494 SIR GEORGE STEPHEN'S ANTI-SLAVERY RECOLLECTIONS. Even Buxton was annoyed and at times coolly 66 Ir appears that when Mrs. Stowe was in England she requested Sir George Stephen to furdish her with a "narrative of the abolition The letters to Mrs. Stowe are written in a of slavery in the British colonies," with a view frank, bold, almost reckless style; so reckless, to publication in America; and Sir George indeed, that it may be doubted whether the promised, anticipating not "more than a few book can answer its ostensible purpose of ashour's work." What Mrs. Stowe wished for, sisting the Emancipation cause in America or what Sir George originally intended, we do The earlier and more gentlemanly part of not know. This book is a series of personal the time was distinguished by what the writer recollections, by a keen and not a very tender calls "backstairs' management, not to say observer of the characters and conduct of some intrigue, and other arts, which, however neof the leading Abolitionists and their doings, cessary in this world of mixed motives and from the time when the writer was admitted frail mortals, do not look quite respectable in as an innocent child to private discussions on naked narrative. When the ready and "wilpolitics, that seem to have been peculiarly dis-ling to make themselves useful" gentry put tinguished by the wisdom of the serpent, up to aside the old Abolitionists, they carried on the period when Abolition was finally wrung| business by unscrupulous tricks, audacious from the fears and ignorance of the Reform falsehoods, and a theatrical manner of adverMinistry. The greater part of the reminis- tisement and display, that might have rendered cences, however, refer to the last decade of the an equestrian" manager, according to his agitation; and it appears that one object of moral nature, envious or ashamed. Neither the writer is to rescue from neglect if not ob- did they scruple to play upon the grossest livion the men who, as he says, really carried ignorance, and to glory in it. This story does the question. These were not the people not rise beyond platform humor or wit, but it whom the world has ignorantly supposed: not is significant against the tellers. Clarkson, who broached the subject, and Wilberforce, whose connection and position enOne curious instance of the working of this abled it at first to gain a favorable hearing; system occurred in Lincolnshire; it used to be not Romilly, whose character threw a halo quoted with great delight by Buxton, and is over it, nor Brougham, whose eloquence ex- tive working of these visiting sub-committees. I worth mentioning as an illustration of the effeccited the nation, nor poets, from Cowper to think it was Sir William Ingleby who was canJames Montgomery, whose strains penetrating vassing a newly-created voter in the Fens. "Be the heart and dwelling in the memory became you a candidate for Lords or Commons?" asked a very part of the rising generation; nor Bux- the unsophisticated elector. "For the Commons ton, with his slow labor and dogged pertina- to be sure, my friend; there are no elections for city. These, and some others, it is admitted, the Lords!" "Well, Sir William, I know nothe poets being excepted, did a good deal in thing about that; but which votes against slavthe way of preparation; but they were too fine ery? Lords or Commons, he shall have my vote, and finicking for actual work. They were and not the king if he don't." Members and Whigs loath to press Ministers; perhaps they had some compunctious visiting as to plunging men of their own rank into sudden ruin; possibly they had some scruples as to the justice of depriving any class of men of their substance acquired with the national sanction (for compensation was scouted by the "whole hog" Abolitionists); a few might hesiWhatever may be thought of the purpose tate as to the permanent benefit upon the Ne- of this book, it will be found very amusing, and groes themselves, and doubt whether an act indeed instructive. The reader is carried beof Parliament could change the nature of men hind the scenes both of Parliamentary manageand of society. Young and philanthropic England threw all such things overboard, as well as their old leaders. Zachary Macaulay quietly left them, in disapproval if not disgust. We do not know what the "down South" may think of this, or the Abolitionists of the North; but we believe that neither Sir George Stephen nor any Abolitionist of this country would willingly have trusted the very slightest practical matter in which they were interested to the judgment of this elector of the Fens. about the time of the Reform Bill. He will traditional names, and many portraits of men | their respective legal advisers, but on condition more or less distinguished in philanthropic agi- that we should pledge our word of honor not to tation, done by an artist of no mean power, publish a syllable of the evidence before the Combut whose eye is keener in perceiving and his hand firmer in limning blemishes than beauties. Here is part of Wilberforce : He had his defects, and though others have veiled them, I shall not. A man's excellence, especially when a public man, cannot be appreciated apart from his failings, as the primary colors lose their brilliancy when deprived of contrast with their complementary tints. mittee made their report. Sturge, who had gone with Mr. J. J. Gurney and Mr. Scobell to the West Indies on purpose to obtain evidence on the subject, (a noble effort of benevolence,) vas a most important witness, and was examined at great length. The next day, or within a day or