and, pretty generally, even of a base mind. But, they tipple; and the infernal spirits they tipple too! The scenes that I witnessed at Harrisburgh I shall never forget. I almost wished (God forgive me!) that there were Boroughmongers here to tax these drinkers; they would soon reduce them to a moderate dose. Any nation that feels itself uneasy with its fulness of good things, has only to resort to an application of Boroughmongers." We have all, one way or another, heard of Cobbett's Potato-phobia. From a furious diatribe against "the Lazy Root," he slides into the following exquisite Squabash of MILTON and SHAKESPEARE. Here is, indeed, the ne-plus-ultra of Cobbettism. "I think it a subject of great impor, tance; I regard the praises of this root, and the preference giving to it before corn, and even some other roots, to have arisen from a sort of monkey-like imitation. It has become, of late years, the fashion to extol the virtues of potatoes, as it has been to admire the writings of Milton and Shakespeare. God, almighty and all fore-seeing, first permitting his chief angel to be dispo. sed to rebel against him; his permitting him to enlist whole squadrons of angels under his banners; his permitting this host to come and dispute with him the throne of heaven; his permitting the contest to be long, and, at one time, doubtful; his permitting the devils to bring cannon into this battle in the clouds; his permitting one devil, or angel, I forget which, to be split down the middle, from crowr. to crotch, as we split a pig; his permitting the two halves, intestines and all, to go slap, up together again, and become a perfect body; his then causing all the devil host to be tumbled head-long down into a place called Hell, of the local situation of which no man can have an idea; his causing gates, (iron gates too,) to be erected to keep the devil in; his permitting him to get out, nevertheless, and to come and destroy the peace and happiness of his new creation; his causing his son to take a pair of compasses out of a drawer, to trace the form of the earth; all this, and, indeed, the whole of Milton's poem, is such barbarous trash, so outrageously offensive to reason and to common sense, that one is naturally led to wonder how it can have been tolera ted by a people, amongst whom astronomy, navigation, and chemistry, are understood. But, it is the fashion to turn up the eyes, when Paradise Lost is mentioned; and, if you fail herein, you want taste; you want judgment even, if you do not admire this absurd and ridiculous stuff, when, if one of your relations were to write a letter in the same strain, you would send him to a madhouse, and take his estate. It is the sacri ficing reason to fashion. And as to the other 'Divine Bard," the case is still more provoking. After his ghosts, witches, sorcerers, fairies, and monsters; after his bombast, and puns, and smut, which appear to have been not much relished by his comparatively rude contemporaries, had had their full swing; after hundreds of thousands of pounds had been expended upon embellishing his works; after numerous commentators, and engravers, and painters, after jubilees had been held in honour of and booksellers, had got fat upon the trade; his memory; at a time when there were men, otherwise of apparently good sense, who were what was aptly enough termed Shakespeare-mad. At this very moment an occurrence took place, which must have put an end, for ever, to this national folly, had it not been kept up by infatuation and obstinacy without parallel. Young IRELAND, I think his name was WILLIAM, no matter from what motive, though I never could see any harm in his motive, and have always thought him a man most unjustly and brutally used. No matter, however, what were the inducing circumstances, or the motives, he did write, and bring forth, as being Shakespeare's, some plays, a prayer, and a love-letter. The learned men of Eng land, Ireland, and Scotland, met to examine these performances. Some doubted, a few denied; but, the far greater part, amongst whom were DRPARR, DR WHARTON, and MR GEORGE CHALMERS, declared, in the most positive terms, that no man but Shakespeare could have written those things. There was a division; but this division arose more from a suspicion of some trick, than from anything to be urged against the merit of the writings. The plays went so far as to be ACTED. Long lists of subscribers appeared to the work. And, in short, it was decided, in the most unequivocal manner, that this young man, of sixteen years of age, had written so nearly like Shakespeare, that a majority of the learned and critical classes of the nation most firmly believed the writings to be Shakespeare's; and, there cannot be a doubt, that, if Mr Ireland had been able to keep his secret, they would have passed for Shakespeare's till the time shall come when the whole heap of trash will, by the natural good sense of the nation, be consigned to everlasting oblivion; and, indeed, as folly ever doats on a darling, it is very likely, that these last found productions of 6 our immortal bard' would have been regarded as his best. Yet, in spite of all this; in spite of what one would have thought was sufficient to make blind people see, the fashion has been kept up; and, what excites something morethan ridicule and contempt, Mr Ireland, whose writings had been ta ken for Shakespeare's, was, when he made the discovery, treated as an impostor and a cheat, and hunted down with as much ran 1823. On Cobbett, &c. &c. &c. cour as if he had written against the buy- "It is fashion, sir, to which, in these How