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than which nothing is more fatal to a writer's serious | One thing only he recognized as being malum in se, as a purposes and immediate fame. Mr. Bentham has thing being to be opposed at any rate, and at any price, already been ridiculed with a severity and success
even on any such extraordinary supposition as that of its
being brought forward by the party with which, at the time which nothing but the most sterling merit could live being, it was his lot to side. This was, parliamentary rethrough. Again, his thoughts lose all their raciness Iform. and vigour, from the necessity of being filtered through
" In the course of his forty years labour in the service of the alembic of another pen. A mind equally powerful
the people, one thing he did that was good : one think to
wit, that in the account of his panegyrists is set down on that with his own would still be unable to do his ideas jus side:tice. Mr. Dumont, who has generally been his editor, One use of sovernment (in eyes such as his the principal (rédacteur is a better word) and though himself an ll nee) is to enable men who have shares in it to employ pubable man, yet it appears from the preface to the present
lic money in payment for private service:
e preface to the present “ Parliament a sort of gaming-house; members on the voluine, that his publication of Mr. Bentham's papers | two sides of each house the players: the property of the have been supposed rather injurious to their spirit and | people, such portion of it as on any pretence may be found originality. Whose fault is that? we would ask. Il capable of being extracted from them, the stakes played for.
Insincerity in all its shapes, disingenuousness, lying hypoWho the present editor is, we know not, but he seems
crivy, fallacy, the instruments employed by the players on to have exercised a good deal of authority over his both sides for obtaining advantages in the game: on each friend's MSS. and in several places to have arranged occasion,-in respect of the side on which he ranks himself, and classified them according to his own will.
--what course will be most for the advantage of the univer
sal interest.-a question never looked at, never taken into The substance of this volume was published in
account: on which side is the prospect of personal advanFrench by Mr. Dumont, with many omissions and | tage in its several shapes,--this the only question really retrenchments. It is now given to the world in a more taken into consideration : according to the answer given complete shape, and made more applicable to British
I to this question in his own mind, a man takes the one or
the other of the two sides: the side or those in office, if institutions and British interests. It is a treatise on
there be room or near prospect of room for him, the side political fallacies, as employed to facilitate the adop of those by whom office is but in expectancy, is the future tion of bad measures, or to occasion the rejection of contingent presents a more encouraging prospect than the good ones, in the legislative and administrative depart.
“Of the sell-written Memoirs of Bubb Dodington how ments of our government. A fallacy is meant to de
much was said in their day! of Gerard Hamilton's Parsignate “any argument employed, or topic.suggested, liamentary Logic, how little! The reason is not unobfor the purpose or with the probability of producing the vious: Dodington was all anecdote; Hamilton was all effect of deception.” Aristotle he considers as the
theory. What Hamilton endeavoured to teach with Ma
lone and Johnson for his bag-hearers, Dodington was seen earliest author who has treated of them, and under the
to practice. same head he ranges all writers on rhetoric. Towards " Nor is the veil of decorum cast off any where from his these he has a rooted antipathy, and Single-Speech practice. In Hamilton's book for the first time has profliHamilton, the author of “ Parliamentary Logic," he
vacy been seen stark naked. In the reign of Charles the
| Second, Sir Charles Sedley and others were indicted for exspecially vilifies :
posing themselves in a balcony in a state of perfect nudity.
In Gerard Hamilton may be seen the Sir Charles Sedley “ His book is a sort of school, in which the means of ad
of political morality. Sedley might have stood in his bala vocating what is a good cause, and the means of advocating
cony till he was frozen, and nobody the better, nobody what is a bad cause, are brought to view with equal frank
much the worse: but Hamilton's self-exposure is most ness, and inculcated with equal solicitude for succese; in a
instructive. word, that which Machiavel has been suposed sometimes to
“ Above all other species of business, the one which aim at, Gerard Hamilton as often as it occurs to bin does not
Gerard Hamilton was most apprehensive of his pupils not only aim at, but aim at without disguise. Whether on this
being sufficiently constant in the practice of, is misrepreobservation any such imputation as that of calumny is justly
sentation. Under the name of action, thrice was gesticuchargeable, the samples given in the course of this work
lation spoken of as the first accomplishment of his proleswill put the reader in a condition to judge.