two, there appeared in the daily papers a full report of his evidence. At the next meeting of the Committee, the Chairman of course complained of this disclosure, and appealed to every Member to say on his honor whether he had sent the reHis essential fault was that of busy indolence: port. All denied it; and then they asked Burge he worked out nothing for himself; he was des- and myself: we gave the same denial; and titute of system, and desultory in his habits; he Burge, happily, had in his pocket, still sealed depended on others for information, and laid with the official seal, his packet of the proceedhimself open to misguidance; he was too fond ings of the former day. I had not mine in my of an animated dictionary; he required an intel- pocket, though I had it at home with the seal still lectual walkingstick. From this habit sprung unbroken. I pledged myself to produce it; but I another failing of no trifling importance in a could see that suspicion hovered about me: it public man-he was indecisive; he wanted the placed me in the most awkward position, which confidence which he might have justly placed in Buxton could scarcely relieve by his assurances his own judgment. It was a common saying of of my trustworthiness. At their next meeting, him, so common that you must have heard it, however, I produced all my official packets with that you might safely predicate his vote, for it every seal unbroken; and confidence was at was certain to be opposed to his speech. The once restored, though the problem still remained only other weak point to which I will refer was of "who was the traitor?" I determined to sift singular in a man of his refinement-he loved it to the bottom; and at last discovered that the small gossip of political life, and, politically Sturge, who gave in his statement in writing, had educated in the tone of the last century, felt, per- made a copy of it before he was examined, and haps, unconsciously, too much deferential regard had sent this copy to the press, considering himfor rank and power, irrespective, not of the moral-self in no way bound to obey the injunctions of ity, but of the sterling worth of their possessors. the Committee to secrecy nor could I ever In a man of less strength of principle than Wilberforce, these faults, though venial, would have impeded all his utility, even if they had not reduced him to the level of the common herd; but he possessed qualities that neutralized their tendency. make him clearly understand the cruelty of subjecting myself and others to such unworthy suspicions. Šuch eccentric principles, however wellmeaning, were not likely to obtain for him any influential position among the old Abolitionists." Eldon. The author's able, excellent, and influential There is much more of it, but the panegyric father, is introduced on several occasions, with is elaborated into almost flatness compared truthful fearlessness and good taste. This with the opening traits. There is a portrait anecdote, though in connection with Mr. of Buxton even more elaborated and less ef- Stephen, is chiefly characteristic of Lord fective. In fact, Wilberforce had touched off his dear friend in a short sentence, and with a touch of the French malice, which seems to have been operative occasionally among the professors of philanthropy, that left little more to be done. Buxton is like one of his own drayhorses, strong, sleek, and slow." The conspicuous proceedings of Mr. Sturge of late are well enough accounted for in this character of him, however much his friends may be surprised at finding it where it is. Mr. Perceval felt that compensation was due to Mr. Stephen for the services he had rendered as well as for the professional sacrifice he had made. A Mastership in Chancery was vacant, and he requested Lord Eldon to give him the appointment, to discharge a debt of gratiude for which the whole Cabinet were in some sense responsible. It was refused; and Mr. Perceval, somewhat nettled at the refusal, offered to Mr. Stephen the post of Attorney-General. Mr. Stephen declined this offer, as his professional practice in this country had been too much confined to a particular field, to allow him, with satisfaction to In fact, Joseph Sturge was so headstrong in his peculiar notions of right and wrong, that for a time he involved many of the party, and my-himself, to undertake the duties of such an office; self especially, in a painful dilemma. When a Secret Committee of the House met to take evidence on the working of the apprenticeship system, it was arranged between Buxton on the one side and Gladstone on the other, that Mr. Burge and myself should be admitted as and then, not only Mr. Perceval, but some of his colleagues, renewed their application to the Chancellor, in a tone that admitted of no refusal. The Mastership was conceded, after more than a year's hesitation, and Mr. Stephen was appointed. But the appointment led to more cancellarian 496 SIR GEORGE STEPHEN'S ANTI-SLAVERY RECOLLECTIONS. disgust. On entering his new office, Mr. Stephen to have them posted, the same evening, over discovered a host of abuses, all tending to the injury of suitors, but of a nature that could not be removed except by the fiat of the Chancellor. Mr. Stephen called his attention to them in vain, till at last he menaced an exposure of them in the House. Then, and not till then, Lord Eldon reluctantly yielded, and so authorized the first step in Chancery Reform. It was but a small step, but to effect even that, when Lord Eldon held the Great Seal, was almost a miracle." every West Indian placard that was visible: this, as I