of an ally who has been our bitterest foe in times

gone by, in a port almost impregnable, and within a few hours'

sail of the shores of Great Britain, was not calculated to put him

at ease.'

"'CHERBOURG, Monday, _Sept. 10_.

"'There are not many Englishmen who know that, within less than

sixty-six miles of Portsmouth, there is a French port in which the

most extensive works have been for years carried on, till nature

has given way to the resources of skill and infinite art, and the

sea and land, alike overcome, have yielded to our ancient foe one

great naval entrepot,--placed in a direct line with our greatest

dockyards, fortified at an enormous cost, till it is impregnable

to everything but desperate daring and lucky hardihood, increasing

day after day in force and power, accessible from every point of

the compass and at all states of the tide to a friendly fleet,

capable of crushing beneath an almost irresistible fire the most

formidable of hostile armaments--in a word, "the eye to watch and

the arm to strike the ancient enemy." There is no geographical

necessity for such a port opposite to our coast. The commerce of

France does not need it. Our neighbours may well remark that they

are justified in protecting a place which has already felt the

force of our arms, and that they are bound to protect Cherbourg

from such a contingency as that which occurred in the last

century, when Admiral Bligh laid it in ruins. But Admiral Bligh

would not have attacked Cherbourg had it not been a menacing

warlike station; and, talk as they may, there can be no doubt that

the whole of these immense works are prepared _for a war with

England, and with England alone_. When I say this, of course I do

not mean to say that France will take any unjust advantage of her

position; but we ought not to shut our eyes to the fact that such

a place is within seven or eight hours' sail of England; and that

a French fleet leaving it in the evening with a leading wind could

be off Portsmouth next morning, and could bombard any of our towns

on the southern coast.

"On the above graphic description, the editor of the _Times_

offered to the country the following just remarks:--

"'It is impossible to forget--perhaps, without the slightest

imputation on our neighbours' good-will, we may say it was not

intended we should forget--that the fleet which issued, in such

magnificent style, from behind the Cherbourg breakwater, might

some day sail straight across the Channel; that those heavy

guns might all be pointed in anger; and that each of the black

rakish-looking steamers might throw a thousand men on a hostile

shore without warning given or suspicion raised. Such a suggestion

cannot be thought out of place or ill-timed, for doings of this

kind are the very vocation of the vessels paraded before us. If

guns were not meant to be fired, or steamers to be employed for

transport, there would be no use in manufacturing either one or

the other. From the extent of our liabilities we may measure our

precautions; and it is undoubtedly not advisable that we should be

without the wherewithal to receive such visitors as might possibly

be some day despatched from Cherbourg. The point is certainly a

brave one for the economists, who will appeal to the folly thus

probably exemplified of nations urging each other forward in the

ruinous race of public expenditure. The argument sounds very

plausible, but it is, in plain truth, impractical.'

"Lastly, during England's late disagreement with France and Russia

on the subject of Greece, after the French Ambassador had left

this country, and while the Russian Ambassador was ready to leave

it also, the _Times_, without creating the smallest excitement

throughout the country, informed its readers of two ominous facts,

namely--

"1st, That, during the said discussion, France was _increasing_

her number of seamen.

"2d, That, as soon as the foresaid discussion ended, they were

_dismissed_."

We regret to observe that, since then, the _Times_ seems to have

changed its tone on this very important subject, and it now regards

the preparation necessary to insure the security of England as too

costly for the object proposed. This is a novel view, even in ethics.

We have been taught that it was our duty, in case of necessity, to

expose even our lives in defence of our country; and we do hope that

there are some among us who still adhere to that noble lesson. No such

sacrifice is required just now. All that is demanded--and demanded

it ought to be, not by isolated writers, or even high and competent

authorities, but by the general voice of the nation--is, that our navy

should be put upon an efficient footing--that the Admiralty should

be reformed, and no chief of it appointed who is not conversant with

the details of the service of which he is selected as the head--that

no other Minto should be allowed to make his high maritime office

the source of family patronage--that a ready and constant supply of

skilled and experienced seamen should be secured--and that the vast

expenditure lavished on our ships should not be rendered nugatory

for want of hands to man them adequately when launched. Furthermore,

we require that the standing force of our army at home should be so

augmented as to render it certain that, in any sudden emergency, we may

not have to depend upon the voluntary efforts of a panic-stricken and

undisciplined mob. We have already spoken of the chances of our being

involved in war, and also of the possibility of an invasion: let us now

examine what amount of disposable forces we have ready, in the event

of such a terrible emergency. Our muster-roll, inferior certainly to

the Homeric catalogue, is as follows:--In Great Britain and Ireland we

have precisely 61,848 regular enlisted soldiers of all departments of

the service! Of these, 24,000 are stationed in Ireland alone, whence,

in the event of the occurrence of any disturbance, they could scarcely

be withdrawn; so that the whole defensible force of England and of

Scotland is reduced to rather less than 38,000 soldiers! That number

would hardly be doubled were we to add the whole of the pensioners,

more or less worn out, the corps of yeomanry, and the half-drilled

workmen of the dockyards: and with this force some of us are content to

await invasion; whilst others, more reckless still, are even clamouring

for its reduction! Farther, as if we were resolved to push on folly

to the furthest extreme, the drawing of the militia has been, by Act

of Parliament, suspended; so that even that slender thread, which

in some degree connected the civilian with the military service, has

been broken. This is the bare naked truth, with which foreigners are

perfectly well acquainted, and which they will continue to bear in

mind, notwithstanding our attempts to amuse them, with glass-houses and

gigantic toy-shops.

