nounced as a monstrous iniquity the publication of parliamentary debates. Lord Hervey, in his "Memoirs of the Reign of George II.," thus alludes to Sir William Yonge: "He had no wit in private conversation; but he was remarkably quick in taking hints to harangue upon in Parliament; he had a knack of words there that was surprising, considering how little use they were to him anywhere else. He had a great command of what is called parliamentary language, and a talent of talking eloquently without a meaning, and expatiating agreeably upon nothing beyond any man, I believe, that ever had the gift of speech." The same author adds: His name was proverbially used to express everything pitiful, corrupt, and contemptible." Although reporters are nightly in Parliament, their presence there is still felt as a great check upon the many modern William Yonges, who resemble him in his "talent of talking with a meaning," though not so much in his elegance, and who are doomed to find their speeches treated with a brevity proportionate to their intrinsic demerits. The history of Parliamentary reporting may be said to commence with the year 1771-just ninety-one years ago-when the courage of the London Corporation foiled the House of Commons in its attempt to punish printers of newspapers for publishing the debates. The right of the public to know what was said and done in Parliament was sulkily and grudgingly admitted. For a long time no accommodation was afforded to the reporters. On the contrary, they were liable to be arrested if seen taking a note of what was said by the Lords or Commons. The consequence was, that persons were to be found capable of remembering the substance of a debate, such as William Radcliffe, the husband of the celebrated novelist, and William Woodfall, who was known by the name of " Memory Woodfall." Then came another change, the introduction of several reporters for the same papera change first effected by Mr. Perry, the proprietor of the "Morning Chronicle," to whom, with Mr. Walter of the "Times," the country is indebted beyond all other persons, for embodying that most remarkable class of men. They were followed by Mr. Thwaites, of the "Morning Herald," and then by the "Morning Post." Mr. Perry first established a corps of Parliamentary reporters; but Mr. Walter, in forming a Parliamentary staff, sought to improve its quality, and to have the very best men connected with his journal. Upon that principle the "Times" has invariably acted; and all that the other journals have ever been able to do is to compete with it in attaching to their respective staffs those persons of the most various accomplishments and acquirements who were desirous of entering "the gallery." It may be necessary here to explain that there are, or should be, connected with the London morning newspapers, three classes of reporters; first, the "Parliamentary," second, "the law," and thirdly, "the casual" reporters. The last give an account of inquests, the proceedings in policeoffices, or public meetings of various kinds; the second report the legal proceedings in the House of Lords, the Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, &c., and the assizes; the first have as their sole and exclusive duty the reporting the debates in both Houses of Parliament. The inducements to a gentleman of high qualifications to become a Parliamentary reporter were these he had a permanent annual engagement, at a certain salary—the lowest being five guineas a week-and this paid whether the parliament was sitting or not. By no possibility (if expected to be in either house the same night) could he be required to do anything during the regular sitting of Parliament before four o'clock in the afternoon; and as Wednesday was seldom a day of much labour, he had, even whilst Parliament was sitting, the prospect of not more than four days of toil and anxiety. This abundance of time was afforded to him to prepare himself for any profession he chose, or to occupy his leisure hours in every day, and his leisure days in every week, and his leisure months in every year in other literary and profitable occupations, whether writing for weekly or country newspapers, or contributing to the magazines or quarterly reviews, or seeking to establish a name for himself as an author. Such were the inducements to young men to become Parliamentary reporters, and it is not surprising that they proved effective; for instance, to take the best-known living specimens of their class, they brought into the gallery Mr. W. H. Russell, whom we proudly claim as a countryman, the Crimean, Indian, and (for a time) American correspondent of the "Times,” and Charles Dickens, who never was connected with that paper, but left the "Mirror of Parliament," which paid a guinea "a turn," to become a regular Parliamentary reporter on the "Morning Chronicle." As an evidence of what was effected by newspapers in former times, we may refer to the Edinburgh banquet, in 1834, to Earl Grey, at which speeches were delivered by Lord Brougham and Lord Durham, which proved that division was already rending to pieces the Reform Ministry. To this banquet the "Times" and the "Chronicle" sent