they must be delighted at the story of Of course, our friend turned to a beautifully browned potato-pudding immediately after this-nor am I so uncharitable that I would not believe him to have read the Merry Wives of Windsor over the same evening, with a good can of ale at his elbow. These are all things of course. It is Cobbett we have to do with. But time about is fair play-you shall not only admire the next extract you shall agree with it. He is knocking down those fine-hearted folks who object to rural sports, on the score of cruelty. "These gentlemen forget the operations performed upon calves, pigs, lambs, and sometimes on poultry. Sir ISAAC COFFIN prides himself upon teaching the English ladies how to make turkey-capons! Only think of the separation of calves, pigs, and lambs, at an early age, from their mothers! Go, you sentimental eaters of veal, sucking pig, and lamb, and hear the mournful lowings, whinings, and bleatings; observe the anxious listen, the wistful look, and the dropping tear, of the disconsolate dams; and, then, while you have the carcases of their young ones under your teeth, cry out as soon as you can empty your mouths a "Taking it for granted, then, that sportsmen are as good as other folks on the score of humanity, the sports of the field, like everything else done in the fields, tend to produce, or preserve health. I prefer them to all other pastime, because they produce early rising; because they have no tendency to lead young men into vicious habits. It is where men congregate that the vices haunt. A hunter or a shooter may also be a gambler and a drinker; but he is less like little, against the cruelty of hunting and shooting. Get up from dinner (but take care to stuff well first,) and go and drown the puppies of the bitch, and the kittens of the cat, lest they should share a little in what their mothers have guarded with so much fidelity; and, as good stuffing may tend to make you restless in the night, or der the geese to be picked alive, that, how ever your consciences may feel, your bed, at least, may be easy and soft. Witness all this with your own eyes; and then go weeply to be fond of the two latter, if he be fond ing to bed, at the possibility of a hare ha ving been terribly frightened without being killed, or of a bird having been left in a thicket with a shot in its body, or a fracture in its wing. But, before you go up stairs, give your servants orders to be early at market for fish, fresh out of the water, that they may be scaled, or skinned alive! A truce with you, then, sentimental eaters of flesh; and here I propose the terms of a lasting compromise with you. We must, on each side, yield something. We sportsmen will content ourselves with merely seeing the hares skip and the birds fly; and you shall be content with the flesh and fish that come from cases of natural death, of which, I am sure, your compassionate disposition will not refuse us a trifling allowance. "Nor have even the Pythagoreans a much better battery against us. Sir RICHARD PHILLIPS, who once rang a peal in my ears against shooting and hunting, does, indeed, eat neither flesh, fish, nor fowl. His abstinence surpasses that of a Carmelite, while his bulk would not disgrace a Bene. dictine Monk, or a Protestant Dean. But, he forgets, that his shoes, and breeches, and gloves, are made of the skins of animals. He forgets that he writes, and very eloquently too, (O, Cobbett, this is much even from you!) with what has been cruelly taken from a fowl; and that, in order to cover the books which he has had made and sold, hundreds of flocks and scores of droves must have perished: nay, that, to get him his beaver-hat, a beaver must have been hunted and killed, and, in the doing of which, many beavers have been wounded, and left to pine away the rest of their lives; and, perhaps, many little orphan beavers, left to lament the murder of their parents. BEN LEY was the only real and sincere Pythagorean of modern times that I ever heard of. He protested, not only against eating the flesh of animals, but also against robbing their backs; and, therefore, his dress consisted wholly of flax. But, even he, like Sir Richard Phillips, eat milk, butter, cheese, and eggs; though this was cruelly robbing the hens, cows, and calves; and, indeed, causing the murder of the calves. In addition, poor little BEN forgot the materials of book-binding; and, it was well he did; for else, his Bible would have gone into the fire! of the former. Boys will take to something in the way of pastime; and it is better that they take to that which is innocent, healthy, and manly, than that which is vicious, unhealthy, and effeminate. Besides, the scenes of rural sport are necessarily at a distance from cities and towns. This is another great consideration; for though great talents are wanted to be employed in the hives of men, they are very rarely acquired in these hives; the surrounding objects are too numerous, too near the eye, too frequently under it, and too artificial. "For these reasons I have always encouraged my sons to pursue these sports. They have, until the age of 14 or 15, spent their time, by day, chiefly amongst horses and dogs, and in the fields and farm-yard; and their candle-light has been spent chiefly in reading books about hunting and shooting, and about dogs and horses. I have supplied them plentifully with books and prints relating to these matters. They have drawn horses, dogs, and game themselves. These things, in which they took so deep an interest, not only engaged their attention, and wholly kept them from all taste for, and even