What would not the elder Buonaparte have given to find us in such

a state! Very far, indeed, are we from imagining that the present

President of the French Republic bears any personal ill-will to this

country, wherein he has met with much hospitality; but, giving him the

utmost credit for amicable dispositions and pacific intentions, we

cannot forget the peculiarity of the position which he occupies, or the

varied influences which control him. However we may wish to believe

the contrary, it is certain that France regards herself rather as the

rival than as the ally of England. It cannot, indeed, be otherwise.

France has recollections, not of the most soothing kind, which no lapse

of time has been able to efface; and these will infallibly, when an

opportunity occurs, regulate her future conduct.

And how stands France at this moment with regard to military

preparation? Observe--there is no enemy threatening her from without.

Of all states in Europe she is the least likely to be attacked. Yet we

find her available force as follows:--

Regular troops.

Staff, 3,826

Cavalry, 58,932

Infantry, &c., 301,224

Artillery, 30,166

Engineers, 8,727

Pontoon train, &c., 5,755

_______

Total, 408,630

Garde Nationale.

82 battalions of 1500 men, 123,000

2378 do. of 1000 men, 2,378,000

_________

2,501,000

Of whom 2,000,000 are armed with firelocks.

To the above are to be added:--

Garde Nationale of Paris, 129,800

_______

Total, 2,630,800

Together, more than three millions of trained men!

We need not dwell on the disproportion which is apparent here; indeed,

our whole task is one from which we would most willingly have been

held excused. It is not pleasant either to note or to reiterate the

undoubted fact of our weakness; and yet what help is there, when

purblind demagogues are allowed by senseless clamour to drown the

accents of a voice still speaking to us from the verge of the grave?

Let Sir Francis Head illustrate this point, and may his words sink deep

in the heart of an unwise generation.

"Why, we ask, have the Duke of Wellington's repeated prayers,

supplications, admonitions, and warnings "to various

Administrations," and through the press to the British people,

been so utterly disregarded? Without offering one word of

adulation--we have personally no reason to do so--we cannot but

observe, that no problem in science, no theory, important or

unimportant, has ever been more, thoroughly investigated than the

character of the Duke of Wellington by his fellow-countrymen.

"During the spring and summer of his life, the attention of the

British nation followed consecutively each movement of his career

in India, Portugal, Spain, Denmark, the Low Countries, France,

and latterly in the senate. In the autumn of his life, the secret

springs which had caused his principal military movements,

as well as his diplomatic arrangements, were unveiled by the

publication of despatches, letters, and notes, official as well

as private, which without palliation or comment developed the

reasons,--naked as they were born,--upon which he had acted,

on the spur of the moment, in the various predicaments in which

he had been placed. In the winter of his life, bent by age, but

with faculties matured rather than impaired by time, it has been

his well-known practice, almost at the striking of the clock, to

appear in his place in the House of Lords, ready not only to give

any reasonable explanations that might be required of him, but to

disclose his opinions and divulge his counsel on subjects of the

highest importance. Every word he has uttered in public has been

recorded; many of his private observations have been repeated;

his answers to applications of every sort have usually appeared

in print; even his "F.M." epigrammatic notes to tradesmen and

others, almost as rapidly as they were written, have not only been

published, but in one or two instances have actually been sold by

auction. Wherever he walks, rides, or travels, he is observed; in

short, there never has existed in any country a public servant

whose conduct throughout his whole life has been more scrupulously

watched, or whose sayings and doings have _by himself_ been more

guilelessly submitted to investigation. The result has been

that monuments and inscriptions in various parts of London, of

the United Kingdom, and throughout our colonial empire, testify

the opinion entertained in his favour; and yet although in the

Royal Palace, in both Houses of Parliament, at public meetings,

and in private society, every opportunity seems to be taken to

express unbounded confidence in his military judgment, sagacity,

experience, integrity and simplicity of character, yet in our

Legislature, in the Queen's Government, as well as throughout the

country, there has for many years existed, and there still exists,

an anomaly which foreigners observe with utter astonishment, and

which history will not fail to record--viz., that his opinion of

_the defenceless state of Great Britain_ has, by statesmen, and by

a nation who almost pride themselves on their total ignorance of

the requirements of war, been utterly disregarded!"