anticipated, led to retaliation; and I kept a regular supply in hand, and a little army of billstickers, who entered heartily into the fun of the thing, and contrived to follow the West Indian bill-stickers unperceived, and veil over all their bills before morning. I had only two allies; Mr. Crisp, and a most stanch Anti-Slavery man, then Mr. Bagster's reader, but long since estab lished as a publisher himself, Mr. Pardon. The language of the placards excited Lord Grey's If the following piece of modest assurance displeasure, and somebody came to the printer's, had been told of a mountebank and his merry-alleging that his Lordship sent him to demand andrew, or been introduced into a farce with the author's name. They might as well have some Jeremy Diddler for the hero, it would inquired for Junius; they would have got nohave been well enough. Had it occurred with O'Connell in a rollicking and gleeful mood, it might have done to laugh at. In a body somewhat ostentatiously arrogating to themselves all claims to "truth and justice, religion and piety," it goes considerably beyond a joke, or even a pious fraud. It may be said that the party did not originate the placards, which ap- "And now, my friends," he began, "about peared in the "brickbat-and-bludgeon days these placards. I cannot qualify my language in of the Times newspaper; but they were aid- speaking of them: we are not reduced to such ing and abetting. disgraceful weapons as these; our weapons are There has been somereason, principle, duty; I will not stoop to arm thing not very unlike the practice at Man-myself from the armory of the incendiary," etc., chester and Birmingham lately: who is the and a great deal more to the same purpose. After an hour or so my turn came; and, to Buxton's amazement, for he fully expected me to traitor now? thing from a single man in the office, had they put them all to the torture. So the fun went on; and I presume Lord Grey remonstrated with Buxton, for he was very sore about them, and told me he should repudiate them at an AntiSlavery meeting at Devonshire House, where I, too, was asked to attend. But I was determined to be even with him. On this occasion, Buxton in his speech advert-vindicate them, I took my cue from him, and ed to certain placards that had been posted about adopted the same vein, only in much more inthe Metropolis; earnestly disclaiming all con- flated style. nection with them on the part of the Anti-slavery "I go much farther than my honorable friend; Society. He was well warranted in this disclaim- I denounce not only the placards, but the author er; for I was not then, and am not now, asham- too. I wish I could discover him. I would ed of acknowledging that I wrote them all.-hold him up to your abhorrence; but he dare not They were villanous productions, and almost as intrude here; he dare not exhibit his incendiary incendiary and seditious as the leading articles features in such a peaceful right-principled asin the Times, on Reform, which appeared about sembly as this! he dare not face the withering the same time; but I see no reason why treason indignation of my honorable friend,”—and here should be published on one subject and not on I turned towards Buxton, and looked him full another, when both were equally good. Indeed, in the face. It was too much even for Buxton's of the two, I cared more for Emancipation than gravity; he burst into fits of laughter; and the Reform, and think it deseryed the preference.-meeting, consisting chiefly of young Friends, The history of the placards was simply this-had been laughing heartily at every pause, and The West Indian body began the strife by defac-adding loud applause to their laughter; in defiing the walls of London with pro-slavery mat-ance of repeated mementoes from Mr. S. Gurter; and I own, with shame, that this aid in agi- ney, the chairman, that such expressions of tation had quite escaped me: I at once saw the sympathy were forbidden by their rules; for advantage of it, as groups were collected round there was not one in the room who did not them, spelling them out, though they were a know, as well as myself, that I was the offender. class that probably never opened a book once in "You have fairly done me," said Buxton, afa year. I started off to Bagster, the printer's, ter the meeting. wrote two or three in the shop, and directed him BOASTING. Boasts will not pillow thee where great men sit: A NAVAL QUESTION.-If a boatswain marrics, does his wife become a boatswain's mate? FIRMNESS. Strive to be resolute; half-measures shun; From the Literary Gazette. but not debased, soon distinguished his name from impress of ancient Rome, emanating from the amongst the crowd. It bore the manly republican soul of an English enthusiast. the first of his nation to espouse the side of God and the people; but neither the people nor the puritans had any ears to spare for poetry. Milton THE new English edition of M. Lamartine's threw himself into the quarrel, armed with "Memoirs of Celebrated Characters" has some speeches,controversies, and pamphlets, those daily additions, the most noticeable of which is a weapons of revolution. His genius, transformed sketch of Milton. In this, as in his other memoirs of illustrious Englishmen, we do not look for any novelty of biographical detail, but it is interesting to have the opinions and sentiments of a man of genius and eloquence like Lamartine. We give some extracts from his memoir of the great epic poet, commencing with a characteristic paragraph, in which the author's bias towards romance rather than history is displayed :— Cromwell, who at that time