all knowledge of, cards and other senseless amusements; but they led them to read and write of their own accord; and, never in my life have I set them a copy in writing, nor attempted to teach them a word of reading. They have learnt to read by looking into books about dogs and game; and they have learnt to write by imitating my writing, and by writing endless letters to me, when I have been from home, about their dogs and other rural concerns. While the Borough-tyrants had me in Newgate for two years, with a thousand pounds fine, for having expressed my indignation at their flogging of Englishmen, in the heart of England, under a guard of Hanoverian sabres, I received volumes of letters from my children; and, I have them now, from the scrawl of three years, to the neat and beautiful hand of thirteen. I never told them of any errors in their letters. All was well. The best evidence of the utility of their writing, and the strongest encouragement to write again, was a very clear answer from me, in a very precise hand, and upon very nice paper, which they never failed promptly to receive. They have all written to me before they could form a single letter. A little bit of paper, with some ink-marks on it, folded up by themselves, and a wafer stuck in it, used to be sent to me, and it was sure to bring the writer a very, very kind answer. Thus have they gone on. So far from being a trouble to me, they have been all pleasure and advantage. For many years they have been so many secretaries. I have dictated scores of Registers to them, which have gone to the press without my ever looking at them. I dictated Registers to them at the age of thirteen, and even of twelve. They have, as to trust-worthiness, been grown persons, at eleven or twelve. I could leave my house and affairs, the paying of men, or the going from home on business, to them, at an age when boys in England, in general, want servants to watch them, to see that they do not kill chickens, torment kittens, or set the buildings on fire. "Here is a good deal of boasting; but, it will not be denied, that I have done a great deal in a short public life, and I see no harm in telling my readers of any of the means that I have employed; especially as I know of few greater misfortunes than that of breeding up things to be school-boys all their lives. It is not, that I have so many wonders of the world: it is that I have pursued a rational plan of education, and one that any man may pursue, if he will, with similar effects. I remember, too, that I myself had had a sportsman-education. I ran after the hare-hounds at the age of nine or ten. I have many and many a day left the rooks to dig up the wheat and pease, while I followed the hounds; and have returned home at dark-night, with my legs full of thorns, and my belly empty, to go supperless to bed, and to congratulate my self if I escaped a flogging. I was sure of these consequences; but that had not the smallest effect in restraining me. All the lectures, all the threats, vanished from my mind in a moment upon hearing the first cry of the hounds, at which my heart used to be ready to bound out of my body. I remembered all this. I traced to this taste my contempt for card-playing, and for all childish and effeminate amusements. And, therefore, I resolved to leave the same course freely open to my sons. This is my plan of education; others may follow what plan they please." The following is a capital specimen of the sudden sarcasm of Cobbett. "An American counts the cost of powder and shot. If he is deliberate in everything else, this habit will hardly forsake him in the act of shooting. When the sentimental flesh-eaters hear the report of his gun, they may begin to pull out their white handkerchiefs; for death follows his pull of the trigger, with, perhaps, even more certainty than it used to follow the lancet of DOCTOR RUSH." Of course, the reader is aware that Cobbett's original banishment from America was the consequence of a fine imposed upon him, for a gross libel upon the character of that truly emifather to the present minister at St nent person, Dr Rush, of Philadelphia, James's-yet how good is the cut! I had occasion to allude, on a former occasion, to part of what follows. It occurs in the midst of one of Cobbett's disquisitions on the political constitution of the United States. "The suffrage, or qualification of electors, is very various. In some States, every free man, that is, every man who is not bondman or slave, has a vote. In others, the payment of a tax is required. In others, a man must be worth a hundred pounds. In Virginia a man must be a freeholder. "This may serve to shew how little Mr JERRY BENTHAM, the new Mentor of the Westminster Telemachus, knows about the political part of the American governments. Jerry, whose great, and, indeed, only argument, in support of annual parliaments and universal suffrage, is, that America is so happy under such a system, has, if we were to own him, furnished our enemies with a complete answer; for they have, in order to silence him, only to refer to the facts of his argument of happy experience. By silencing him, however, I do not mean the stopping of his tongue, or pen; for nothing but mortality will ever do that. This everlasting babbler has aimed a sort of stiletto stroke at me; for what, God knows, except it be to act a consistent part, by endeavouring to murder the man whom he has so frequently robbed, and whose facts and thoughts, though disguised and disgraced by the robber's quaint phraseology, constitute the better part of his book. Jerry, who was made a Reformer