We have but little space left for further comment. We do not consider

it necessary to follow Sir Francis Head through almost any portion of

his masterly details, or to sketch, even in outline, the picture which

he has drawn of the possible consequences of our supineness. On these

points the book must speak for itself. We venture to think that it

will not be without some effect, however it may be assailed by vulgar

abuse, or depreciated by contemptible flippancy. It speaks home to the

feelings of Englishmen, has the merit of great perspicuity, and deals

prominently with facts which can neither be gainsaid nor denied.

Even to the apostles of peace--the fanatics, as we think, of the

present age--Sir Francis holds out the olive branch. He represents

to them, what they probably cannot see, that the only method of

realising their cherished idea of voluntary arbitration and reduction

of armaments, is by maintaining at a crisis like the present the true

balance of power. And certainly he is right, if there be anything at

all in their scheme. For our own part, we hold it to be absolutely and

entirely chimerical. It is a mere phase or fiction of that wretched

notion of cosmopolitanism, which some years ago was preached by

Cobden--a notion to which the events and experiences of each successive

month have given the practical lie, and which never could have been

hatched except in the addled brain of some ignorant and vainglorious

egotist. By herself, Britain must stand or fall. The good and the

evil she has done--the influence which she has exerted, one way or

the other, over the destinies of the human race, is written in the

everlasting chronicle; and her fate is in the hand of Him who raises or

crushes empires. What trials we may have to undergo--what calamities to

suffer--what moral triumphs to achieve--are known to Omnipotence alone.

But as a high rank in the scale of nations has been given us, let

us, at all events, be true to ourselves, in so far as human prudence

and manly foresight can avail. Let us not, for the sake of miserable

mammon--or, still worse, for the crude theories of a pragmatical

upstart--imperil the large liberties which have been left to us, as the

best legacy of our forefathers. Our duty is to uphold, by all the means

in our power, the honour and the integrity of our native land: nor dare

we hope for the blessing or the countenance of the all-controlling

Power, one moment after we have proved ourselves false to the country

which gave us birth.

THE POPISH PARTITION OF ENGLAND.

If a religious Revolution consists in a powerful change in the

religious feelings of a country, then are we at this moment in the

midst of a religious Revolution! If a spirit of ardour suddenly

starting forth in a period of apathy, if public zeal superseding public

indifference, and if popular fidelity to a great forgotten cause,

pledging itself to make that cause _national_ once more, exhibit an

approach to a miracle, then there has been made on the mind of England

an impression not born of man. But if those high interpositions have

always had a purpose worthy of the source from which they descend,

we must regard the present change of the general mind as only a

precaution against some mighty peril of England, or a preparation for

some comprehensive and continued triumph of principle in Europe. That

England is a tolerant country has never been questioned. Though the

whole frame of its constitution is actually founded on the supremacy

of the sovereign, and, of course, on the derivation of ecclesiastical

power, as well as of every other, from the throne; though therefore

the high appointments of the Church have been vested in the Crown,

and the subordination of the great body of the clergy has necessarily

connected them with the throne, the principle of toleration shapes all

things. The ecclesiastical constitution excludes all violence to other

disciplines; allows every division of religious opinion to take its

own way; and even suffers Popery, with all its hostility, to take its

own way--to have its churches and chapels, its public services, its

discipline, and all the formalities, however alien and obnoxious, which

it deems important to its existence.

None familiar with the history of Popery can doubt that its principle

is directly the reverse--that it tolerates no other religion; that

it suffers no other religious constitution; that where the tree of

Popery lifts its trunk and spreads its branches, all freedom of opinion

withers within its shade.

Rome, by an usurpation unexampled even in the wildest periods of

heathenism, insists on seizing that which is wholly beyond human

seizure--the conscience; demands that uniformity of opinion which it

was never within the competency of man to enforce on man; and punishes

man by the dungeon, confiscation, and death, for feelings which he can

no more control, and for truths which he can no more controvert, than

he can the movements of the stars.

If it has been argued that Protestantism is equally condemnatory of

those who dissent from its doctrine, the obvious answer is, that it

simply declares the condemnation annexed by Scripture to vice. But it

attempts no execution of that punishment, leaving the future wholly to

the mercy or the justice of the Judge of the quick and dead. Popery not

merely passes the sentence, but executes it, as far as can be done by

man. Thus the distinction is, that Protestantism goes no further than

to declare what the welfare of mankind requires to be declared. But

Popery takes the judgment into its own hands; and, where it has power,

punishes by confiscation and chains, by the dungeon and the grave.

And the especial evil of this usurpation is, that this punishment may

exist, not for notorious vice, but for conspicuous virtue; not only

that it takes God's office into its grasp, but that it insults the

whole character of God's law. It goes farther still, and gathers within

its circle of reprobation things which are wholly beyond the limit of

crime--the exercise of knowledge, the right of conscience, and the

sincerity of decision.

Yet, by this violent assumption of divine right, and lawless

comprehension of crime, Popery has slain millions!

This distinction draws the broad line between Popery and Protestantism.

The Protestant never persecutes; he is barred by his religion.