their best Parlia mentary reporters. The former was represented by John Tyas, James Woods, James Sheridan, and Eugene Nugent; the latter by Thomas Beard and Charles Dickens. The Jupiter Tonans of Printing-house-square won the race, its report being published in London several hours before the "Chronicle" reporters-although travelling all the way in a postchaise-and-four-could reach London. The manner in which it was won was this: The "Times," by sending so many reporters to Edinburgh, calculated that on their return they would have finished the account of the banquet before they reached Wetherby; and all the way from that place, Mr. Delane, the manager of the "Times," and the most marvellous arranger of expresses that ever existed, had posted single horses to carry up with a speed that can now only be surpassed by an express railway train the report, so as to have it printed and circulated all over London at an early hour in the morning! That trip alone cost the "Chronicle" £400. How much the expenditure of the "Times" was on the same occasion we are not aware, but it may be fairly supposed it was much more. We refer to this fact as an illustration of the energy and power the "Times" has shown on all occasions requiring the manifestation of such qualities; but we have another purpose in alluding to it, and that is to show the manner in which that journal acts towards those who have devoted them selves to its service. All its Parliamentary reporters who were at that banquet are now dead. Two of them-Nugent and Sheridan-died very young. The latter, who caught a cold by going outside a chaise to urge the post-boys to a greater speed, was cared for by the "Times" in his sickness, sent down to Devonshire, and an ample allowance to the day of his death provided for him. Upon Mr. Woods retiring from the gallery, £300 a year was settled on him, and the same sum was bestowed annually upon Mr. Tyas, of whom it may be remarked that he was a distinguished Greek scholar. The munificent treatment which the widow and family of Mr. Bowlby, who was so inhumanly put to death while acting as special correspondent to the "Times" during the last China war, received at the hands of its proprietors will, doubtless, be fresh in the recollection of our readers. When, however, there was not that organization which seems only to be found in the "Times" office, the energy and talent of individuals employed on other newsp pers were often found capable of compensation for it, as, for instance, at the Glasgow Banquet, in January, 1837, to Sir Robert Peel. At an hour's notice, the leading reporter of the "Morning Chronicle," Mr. Beard, had to start for Glasgow, was for sixty hours on the outside of the coach, and for the greater part of the time in a snow storm; had, on his arrival in Glasgow, to seek out tickets to enable him to attend the inauguration and banquet in the evening; then to start at once in a post-chaise for Manchester, writing all the time until he reached that city; and then, with only a few hours' rest, to start the next day for Leeds, where a banquet was given to Lord Morpeth (the present Lord Lieutenant of Ireland), to write out that report while posting up to London; aud, amid all those difficulties, to produce a composition which excited the admiration of all who read it, and so much wonder in the principal speaker, Lord Morpeth, that he called at the "Chronicle" office to express not merely the satisfaction it had afforded, but to express his desire to become acquainted with the reporter. But we must pause here in reference to the "gallery," and the many accomplished gentlemen who have filled, or still occupy a seat in it. In the new Houses of Parliament there are galleries exclusively appropriated to the use of the reporters, with apartments attached, and to which none but themselves have the night of access; and so the "fourth estate" the representatives of the absent public-are firmly established at their posts, and thus both branches of the legislature seem to say to the Parliamentary reporters, Let the people know how we are discharging the task we have undertaken to perform"-" Fac omnem auritum populum." In London the great struggle for publicity was against the Parliament; but out of London a contest of another kind was going on-and that was to secure publicity in every place where the law was nominally administered, and practical injustice done. There have been times when judges have sought to restrain the publication of pending trials-when they have assumed a censorship over the press, and, by fines and imprisonment, endeavoured to compel journalists to obey capricious and despotic ordi nances. Presidents of courts-martial sought to act in the same dictatorial spirit towards the press; but they have abandoned the attempt ever since the year 1830, when, in the trial of Cardigan v. Reynolds, at Brighton, the London journals treated the prohibition of the president against publication as a nullity-a proceeding which both the Irish and English press has since adopted as a rule. The appearance of reporters in courts of justice was long discountenanced, although their reporting was not prohibited. A curious