sion by the Athenian orator; “ Sketched out by himself and finished by his editor and
“ By Gerard Hamilton, in a collection of aphorisms, 553 panegyrist, the political character of Gerard Hamilton
in number, in about 40 vice is recommended without dismay be comprised in a few words; he was determined
guise; twelve times is misrepresentation, i. e. premedito join with a party: he was as ready to side with
tated falsehood with or without a mash, recommended in one party as another; and whatever party he sided with,
the several forms of which it presented itself to him as susas ready to say any one thing as any other in support of it.
ceptible: viz. in the way of false addition three times, in Independently of party, and personal profit to be made
the way of false substitution twice, and in the way of omisfrom party, right and wrong, good and evil, were in his
sion seven times.' eyes matters of indifference. But having consecrated himself to party, viz. the party, whatever it was, from Mr. Bentham divides fallacies into four classes :which the most was to be got-that party being, of whatever materials composed, the party of the ins, -that party
of authority, where authority is, and to repress discus. standing constantly pledged for the protection of abuse in sion altogether : of danger, where it is to repress the every shape, and in so far as good consists in the extirpation proposed discussion, on the ground of danger: of deof abuse, for the opposing and keeping out every thing that
lay, when the object is to postpone the discussion, is good,-hence it was to the opposing of whatsoever is good in honest eyes, that his powers, such as they were, were
with the view to elude it: of confusion, where it is to bent and pushed with peculiar energy.
perplex and confuse the hearers' minds, so as to inca. pacitate them for deliberation. These are each examined | gation, have never yet found any authoritative expression in their order, with the most searching exactness. It is
in words. This is the perfection of oppression : yet pro
pose that access to knowledge of the laws be afforded by impossible for us to give an analysis, or even a speci.
in a special means of a code, lawyers, one and all, will join in declaring men of his general manner. Mr. Bentham's classifi it impossible. To any effect, as occasion occurs, a judge cations are as peculiar as his style. He divides and will forge a rule of law : to that same effect in any detersubdivides with an infinitisimal diligence. Hence, his
minate form of words, propose to make a law, that same
judge will declare it impossible.” book acquires another difficulty to the reader, and another merit to the indefatigable student. He takes a
There is a bitterness about the opinions of Mr. Ben. fallacy-classes it-gives it a name-defines and de. scribes it-shews when, how, and why it is, and tells
He has little of the benignity of a philosopher, and yet its effects;—then exposes its deceptiveness, and points
his admirers proclaim him as the prince of living phiout its refutation and its remedy. All this is very spi.
losophers. This is a misnomer. He is about the last ritedly and ingeniously done. The illustrations are
man living we should choose for a guide in estimating numerous, and generally selected from the English par
the character of public men, if we were to be bound by liamentary debates. Mr. Bentham seems to glow with
his estimate. We admire his shrewdness, originality, a holy hatred of every thing like English politics and
depth and analytical power, but neither the harshness politicians. He accuses them of all sorts of cant
of his feelings, nor the exclusiveness of his likings. common-place nonsense, and falsehood. He covers
Occasionally the philosopher adopts a lighter and them with sarcasm, derision, and argumentative hosti
merrier mcod, as in speaking of the sinister interests in lity. His leading principle is, that every politician is
which the fallacious cry of No innovation has its a knave, every lawyer a bigot, and every churchman a
source. hypocrite. His creed, political and religious, is of the 6 Could the wand of that magician be borrowed at whose most exclusive sort. Here is a specimen of his opinion potent touch the emissaries of his wicked antagonist threw of lawyers :
off their several disguises, and made instant confession of
their real character and designs;-could a few of those "1. Lawyers; oppositeness of their interest to the uni
ravens by whom the word innovation is uttered with a versal interest.