The Papist never tolerates; he is stimulated by his creed. When

Protestant worship is tolerated in Popish countries, the toleration

is either compelled by Protestant superiority, or purchased by

Popish necessities. But the claim of supremacy corrupts the whole

combination. Where it is not extorted from the hands of Government,

it still remains in the mind of the priesthood. Where it is blotted

from the statute book, it is still registered in the breviary. Where

it is extinguished by policy, it is revived by priestcraft. Like the

pestilence, disappearing from the higher orders, it lurks in the rags

of the populace, and waits only some new chance of earth or air, to

ravage the land again. Or, like the housebreaker, hiding his head while

day shines, but waiting only for nightfall to sally forth, and gather

his plunder when men are vigilant no more.

The Papal Bull which has aroused such a storm of wrath in England,

gives the full exemplification of this undying spirit of usurpation in

Popery.

Beaten down in field and council three centuries and a half

since--baffled in every attempt to domineer over England from the

Reformation--in every instance sinking from depth to depth--wholly

excluded from legislative power by the greatest of British kings,

William III., for a hundred years of the most memorable triumphs of the

constitution--Popery has now, before our eyes, to the astonishment of

our understandings, and to the resistless evidence of its own passion

for power, returned to all its old demands, and to more than its old

demands; and, as if to make the evidence more glaring, returned at the

moment when England is at the height of power, and Rome in the depth

of debasement; when England is in her meridian of intelligence, and

Rome in her midnight; when England is the great influential power of

peace and war to all nations, and when Rome is a garrison of foreign

hirelings, and her monarch the menial of their master's will.

If those demands are made, with Popery living in an actual paralysis

of all the functions of sovereignty, what would be their execution

with Popery lording it over the land? If Popery can issue these

proclamations from the floor of its dungeon, what would be the sway of

its sword when it strode over the neck of the empire? If, stript and

manacled, it can thus rage against Protestantism, what would be its

fury when, with new strength and unrestrained daring, its march headed

by treachery in the higher orders, and followed by fanaticism in the

lower, it should take possession of the Constitution?

While England was in a state of drowsy tranquillity, a Papal

Bull appeared, under the signature of Cardinal Lambruschini, the

Papal Secretary. A more daring document never was fabricated in

the haughtiest days of Papal tyranny. It divided England into

twelve Dioceses of the _Popedom_; it appointed twelve bishops, and

appropriated to them all the rights and privileges of Episcopacy in

England; and it called on all the Papists to contribute to the new pomp

of the Popish worship, and the subsistence of the Diocesans.

This document is long and desultory; but as it is of importance to lay

the case authentically before the reader, it shall be given in its own

words, abbreviating only the formalities of the verbiage.

"Pius P. P. IX.--The power of ruling the _Universal Church_, committed

by our Lord Jesus Christ to the Roman Pontiff in the person of St

Peter, _Prince of the Apostles_, hath preserved through every age in

the Apostolic See this remarkable solicitude, by which it consulteth

for the advantage of the Catholic religion in all parts of the world,

and studiously provideth for its _extension_. And this correspondeth

with the design of its Divine founder, who, when he ordained a _head_

to the Church, looked forward to the consummation of the world. Among

other nations, the famous realm of England hath experienced the effects

of this solicitude on the part of the Sovereign Pontiff."

After referring to the agency sustained by the Papacy in England from

1623, by nominal bishops, the Bull declares that, from the commencement

of his pontificate, Pius had his attention fixed on the "promotion of

the _Church's advantage in that kingdom_. Wherefore, having taken into

consideration the present state of Catholic affairs in that kingdom,

and reflecting on the _very large and everywhere increasing number_

of Catholics there; considering also that the impediments which

principally stood in the way of the _spread of Catholicity_ were daily

being removed, we judged that the time had arrived when the form of

Ecclesiastical Government in England might be brought back to that

model in which it exists freely among other nations." It seemed good

to the Pope to establish his Bishops among us, as they were in Popish

countries. The result is, "that in the kingdom of England, according to

the common rule of the Church, we constitute and decree that there be

restored the hierarchy of ordinary bishops."

Before we proceed, we must observe the quantity of assumption, even in

this fragment. 1st, That Christ gave the Headship of the _Universal

Church_, (he himself being the _only_ Head); 2d, That St Peter was the

_head_ of the apostles, (which is contradicted by the whole apostolic

history;) and 3d, That this right has _always_ and everywhere belonged

to Rome!--(a right resisted by the Greek Church, by a large portion of

even the Latin Church, by the early British Church, and by the Syrian.)

It is further admitted, that a _change_ has lately taken place in the

relative conditions of English Protestantism and Popery, and that

the appointment of bishops is for the purpose "of extending that

change"--in other words, of acquiring power, and urging proselytism, in

a Protestant state, where the Papist is tolerated only on the promise

of peace.

But all disguise is now thrown aside, as if it was no longer necessary.

The movement is acknowledged to be one of _national conversion_;

religious conquest is declared to be the object; the Pope, in planting

twelve new bishops in British sees, declares that he is resuming the

old supremacy of Rome--thus, holding out reconciliation in one hand,

and retaliation in the other, he is prepared at once to supersede the

national religion.