history could be told of the efforts made by those in office to render reporting a difficulty, and, in some cases, an impossibility. The brave men who, in their several localities, fought, at their own risk, for the rights of the public, remain unknown, because no one has taken the trouble to ascertain how very few years have passed away since "accommodation" was, by order of the judges and high sheriffs, "made for the representatives of the press." Its rights are now universally acknowledged; the memory of the members of the press by whom they were vindicated in Ireland, England, and Scotland, seems destined to be consigned to a speedy and ever-enduring oblivion. As reporting is now a scientific profession, the following note may prove of interest to "gentlemen of the fourth estate." According to O'Halloran's "History of Ireland," published in Limerick, in 1788, Bille, a Milesian King who reigned over a portion of Spain in the year of the world 2650, had a son named Gollamh, who "solicited his father's permission to assist their Phoenician ancestor, then greatly distressed by continental wars," and having gained his consent, with a well-appointed fleet of thirty ships and a select number of intrepid warriors, he weighed anchor from the harbour of Corunna for Syria. It appears that war was not the sole business of this equipment; for in this fleet were embarked twelve youths of uncommon learning and abilities, who were directed to make remarks on whatever they found new, either in astronomy, navigation, arts, sciences, or manufactures. They were to communicate their remarks and discoveries to each other, and keep an exact account of what. ever was worthy of notice. It is quite clear that those "twelve noble youths" were reporters, and it is curious enough that when a few of the Dublin or London reporters attend in the country, at meetings or on other business, they with a few surly exceptions-do what those "noble youths" were commanded to do, namely, "communicate their remarks" and information to each other. Reporting, therefore, according to the above, must be over three thousand two hundred years old as a profession. What will our friends in the "gallery of the house" say to this? HOW I MARRIED A COUNTESS. CHAPTER I.-ON THE BATTLE-FIELD. THE weary lassitude of my illness had all passed away, and sitting after breakfast in my quarters, looking out on the harbour of Balaklava, I came at last to the resolution of insisting on joining my regiment, the -th Hussars. I say insisting, for Charley Somerville, my old college chum, and present physician, had put back my return to the camp for two whole weeks; and as to his skill and kindly attention I owed my recovery from the typhoid fever, known amongst us non-literals as the camp fever, I could not object, although I did grumble considerably, at the stolid, stupid life of inaction I was leading in my pleasant convalescent quarters. There was work in the front. There were skirmishes on one wing or other of our posts. There were foraging adventures, in which one of our fellows or another had, so to say, won his spurs-which means, in modern chivalry, gained a step in promotion-and I had been all those four months of excitement without a share in the chances-the glorious chances and reckless enthusiasm of war. I could stand this kind of thing no longer, and flung away my cigar-for smoking incessantly was my only relief-and rose from my chair to call my servant and bid him get my traps ready for a flight campward, when a hurried step caught my ear, as the well-known foot-fall of Doctor Somerville echoed up the windings of the stony stair leading to my room. In a moment my worthy physician burst into the apartment," I congratulate you, Walton," he said, "you are Captain now, my boy; and Lord Raglan has appointed you aide on his staff, and you rejoin when you are ready for duty." "Then I rejoin this day, Somerville," said I, "I have been long enough in this dreary spot. You I will never forgive for having stopped my opportunities-why, I might have been a colonel now." "Why, then," replied Somerville, "you dont go to-day either, if I can help it. There is apt to be sharp work to-day for the light brigade, and a man just risen from a sick bed is not the kind of officer to do efficient duty. I met De Vere, who was just come down from the camp, and he told me the light cavalry troops were all under orders to go forward to the front— the tantarara of bugles, the gallopping of aides, and the utter confusion of men, horses, officers, and sutlers, being, he told me, quite boisterous at the news." I made no reply to my scientific friend, but called with stentorian power for my groom, and giving my directions to him as rapidly as I could utter them, I proceeded to fling off my mufti, and don the long-unworn uniform. "Come, doctor," I said to Somerville, "fill me out a glass of wine, and take two yourself; I'll be at the thatched house' before you miss me. I thank my stars I release myself from your bondage, and am a soldier, and not a patient, once again." "Oh! if it so pleases you, my dear fellow, go!" he retorted; "but you will be a day sooner and a day surer a patient again." |