personified in himself the citizens, the people, the army, the fervor of religious zeal, the national pride and privileges, became the Maccabæus of Milton's imagination. The poet attached himself to the fortunes of the Protector, as to his own and his country's destiny; he saw in him the champion of the people, the uprooter of monarchs, and a new "Milton, born of noble parents, living on their judge of Israel: we find these exact expressions estate in the neighborhood of London, after in his political writings of the period-Cromwell having formed his literary taste at the University was the sword, while Milton wished to be the of Cambridge, and having given evidence of his tongue of independence. Cromwell, who spoke superior powers in various Latin poems, much much, but always badly, and had neither time admired by the erudite, was sent to Italy by his nor leisure to write, hailed with eagerness the father, to become acquainted with the world and vigorous, eloquent, and imaginative talent which the existing state of learning on the Continent, sought to place itself at his service. It was not before the age when it was intended he should enough for the experienced leader, the conquerdevote himself to business and politics. He con- ing soldier, to triumph on the battle-fields of tinued to reside there for a series of years, Scotland and Ireland; he wished equally to desattracted by the charms of the climate, the graces potize over public opinion. The royalists, the of the women, the poetical associations of the Roman Catholics, the partisans of the Reformed places and people, the friendships he contracted Church, waged against him an incessant war of with many distinguished patrons of genius, and by pamphlets, which disturbed his rest and threatenthe softness of the air of Naples, which infiltrateded to undermine his power. Milton was emitself through his veins, and made him lose sight of everything, even his glory and his native country. He confesses this himself, in vcrses written in the language of Tasso. I have forgotten the Thames for the voluptuous Arno. Love has so willed it, who never wills in vain! From this we may collect that either Florence or Pisa contained a second Leonora for this new Torquato. Love alone solves many secrets which appear otherwise inexplicable in the lives of men, and particularly of poets. And how did this passion eventuate? Herein lies the mystery of that period of the life of Milton. "On his return to England he found the parliament at war with the king, hostile arms in every hand, and every soul bursting with the flames of religious and political controversy. During three years he pondered in solitude, without seeming to incline either towards the royalists or the puritans, entirely absorbed in the studies preparatory to his future poem, the plan of which he had conceived while yet on his travels. In a letter to a confidential friend, written about this period, he thus expresses himself: Some day I shall address a work to posterity which will perpetuate my name, at least in the land in which I was boru.' All great minds thus anticipate their future glory; this feeling, which the vulgar mistake for pride, is in fact the inwardly-speaking conscience of their genius. When these three years had passed over his head, Milton postponed his poem until times more favorable to literature, in case they should ever arrive, and declared for the cause of liberty. Poets had long followed in the train of courts and monarchs; he was tempted by the glory of being VOL. VIII. 32 DLXI. LIVING AGE. ployed to reply to their arguments or invectives. He placed him near his own person, in the posi tion of private secretary, and confided to him the revision and publication of the acts of government,-That government concentrated itself in the single head of the Protector. This confidential member of Cromwell's cabinet was in reality the minister of the protectorate; his name became synonymous with power, and his fortune increased with the importance of his functions. His brothers left the country, and came to reside with him in a handsome mansion-house in Lon don. We do not follow M. Lamartine in his account of the politics of the time of the Commonwealth, but we pass on to the notice of Milton after the Restoration, about which period of the aged poet's life it is to be wished that fuller and more authentic records were extant : The restoration of Charles the Second surprised him in the midst of his labors, rendered nugatory by the treason of the army, which first conquered, and then sold their country. Charles was not by nature vindictive; he was only thoughtless. He extended amnesty to all, even to the regicides; but his return called back the royalists to parliament, and they, like all partisans, were implacable. They outraged the natural gentleness of the young king, and demanded from him heads and proscriptions. Milton, who had steeped, if not his hands, at least his pen in the blood of the late monarch, and the massacres of Ireland, more atrocious than those of Septem- |tises, and amongst others a History of England, ber 1792, hastened to hide himself in the hope to earn bread for his family and a dowry for his of being forgotten. He resigned his office, and daughters; but his name injured the popularity retired into an obscure suburb of London, to of his works, and his poem encroached on his allow time for the vengeance of his enemies to history. The royalists were indignant that a pass away. After a short interval, to efface his regicide should be permitted to write and live, name effectually from the remembrance of the