In conformity with this declaration, he has taken the map of England

into his hand; and, surrounded by his cardinals, has dissected it into

dioceses in the following style:--

All England and Wales shall henceforth form one Archiepiscopal Province.

In the district of London there shall be an Archbishopric of

Westminster, comprising Middlesex, Essex, and Hertfordshire.

The See of Southwark is to be suffragan to that of Westminster, and is

to comprehend the counties of Berks, Southampton, Surrey, Sussex, and

Kent, with the isles of Wight, Jersey, Guernsey, and the adjacent isles.

In the north there is to be the Diocese of Hexham.

The Diocese of York will be established at Beverley.

In the west, the See of Liverpool, comprehending the Isle of Man,

Lonsdale, Amounderness, (?) and West Derby.

The See of Salford, comprising Blackburn and Leyland.

In Wales, there shall be the Diocese of Shrewsbury, comprising

Anglesea, Caernarvon, Denbighshire, Flintshire, Merionethshire,

Montgomeryshire, Cheshire, and Salop.

And the Diocese of Newport, comprising Brecknockshire, Glamorganshire,

Carmarthenshire, Pembrokeshire, Monmouthshire, and Herefordshire.

The West is divided into two Bishoprics:--

Clifton, comprising Gloucestershire, Somersetshire, and Wiltshire; And

Plymouth, comprising Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and Cornwall.

In the Central District, the Diocese of Nottingham shall comprise

Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Lincolnshire, and

Rutlandshire.

The Diocese of Birmingham, comprising the counties of Stafford,

Warwick, Worcester, and Oxford.

The Eastern district shall form one Diocese, under the name of

Northampton.

Thus England shall form one Ecclesiastical Province, under one

Archbishop and twelve Bishops.

They are to correspond with the College de Propagandâ Fide.

The new Bishops are to be unshackled by any previous customs of the

Romish Church in England, and to have full Episcopal powers.

The Papal letter concludes by a recommendation to the Roman Catholics

of England "_to contribute, so far as in their power_," by their

pecuniary means, to the dignity of their Prelates and the "splendour of

their worship," &c.

To prevent all idea that this division is merely nominal or spiritual,

or unconnected with penalties on Protestantism, the principal Popish

journal in England has added the following comment:--

"Rome has more than spoken; she has spoken and _acted_. She has again

_divided_ our land into dioceses, and has placed over each a pastor,

to whom _all baptized persons_ (!) _without exception_ (!) within

that district, are openly _commanded_ to submit themselves in all

ecclesiastical matters, _under pain of damnation_ (!) And the _Anglican

Sees_--those ghosts of realities long past away--_are utterly ignored_."

The bull proceeds: "Thus, then, in the most flourishing kingdom of

England, there will be established one Ecclesiastical Province,

consisting of an Archbishop or metropolitan head, and twelve Bishops,

his suffragans, by whose _exertions_ and _pastoral_ cares we trust

God will give to Catholicity in that country a fruitful and daily

increasing extension.

"Wherefore we now reserve to ourselves and our successors, the Pontiffs

of Rome, the power of again _dividing_ the said province into others,

and of _increasing the number of dioceses_, as occasion shall require;

and, in general, as it shall seem fitting in the land, we may freely

declare new limits to them."

Thus we find that the Pope is to hold a perpetual bag of mitres in

his hand, out of which every aspirant for the honours of Rome and the

lucre of England is to have his dole. Every head among us that aches

for honours may now know where to look for them. Professorships and

parishes need no longer keep the new school lingering on the edge

of Popery; their _consciences_ (!) may be relieved without injuring

their pockets; they may allow themselves to "speak out;" and after

half-a-dozen years of the most stubborn denials of Popery--of paltry

protests and beggarly equivocation--of defending their orthodoxy in the

press, and betraying their apostacy in the pulpit--they will be enabled

to turn their backs on Protestantism, probably with a very useful

addition to their resources, and start up from Curates and Canons into

"My Lords." England would give very comfortable room for a speculation

of this kind. Sixpence a piece from twenty millions of people would be

better than all the Professorships of both Universities; and a seat in

the House of Lords (which would be inevitably demanded, and which would

be unhesitatingly conceded by Whig flexibility) would place the obscure

and the avaricious very much at their ease.

To a Roman financier the prospect might have other charms. The present

budget of the Popedom is supposed to be within a couple of millions

sterling, and even that paid in a manner by no means creditable to

Italian punctuality. As for the old tributes from Naples, Spain, and

France, we may fairly return them as _nil_, those powers having more

use for money than they possess bullion, and none of them being secure

of army, populace, or parliament. A twelvemonth, in these times, may

see the monarchs of the three succeeding to the vacant apartments of

the Orleans dynasty at Claremont.