scream of horror, and the approach of the monster Anarchy The opinions of lawyers in a question of legislation, par
denounced,-be touched with it, we should then learn their ticularly of such lawyers as are or have been practising
real character, and have the true import of these screams advocates, are peculiarly liable to be tinged with falsity by
translated into intelligible language. the operation of sinister interest. To the interest of the
1. I am a lawyer, (would one of them be heard to say) a community at large, that of every advocate is in a state of fee-led judge, who, considering that the money I lay up, such direct and constant opposition (especially in civil mat
the power I exercise, and the respect and reputation I enters), that the above assertion requires an apology to re
joy, depend on the undiminished continuance of the abuses deem it from the appearance of trifling: the apology con
of the law, the factitious delay, vexation and expense with sists in the extensively prevailing propensity to overleok |
| which the few who have money enough to pay for a chance and turn aside from a fact so entitled to notice. It is the of justice are loaded, and by which the many who have people'y interest that delay, vexation and expence of pro- || not, are cut off from that chance,--take this method of decedure should be as small as possible :-it is the advocate's terring men from attempting to alleviate those torments that they should be as great as possible: viz, expense in so in which my comforts have their source. far as his profit is proportioned to it; factitious vexation
“ I am a sinecurist (cries another) who, being in the reand delay, in so far as inseparable from the profit-yielding | ceipt of 238,000 a year, public money, for doing nothing, part of the expence. As to uncertainty in the law, it is the
and having no more wit than honesty, have never been able people's interest that each man's security against wrong
to open my mouth and pronounce any articulate sound for should be as complete as possible; that all his rights should any other purpose-yet, hearing a cry of “ No sinecures!" be known to him; that all acts, which in the case of his am come to join in the shout of “ No innovation ! down doing them will be treated as offences, may be known to with the innovators!” in hopes of drowning, by these dehim as such, together with their eventual punishment, that
fensive sounds, the offensive ones which chill my blood and he may avoid committing them, and that others may, in as make me tremble. few instancey as possible, sufler either from the wrong or
"3. I am a contractor (cries a third) who, having from the expensive and vexatious remedy. Hence it is
bought my seat that I may sell my votes; and in return their interest, that as to all these matters the rule of action
for them, being in the habit of obtaining with the most in so far as it applies to each man, should at all times be
convenient regularity a succession of good jobs, foresee, in not only discoverable, but actually present to his mind.
the prevalence of innovation, the destruction and the ruin Such knowledge, which it is every man's interest to pos
of this established branch of trade. sess to the greatest, it is the lawyer's interest that he pos
" 4. I am a country gentleman (cries a fourth) who, obsess it to the narrowest extent possible. It is every man's
serving that from having a seat in a certain assembly a interest to keep out of lawyers' hands as much as possible;
man enjoys more respect than he did before, on the turf, in it is the lawyer's interest to get him in as often, and keep
the dog-kennel, and in the stable, and having tenants and him in as long as possible: thence that any written expres
other dependents enough to seat me against their wills for sion of the words necessary to keep non-lawyers out of his
| a place in which I am detested, and hearing it said that if hand may as long as possible be prevented from coming into
innovation were suffered to run on unopposed, elections existence, and when in existence as long as possible kept
would come in time to be as free in reality as they are in from being present to his mind, and when presented from
appearance and pretence,-have left for a day or two the staving there. It is the lawyer's interest. therefore, that I cry of Tally-ho!' and ' Hark forward ! to join in the cry people should continually suffer for the non-observance of || of “ No Anarchy!' 'No innovation ! saws, which, so far from having received efficient promul
" 5. I am a priest (says a fifth) wbo, having proved the Pope to be Antichrist to the satisfaction of all orthodox || cur, that in the American Congress the use made of these divines whose piety prays for the cure of souls, or whose fallacies is not likely to be so copious as in that August Ashealth has need of exoneration from the burthen of resi sembly, which, as the only denomination it can with prodence; and having read, in my edition of the Gospel, that || priety be called by, has been pleased to give itself that of the apostles lived in palaces, which innovation and anarchy the Imperial Parliament of Great Britain and Ireland." would cut down to parsonage-houses, though grown hoarse by screaming out, No reading!! No writing!' - No The value of this work will be very great, to all par. Lancaster !' and .No popery!'--for fear of coming change, || liamentary men. If it were to be studied by them am here to add what remains of my voice to the full chorus of • No anarchy! “No innovation!”
attentively for a few weeks, there would be an end to
all long speeches. It is a complete exposure of their It is impossible not to award Mr. Bentham the praise absurdities, assumptions, mistakes, and fallacies, of having given birth to a volume which, with all its faults, abounds in the most important political truths. The favourite speculations of the writer are pushed too || Adam and Eve; a Margate Story. London: J. and H. L. far, but a judicious reader will know where to draw the
Hunt. 1824. line, and to convert them into sources of great intel This is a poem of somewhere about a thousand lectual improvement. We will give a single extract || lines, written in what is commonly called “ the Beppo more, and we shall have done.
style.” We have often puzzled ourselves to discover
the possible motive which could induce people to scrib6 Two considerations will suffice to render it apparent that, under the British constitution, there cannot but ex
ble in this way, but in vain. For money or fame, it ist, on the one hand, such a demand for fallacies, and, on
certainly could not be. If very successful, the profit the other hand, such a supply of them, as for copiousness would not much exceed a five pound note, and the and variety, taken together, cannot be to be matched else fame would not, at the utmost, be worth half so much. where. “1. In the first place, a thing necessary to the existence
We must remain in the dark, therefore, until we write of the demand is discussion to a certain degree free.