by PITT's refusal to give him a contract to build a penitentiary, and to make him prime administrator of penance, that is to say, Beggar-Whipper General, is a very proper person to be toasted by those who have plotted and conspired against Major Cartwright. Mr BROUGHAM praises Jerry; THAT IS ENOUGH!" Hear also this truth-for truth it is, though Cobbett speaks. "The grand ideas about the extension of the empire of the United States, are of very questionable soundness: and they become more questionable from being echoed by the Edinburgh Reviewers, a set of the meanest politicians that ever touched pen and paper. UPON ANY GREAT QUESTION THEY NEVER HAVE BEEN RIGHT, EVEN BY accident, WHICH IS VERY HARD!" The following is a fair specimen of "Cobbett merry." "I have sometimes been half tempted to believe, that the Magpie first suggested to tyrants the idea of having a tithe-eating Clergy. The Magpie devours the corn and grain; so does the Parson. The Magpie takes the wool from the sheep's backs; so does the Parson. The Magpie devours alike the young animals and the eggs; so does the Parson. The Magpie's clack is everlastingly going; so is the Parson's. The Magpie repeats by rote words that are taught it; so does the Parson. The Magpie is always skipping and hopping and peeping into other's nests; so is the Parson. The Magpie's colour is partly black and partly white; so is the Parson's. The Magpie's greediness, impudence, and cruelty, are proverbial; so are those of the Parson. I was saying to a farmer the other day, that if the Boroughmongers had a mind to ruin America, they would, another time, send over five or six good large flocks of Magpies, instead of five or six of their armies." Take this for another specimen of his merriment! "I am happy to tell you, that Ellenborough and Gibbs have retired! Ill health is the pretence. I never yet knew ill health induce such fellows to loosen their grasp of the public purse. But, be it so: then I feel pleasure on that account. To all the other pangs of body and mind, let them add that of knowing, that William Cobbett, whom they thought they had put down for ever, if not killed, lives to RE JOICE AT THEIR PAINS AND THEIR Was there ever such a fiend! Well; but the fiend has at least the merit of speaking out. So much for Cobbett's account of his year's residence in Long-Island. Another book of his, that I expected a great deal from, disappointed me sadly-his Sermons. I expected, I know not what; but I found nothing -not even wickedness enough to season their dulness: for they are dull. I shall conclude, in fairness to Cobbett, with quoting from one of his late Registers, a part of a letter to Mr, or, as he calls him," Parson," Malthus. Co lonel David Stewart's account of ancient and modern Athol, in his History of the Highland Regiments, might furnish Cobbett with some very striking additional arguments. In point of fact, I have always thought that Cobbett has the better of Malthus in many parts of this controversy. "When people see new houses, they are apt to think that they see signs of increase; and this they certainly do see, where they see the boundaries of towns and cities extend themselves; where they see whole towns rising up here and there as round this WEN. But, to see new houses building in towns and villages, is no sign of increase, any more than it is to see wheat stacks building in a farm-yard. It is true, these are new stacks; but they only come to replace others that are just taken away. Houses are continually wearing out; and if, upon going through a town or a village, you do not see one new house; one house built this very year; one of these for every forty houses that the town or village contains; you may set down that town or village as being in a state of decay. In mere villages, where the houses are weak, there ought to be one new one out of every twenty; for these frail houses do not last, upon an average, above twenty years. "Let any man take these observations for his guide; let him go through the country towns and villages, particularly those to the westward, once so populous. Let him take notice of the tumbling down houses; of the totally dismantled small farm-houses. Let him look at the little barns, and yards that were formerly homesteads, and that are now become mere cattle sheds. Let him look at that which was the farm-house, but which is now become the miserable abode of two or three labourers and their families, who are perishing with hunger, cold and nakedness, beneath that roof where ease and happiness dwelt, until the accursed paper-money system laid its fangs upon the country. All these small farm-houses have disappeared; and yet the villages have grown smaller and smaller. The accursed paper-money has drawn the wretched people into crowded masses. All the laws have had the same tendency. That mixture of agricultural with manufacturing pursuits, which was so favourable to the health and morals of the people, and to their ease and comfort, at the same time; this is gone from the villages and country towns; and the population is gone along with it; and gone, too, to become a sort of slaves, regularly drilled to their work, and kept at it very nearly literally under the lash. "Accordingly, there is scarcely a village, at a distance from fundholders, ma nufacturing rendezvouses, watering-places, sea-ports, or barracks: there is scarcely a village at a distance from all these, which contains a fourth part of the people that it formerly contained. I have mentioned above twenty parishes by name. In most of these The name for London all through Cobbett's works. |