But what an incomparable windfall would England be to the Papal

pauperism of these times! A bishop in every county gathering the alms

of the faithful! or, if one bishop were not enough, might not the

"sovereign pontiff," as the little Welsh Bishop reverently names Pio

Nono, make fifty? He has graciously reserved to himself the right of

"increasing and multiplying them" to the extent of all exigencies. We

might soon have a bishop in every city, or a bishop in every village.

We might have those holy locusts coming on the wing from every corner

of the Continent; those cormorants of Rome fishing in our waters, until

they carried off their prey to disgorge it into the capacious maw of

Rome!

And that this operation would take place, on the first opportunity, is

as certain as that "Peter's pence" were once raised in England with as

much regularity as the king's taxes; that every Papist in Europe paid

his portion of pence to Rome; that every bishop received his mitre

from Rome; and that Rome never gave anything without a sum in hand, or

a handsome promissory note--and that Rome boasts of being always the

same. All this traffic would be under the name of charity; the old cry

of Judas, "Ought not this ointment to have been sold for three hundred

pence, and given to the poor?" would be echoed by the new keeper of

the bag; and we should establish an annual drain of our circulation,

to which all the contrivances of taxation would be child's play. For

what could be the limit to the demands of foreign avarice invested with

domestic authority, extortion calling itself zeal? or what could be the

limits of a market selling absolution here, and Paradise hereafter, to

profligate men and silly women--to lives wallowing in voluptuousness,

and death-beds groaning in despair? It has been distinctly stated that,

at the Reformation, _one-third_ of the whole land of England had been

absorbed into the possession of the Popish priesthood!

In all the annals of usurpation, there never was a broader grasp than

in this Bull; in all the annals of effrontery there never was a more

impudent assumption; but, in all the annals of infatuation, there never

was an act of more headlong absurdity. It instantly roused the whole

people; it reinforced every argument of the honest against Popery; it

overthrew every pretence of the dishonest on behalf of Popery; and it

worked the still greater wonder of forcing the loose and the lukewarm,

the waverers and "waiters on the turn of things;" the "decently"

knavish, the "respectably" hollow, and the "reputably" unprincipled,

to acknowledge that Popery was really a "presuming kind of thing;" and

that it ought to be, in some delicate way or other, _if possible_, put

down.

But England contains other men than those smirking scandals to

manhood. The nation burst out into a flame of indignation wherever

man met man: in whatever occupation, in whatever rank of life, under

whatever form of politics, in all hues of religious opinion, there

was but one language. "Was ever insolence like this? Is a foreign

friar to carve out the empire? Is a worshipper of stocks and stones

to teach us religion? Is a persecutor to mutilate our laws? Is a

despot to scandalise our liberties? Is the dependent of France, of

Austria, or Spain, or any power that will suffer him to hang upon

it, to be the actual divider of England among his dependents? Is a

demand of power and possession, that would not be endured in any

Popish country of the earth, to be quietly submitted to in the chief

of Protestant kingdoms? And is this most insolent of all aggressions

to be inflicted by the meanest of all sovereigns on the most powerful

of all nations, and that nation the one which has most triumphantly

abjured Popery?--England--whose fathers drove it headlong from the

land, and cashiered a dynasty for daring to attempt its return; whose

Constitution loathes its tyranny, whose honour abhors its artifice,

whose literature exposes its deceptions, and whose religion brands its

apostacy!"

That this description of the national feeling is not exaggerated,

must be evident from the tone of the numberless speeches made at the

parochial and provincial meetings, immediately on the publication of

the atrocious Bull. The clergy of London and Westminster, as first

insulted, took the lead; and their language expressed the natural

feelings of offence and scorn excited by this intolerable presumption.

The sentiment was unanimous.

Of course Rome is at her old work, and every trick is tried to smooth

down the universal disdain. A Dr Ullathorne, who has taken time by

the forelock, and _bemitred_ himself without delay, wishes to tell

the world that the Bull is a very harmless bull indeed; that the

Vicars-Apostolic only wished for a change of name; and that the

appointment of dioceses is merely what the Wesleyans and Sectaries

effect, in marking out their preaching districts year by year.

But, do the Wesleyans give their preachers titles and badges of

dignity? Do they locate them in cathedrals, build palaces for them, and

enjoin the whole body of the faithful to "supply the splendour of their

worship and themselves?" Do they declare that everything in religion

is false but Wesleyanism; that all else have no orders, no Baptism, and

no Christianity; that all other beliefs are rebels to the supremacy

of John Wesley, and are liable to be punished as rebels in the coming

day of Wesleyan power? That such poor evasions should be attempted is

a scandal to the talents of Rome as an _equivocator_, but is not less

a scandal to the brains of the man who attempts them, for they can

deceive no one. They certainly have not deceived "Father Newman," who

daily trumpets forth the triumph of the Bull; nor "Dr Wiseman," who

has, by virtue of his red hat, ordered his _jubilate_ to be chanted

in every Popish chapel of London; nor the Liverpool Papists, who have

actually sung _Te Deum_ on the national victory of Popery; nor have

they deceived even the English prelacy, who had gone so much farther

than the winking Virgin, and seemed not inclined to use their eyes at

all.