and pamphleteers of the court inveighed against royalists, he gave out that he was dead; and him without fear of a reply. They charge me," while still in existence, superintended the cere- thus he wrote to one of his friends, a foreigner, mony of his own funeral. To this subterfuge he in a letter recovered long after, "they charge me was indebted for his life. He was not discover- with poverty, because I have never desired to ed until the first fury of reaction had become become rich dishonestly; they accuse me of satiated, and in some measure exhausted by in-blindness, because I have lost my eyes in the dulgence. From his own windows he had be- service of liberty; they tax me with cowardice, held the body of Cromwill, dug up by the com- and while I had the use of my eyes and my mon executioner, paraded through the streets of sword I never feared the boldest amongst them; London, and exposed to the insults of the popu- finally, I am upbraided with deformity, while no lace. one was more handsome in the age of beauty. I do not even complain of my want of sight; in the night with which I am surrounded, the light of the Divine presence shines with a more brilliant lustre. God looks down upon me with more tenderness and compassion, because I can now see none but himself. Misfortune should protect me from insult and render me sacred, not because I am deprived of the light of heaven, but because I am under the shadow of the Divine wings which have enveloped me with this darkness. To that alone I attribute the assiduous kindness of my friends, their consoling attentions, their frequent, cordial visits, and their respectful complaisance!" "My devotion to my country (he again writes in another letter to the same friend)" has scarcely rewarded me, and yet that sweet name of country charms me still. Adieu! I pray you to excuse the inaccurate Latin of this letter. The child to whom I am compelled to dictate it is ignorant of that language, and I spell every syllable over to him, that you may be enabled to read my inmost soul." Charles the Second heard of the retreat of Milton, and pretended to believe in the reality of his death. He had no desire to stain the commencement of his reign with the execution of one of those men destined to immortality, whose blood would cry loudly for vengeance through future ages. He even offered to reinstate him in his office of government advocate, if he would devote his talents to the cause of monarchy. His second wife entreated him to comply with this proposal. "You are a woman," replied Milton, "and your thoughts dwell on the domestic interests of our house; I think only of posterity, and I will die consistently with my character. By this time his affairs had declined into poverty, approaching to indigence. His eyes, ever weak, had almost entirely lost their light. When he ventured out, he was supported by the arm of one of his daughters. Charles the Second, one day when taking a ride, met him in St. James's Park, and inquired who was that handsome, blind old man. He was told that it was Milton. He approached, and addressing the ancient secretary of Cromwell in a tone of bitter irony, said, "Heaven, Sir, has inflicted this chastisement on you, for having participated in the murder of my father!" "Sire," replied the aged sufferer, with manly boldness, "if the calamities which befal us here are the punishment of our faults, or of the sins of our parents, your own father must have been very culpable, for you yourself have endured much misfortune." The king passed on All who read are well acquainted with this silently, and expressed no offence at the answer. poem. It is the narrative of the Bible mixed up Milton was now approaching his sixtieth year; with fables, adventures, and long dialogues. Exbut he still retained the freshness of mind and cept the apostrophe we have quoted, (the Aposbeauty of countenance which belong to youth. trophe to Light,) some descriptions of Eden, and Genius consumes the weak, and preserves the the loves of Adam and Eve in Paradise, the strong. His involuntary idleness had driven him book owes its immortality to its style. A weariback to poetry, formerly the pastime, but now some theology, partly Scriptural and partly imthe consolation of his life. The idea of the great aginary, weighs down the flight of the poet, and epic which he had conceived in Italy, and post-fatigues the reader. The Supreme Being and poned to the age of leisure, occupied his imagin- His Son spake like men, and unlike divinities. ation more intensely than ever. He resumed his studies in Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Italian, with the enthusiasm of a youth. The realms of fancy carried him away delightfully from the actual world. His second wife being dead, he married a third, still young and handsome, who became the soul of his house and the mother of his children. She loved him too, despite his poverty and blindness. He wrote several trea Lost" we give a few sentences. It is only of From the general remarks on "Paradise the details of the poem that Lamartine is capable of forming an opinion. The subject and plan of the work are above his reach.Chateaubriand understood Milton better: They have friends and enemies amongst their own creatures; factions are stirred up in heaven and hell to dethrone the Uncreated. Angels and demons combat in the realms of space, with mechanical arms, and kill each other without dying, to dispute the possession of an insect called man, upon a grain of dust, indistinguishable in the immensity of chaos, and denominated the globe of the earth. Debates are held in the |