“ a poein in the Beppo style" ourselves. “Where there are no such institutions as a popular assem It opens with a description of a trip to Margate in bly taking an efficient part in the Government, and pub
the steam boat, in which we meet with some spirited lishing or suffering to be published accounts of its debates, -nor yet any free discussion through the medium of the
lines : press,-there is, consequently, no demand for fallacies.
VUI. Fallacy is fraud, and fraud is useless when every thing may 66 'Tis something too to bound along the main, be done by force.
And feel that ye command the elements; " The only case which can enter into comparison with the To hear the winds call after you in vain, English Government, is that of the United Anglo-Ameri And laugh upon the wild wave's weak intents !can States.
O God! 'tis grand to see the billows strain “ There, on the side of the Outs, the demand for falla
Against the vessel's course!-no canvas-rents cies stands without any difference worth noticing, on all
Weaken her powers ;-no tack, no change is there;footing similar to that on which it stands under the English | Despised the roar of winds, or foul or fair; Constitution.
VUI. "But the side of the Outs is that side on which the demand for fallacies is by much the least urgent and
But on she journcys in her billowy course, abundant.
Pawing the wave beneath her, in her might, “ On the side of the Ins, the demand for fallacies de And dashing onward, as the roused war-horse pends upon the aggregate mass of abuse: its magnitude
Springs in his wrath and foams along the fight. and urgency depend upon the magnitude of that mass, and
How gallantly she spurns the breakers' force, its variety upon the variety of the shapes in which abuse
And tramples down the surges in her flight! has manifested itself.
Till o'er the sunset wave are seen to smile " On crossing the water, fortune gave to British Ame The lovely shores of Thanet's lovely isle.rica the relief that policy gave to the fox; of the vermin
IX. by which she had been tormented, a part were left behind. Then glides the spirit of the mazy dance
“No deaf auditors of the Exchequer: no blind surveyors Forth on the deck, and thousand busy feet of melting irons: no non-registering registrars of the Ad Are glancing there; while o'er the far expanse miralty Court, or of any other judicatory: no tellers, by Of evening waters, rolled in the cadence sweet, whom no money is told but that which is received into Swells the soft voice of music:-then advance their own pockets: no judge acting as clerk under himself: Along the Pier the thronging friends to greet no judge pocketing £7000 a-vear, for useless work, for
Each venturous hero, who could such a Tar get which men are forced to address his clerks. No judge,
As to come all this way by sea' to Margate !" who, in the character of judge over himself, sits in one place to protect, by storms of fallacy and fury, the extor
For the story, there is little or none. It relates to a tions and oppressions habitually committed in another: no | newly married couple who go to Margate, where they tithe-gatherers exacting immense retribution for minute or
lodge in a hotel, and fall asleep :never rendered service. 66 With respect to the whole class of fallacies built upon
XXX. Ithoritv, precedent, wisdom of ancestors, dread of inno-|| " To dream, no doubt: to dream a thousand things, tion, immutable laws, and many others, occasioned by | Visions of love, and heavenly ecstacies, ent ignorance and ancient abuses, what readers soever | Bright as the first, warm, wild imagininus,
may be, by whom what is to be found under those That flash upon the youthful lover's eyes! !l heads has been perused, to them it will readily oc || How the blood rashes, and the young heart springs, "
As with a bound, where all its feelings rise,
|| I like the cars, well sheltered from the aspersions Like the spring-tides of ocean in their sweep,
Of envious skies upon a rainy day, Rapid, and strong, and whelming !-Fast asleep,
And well remember their white curtains too,
And glancing eyes, like Houris', peeping through.
I like to dine at early hours, at home, A dream of doubts, and hopes, and fears, that move
Or in the fields, perchance, in some green spot; Along the troubled heart, and shed a gleam
I like, in the still evening, forth to roam Of lurid sadness, bidding us still prove
To sweet St. Peter's, or to Draper's cot, That joy is bitterness: and hope, a beam
And there take tea with the old fólks; then come That cheats us with its brightness, and all life,
Back to the libraries, though they are not
Quite to my mind, there's too much show, and dress.
And nonsense ; but I like them ne'ertheless.
I like the neighbourhood too,—the ancient places Thy spirit breathes, and the heart owns its power!