Nor will they deceive the people of Scotland, who, in the land of

John Knox, are not forgotten by the Pope, but are understood to have

allotted to them seven bishops by his provident bounty, seven delegates

of Jesuitism, seven ambassadors of his triple-crowned highness, seven

sons of the Scarlet Lady of Babylon, seven "purple and fine linen"

representatives of Dives, before he was sent "_to his place_."

In the midst of this busy period, a letter appeared from the pen of the

Premier. It was received by the multitude with a burst of acclamation;

for this there were reasons of very different colours. Some were glad

that Ministers could feel _anything_ on a religious subject; some,

that Lord John was on the national side; some that, after having so

long raised the suspicions of one side, he had at last challenged the

hostility of the other.

We must acknowledge that our gratulation was not altogether so ardent,

and that we conceived this letter to be very much more the offspring of

his Lordship's fears than his feelings. It was obviously unfortunate

that his zeal had been kindled so _late_, there being no imaginable

doubt that the Pope had marked out Westminster for the See of his new

Archbishop several years ago. And it is clear, that the appointment

of one Archbishop would have been as great an encroachment as the

fixture of fifty. The principle was _there_, and it would evidently be

prolific. Yet not a syllable of remonstrance had transpired. Wisdom

was silent in the streets, and precaution slumbered within the Cabinet

curtains. Whitehall was as quiet as Lambeth, and Lambeth of course

was Lethe. No Minister hurried to the palace, with pallid lips and

faltering nerves, like him who

"Drew Priam's curtain at the dead of night,

To tell him Troy was burned."

But the Dean and Chapter of Westminster had actually attempted to break

the slumber, by an address deprecating the appointment, as utterly

unconstitutional. This occurred in 1848. It was heard of no more, and

silence came again.

As his Lordship's Letter is probably to be regarded as a Cabinet

_minute_, we shall give its chief portions _verbatim_.

It begins by referring to a letter of the Bishop of Durham, which

termed the Bull "insolent and _insidious_," the latter epithet

appearing to us to have no other merit than that of alliteration, the

measure not being _insidious_ at all--but, by a remarkable deviation

from the customary craft of the Papacy, being one of the most open and

audacious insults on record.

The Letter then proceeds to say, that its writer, having "promoted to

the utmost of his power the claims of the Roman Catholics to all civil

rights"--a fact with which the country was fully acquainted--thought

"it right, and even desirable, that the _ecclesiastical system_ of

the Roman Catholics should be the means of giving instruction to the

numerous Irish immigrants in London and elsewhere, who, without such

help, would be left in heathen ignorance."

The latter sentence we do not profess to understand. Does it allude

to any _arrangement_, by which the Papacy was to change the system

of simple superintendence, and adopt Dr Wiseman as archbishop, after

all? Is this the preliminary to further _development_, and is the

common rumour on the subject the reverse of a mistake? How the kind

of religion imported by the legions of Irish beggary into England

was to be purified by a new episcopal staff, is wholly beyond our

comprehension. Or why the Protestant people of England, after feeding

the pauperism of Ireland at home, should be bound to provide for its

heresy here--or how, for the further allurement of the superfluous

rabble of Ireland, we are to provide, for either their poverty or their

pride, the pageant of twelve Popish mitres, we must leave it to his

Lordship to explain.

His next sentence is more intelligible.

"There is an _assumption of power_ in all the documents which have come

from Rome--a pretension to supremacy over the realm of England, and

a claim to _sole and undivided_ sway, which is inconsistent with the

Queen's supremacy, with the rights of our bishops and clergy, and with

the spiritual independence of the nation, as asserted even in Roman

Catholic times."

How this discovery should have been delayed till November 1850, in the

apprehension of a public personage acquainted with the general facts

of history, handling Popish concerns all his life, and an inveterate

supporter of the Popish Bill of 1829, is not easily accounted for. But

every man of common intelligence in Europe, (his Lordship excepted,)

knew that Popery has existed in a perpetual struggle with _all_

governments for temporal supremacy, under the _pretence_ of spiritual;

that it has attempted a constant usurpation of royal authority even in

the Popish kingdoms; and that its restless appetite for power requires

constant coercion, even by those governments, to render it compatible

with any government at all. What is to be said, when Pio Nono has

excommunicated the Sardinian government before our eyes? The next

sentence is significant: "I confess that _my_ alarm is not equal to my

indignation."

Does his Lordship mean by this that we have been frightened by a

shadow, while _he_ has preserved his fortitude? or that the nation has

been somewhat inclined to play the fool in its fright, while he has

preserved his serenity through his superior knowledge? But he then

proceeds to inform us what should be the true object of national alarm,

and that is Tractarianism!

Without implying that his Lordship here employs that well-known species

of diplomacy which substitutes conjecture for reality, we shall tell

him that Tractarianism, though exciting much regret, and bringing much

discredit on the laxity of discipline which has so long suffered its

existence, is _not_ the real danger; that, compared with Popery, it is

but the "fly on the chariot wheel;" and that its influence is not to be

named for a moment beside the systematic art, the vast extent, and the

indefatigable ambition of Popery.

We are not much more reassured by his Lordship's hint of the smallness

of the Pope's territorial power.

"What is the danger to be apprehended from a foreign prince of _no

great power_, compared to the danger within the gates?" &c.

But does his Lordship conceive that we are afraid of the Pope's

territorial power?--that we are alarmed at an invasion of his Hundred

Swiss?--or that any man ever supposed that a minister in the Pontine

Marshes was to shake the Religion and State of England? The Popedom

has _always_ been a narrow territory, and yet the Papacy has been the

great disturber of Europe for a thousand years. Does his Lordship

doubt that its weapon was superstition, and that superstition was once

universal? But, while we can feel no terror at the sickly absurdities

of a few fanatics, or the low artifices of a few hunters after vulgar

popularity, who have never reckoned within their ranks any one man

of name, or ability, or learning, or even of station--who owe their

sole publicity to what the Bishop of London calls a "poor imitation of

Popery," and whose bowings and gesticulations are actually objects of

national ridicule--we see a wholly different antagonist in a system,

possessed of the power of the multitude, addressing itself to every

weakness and pampering every passion of man, offering every prize to

avarice, and stimulating every appetite for possession; unceasing

in pursuit of all its objects, and making everything an object;

desperately inimical to religious liberty, and perpetually labouring

to establish over every people an authority fatal to the progress of

mankind. We see it now with a hundred and forty millions of souls in

Popish Europe, with nearly all the Continental thrones Popish, with

hundreds of thousands of monks and friars devoted to all the purposes

of its ambition, with its seculars mingled through every population,

and with the wealth of the whole Popish community ready to be lavished

in a crusade of Monkism. We must confess that we feel as much anxiety

in the issue of a contest with such a power as is consistent with a

feeling of courage in the performance of our duty.

We have never doubted that England, under the protection of a higher

power than man, and awakened to a sense of her peril, will triumph in

the most hazardous struggle. But her safety must be grounded on her

vigilance. The sleeping giant is as helpless as a child.

So fully are we convinced that Rome is the _real_ danger, that we

not merely laugh at Tractarianism, in comparison, but we look with

suspicion on every attempt to set it up as _the_ danger. To compare

this dwarf with the gigantic bulk of Popery seems absurd; and we must

therefore reject it as argument altogether. It is also unfortunate for

this bugbear that it has been so slow in its discovery, and that the

Ministerial terrors have already slept so long, Tractarianism being now

a well-grown peril--its siege of the Church having already lasted some

years beyond the renowned siege of Troy!

The Letter, however, closes with the spirit of an enthusiast in the

"good cause,"--"I will not abate a jot of heart or hope so long as the

_glorious principles_ and the _immortal martyrs of the Reformation_

shall be held in reverence by the great mass of a nation which looks

with contempt on the _mummeries_ of superstition."

All this is what Dominie Sampson would have pronounced "prodigious!"

with his loudest and longest suspiration. And all is eminently curious,

in the man whose whole career has been devotion to every Popish demand,

and advocacy of every Popish measure; who has risen into office by the

influence of Popish voices, and who has been in the _intima concilia_

of the imaginary Archbishop of Westminster!

Must not Protestants ask, By whose advice was Mr Wyse planted in the

Greek embassy?--by whom was Mr O'Farril planted in the government of

Malta?--by whom was Mr Shiel planted in the embassy to Tuscany--or

rather to the whole of western and middle Italy, and in immediate

approximation to Rome? Were three Papists selected for those express,

and at present most important missions, without a purpose?--were they

flung up merely by the diplomatic wheel?--or were those extraordinary

appointments of untried men produced by a sudden, and a _Papal_ demand,

for the support of a plan?

But this is a time of wonders, and his Lordship's conversion may rank

at the summit of them all. However, there is a reason for everything

in art and nature; and it is said that a very high personage had a

share in this rapid operation on the Ministerial understanding; that

the question was asked,--"Pray, who is to be the sovereign?" and

that the answer was his Lordship's letter. It concludes by giving

the _coup-de-grace_ to the character of Popery, of whose present

performances it speaks with scorn, as "laborious endeavours to _confine

the intellect, and enslave the soul_."--(Downing Street, Nov. 4.)

In the meantime "my Lord Cardinal," who had stopped in his posthaste

journey, on learning John Bull's theological opinions of his Manifesto,

was comforted by an emissary despatched to inform him that the bonfires

of the 5th of November had all been suffered to sink into ashes, and

that he would escape any severer trial of his fortitude than being

burnt in effigy. But the Doctor, now fearless of his _auto-da-fé_,

is also said to have determined on carrying the war into the enemy's

quarters, and showing that every step which he has taken has been

_sanctioned_ by his denouncers; and that, instead of being the foolish

and impudent intruder which the public have believed him to be, he has

been actually only the submissive follower and ready agent of councils

far enough removed from the Quirinal.