That bring back the past ages to the eye, Hushed is each pulse of life, as, in obeysance,
Filling the gap of centuries-the traces The winds will hold their breath, and nature cower
Of seventeen hundred years, at least that lie Before the coming earthquake!-The quick essence
Mouldering beneath your tread !--for such the case is Or stirring thoughts then rises, and the hour
With man and man's achievements--they must die!-Oi sense throngs thick with busy shapes, that flit
There's Richborough, Stonar, Monkton, Minster here Around the troubled soul, and darken it!
And the long track where ran Domnona's deer.”
The husband and wife, i. e. Adam and Eve, drive Looks in on the mind's wanderings, and then
out along the shore to indulge in a bathe, but unhapThe little sunshine of the heart will stray
pily they leave their garments in the gig, and the Unto the features,-but it fades again !Then comes the throb, the start, the quickening play
horse startled by some noise, absconds with all their Of passion o'er the cheek, and the wild strain
clothing. Their perplexity is amusingly described, Of agony, to fly from bonds, that fast
and the reader is glad to learn that they are extricated Confine us still ;-and then we wake at last!
without any great shock to propriety. It is probable XXXIV.
that some such incident really happened, and that the Such is our dream of love. We love till death,
poet is a wag who delights to convert the mishaps of And wake in dying ;-Should a kindlier fate E’en visit us, uncertain is the breath
his friends into a source of laughter. He has shewn a Of life we dote upon, and short the date
good deal of humour in working up the story, and as May be of our enjoyment ! Underneath
our quotations will shew, possesses considerable powers The turf is our sole hope !-When most elate The dear one is torn from us, and the tomb,
for serious poetry. Her early dower, shuts silent o'er her doom !"
They are awakened by a storm, and a shipwreck - || Tales of a Traveller. By GEOFFREY CRAYON, Gent. Lonaid in saving a pilot's life, and relieving his family
don: Murray. 2 vols. 8vo. meet with some London acquaintance, and stroll about
(Continued from p. 321.) the town. The poet here introduces in his own person ||
The opinion which we expressed last week concernsome verses, which are well enough in their way :-
ing the merits of Mr. Irving's “ Tales,' we have seen no LXXXIV.
reason to regret, after a second and more deliberate pe“ Besides, I like the customs of the town :
rusal. They are easy in style, and sometimes even ele. I like to rise at seven, and troll away In some sweet morning walk; perhaps go down
gant, but the matter is so light, and often so uninterestUnto the sands, and saunter through the bay
ing, as to fill us with apprehensions for the literary Watching the tides; or, on the high beach thrown,
reputation of this gentleman. This is particularly to be Look out upon the waters, as the day
regretted, inasmuch as Mr. Irving, in several parts of First glances o'er them from the land, and lightens The foam that o'er the distant billow whitens.
his book, indulges in much sneering and sarcasm LXXXV.
against critics and periodical writers. Now, as Mr. I like too, after breakfast, to look in
Irving himself has been nothing else for the whole of At Hughes's, read the papers: if agree
his life, having run through all the grades of magazineThe tide, and whim to bathe, take a machine,
writing, from occasional correspondent up to regular Or look from the balcony o'er the sea, Where yet Reculver's sister spires are seen ;
editor, it is most ungracious in him to turn round Or listen to some thrilling harmony
upon us “ slaves of the lamp," with a look of absolute Mozart's, or Handel's-with the tones and swells
scorn. If not unthankful, it is at least very impolitic, Of a grand piano, such as Broadwood sells.
and will have the effect of rousing a nest of hornets LXXXVI.
against him. A weekly critic individually may be no I like their little parties and excursions,
| fearful personage; but Mr. Irving should not forget Their trips to some sweet spot, by land or sea; I like their sailing boats and the diversions,
that Gulliver was bound down by the contemptible The laugh, the jest, the song-upon the way;
Lilliputians. Let our pseudonymous friend, therefore, take heed as to his paces, when he sets about his || into the house and get something to eat; it will be a long “ ratiling history of authors and reviewers." Above
while before we get to Fundy.'
6 D-n the house-it's a mere trick-I'll not eat any all, let him make himself better acquainted with his
thing, just to spite them,' said the Englishman, still more subject, before he enters upon the concoction of his crusty at the prospect of being so long without his dinner. history.
". They say your honour's very wrong,' said John, 'to The last two divisions of these “ Tales " relate to Il set off at this late hour. The road's full of highwaymen.'
•6• Mere tales to get custom.'. “ Italian Banditti” and “ Money-diggers." They || 666 The estafette which passed us was stopped by a whole are decidedly better than their fellows. There is, if | kang,' said John, increasing his emphasis with each adnot more originality, at least more novelty in them. | ditional piece of information. If the portraits of persons and things be not literally
so I don't believe a word of it.'
"" They robbed him of his breeches,' said John, giving, faithful, they belong to other people and countries, and at the same time, a hitch to his own waistband. we are un provided with the means of detecting their 66. All humbug!' inaccuracies. The tales of the banditii open with a " Here the dark handsome young man stepped forward, description of some Italian travellers stopped at Ter
stopped at Ter. Il and addressing the Englishman very politely, in broken
English, invited him to partake of a repast he was about to racina by the fear of robbers. Their number is gra
make. dually augmented by the arrival of an Englishman. " Thank’ee,' said the Englishman, thrusting his hands The description of this person is by no means badly decper into his pockets, and casting a slight side glance of done.
suspicion at the young man, as if he thought, from his civility,
he must have a design upon his purse. . “ Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! Another ap "• We shall be most happy, if you will do us that favour.' parition of the road attracted the attention of mine host and said the lady, in her soft Venetian dialect. There was a his guests. From the direction of the Pontine marshes a sweetness in her accents that was most persuasive. The carriage, drawn by half a dozen horses, came driving at all Englishman cast a look up
ner beauty furious rate; the postilions smacking their whips like mad, I was still more eloquent. His features instantly relaxed. as is the case when conscious of the greatness or of the mu- || He made a polite bow. With great pleasure, Signora, nificence of their fare. It was a landaulet, with a servant said he. mounted on the dickey. The compact, highly finished, yet “ In short, the eagerness to get on' was suddenly slackproudly simple construction of the carriage ; the quantity llened; the determination to famish himself as far as Fondi, of neat, well-arranged trunks and conveniencies; the loads | hy way of punishing the landlord, was abandoned ; John of box-coats on the dickey; the fresh, burly, bluff-looking chose an apartment in the inn for his master's reception, face of the master at the window; and the ruddy, round- ||
nd-ll and preparations were made to remain there until morn. headed servant, in close-cropped hair, short coat, drab ing. breeches, and long gaiters, all proclaimed at once that this 66 The carriage was unpacked of such of its contents as was the equipage of an Englishinan.
were indispensable for the night. There was the usual pa6 • Horses to Fondi,' said the Englishman, as the land- | rade of trunks and writing desks, and portfolios and dress. lord came bowing to the carriage door.
ing-boxes, and those other oppressive conveniencies which 66 • Would not his Eccellenza alight and take some re- | burthen a comfortable man. The observant loiters about freshment ?"
the inn door, wrapped up in great dirt-coloured cloaks, with No-he did not mean to eat until he got to Fondi, only a hawk's eye uncovered, made many remarks to each But the horses will be some t
some time in getting ready.' ll other on this quantity of luggage that seemed enough for an 666 Ah! that's always the way; nothing but delay in army. And the domestics of the inn talked with wonder of this cursed country.”
the splendid dressing-case, with its gold and silver furni" • If his Eccellenza would only walk into the house ture, that was spread out on the toilet-table, and the bac of
tell you no!-I want nothing but gold that chinked as it was taken out of the trunk. The horses, and as quick as possible. John, see that the horses | Strange milor's wealth, and the treasures he carried about are got ready, and don't let us be kept here an hour or two. || him, were the talk, that evening, over all Terracina, Tell bim if we're delayed over the time, I'll lodge a com- | “ The Englishman took some time to make his ablutions plaint with the postmaster.'
lland arrange his dress for table, and, after considerable la" John touched his hat, and set off to obey his master's || bour and effort in putting himself at his case, made his aporders with the taciturn obedience of an English servant. Il pearance, with stiff white cravat, his clothes free froin ihre
“ In the meantime, the Englishman got out of the car- | least speck of dust, and adjusted with precision. lle made riage and walked up and down before the inn with hi
a civil bow on enter in his pockets, taking no notice of the crowd of idlers who || which the fair Venetian, accustomed to the complinen tary were gazing at him and his equipage. He was tall, stout, | salutations of the continent, considered extremely cold. and well made; dressed with neatness and precision; wore | “ The supper, as it was termed by the Italian, or dinner, a travelling cap of the colour of gingerbread; and had | as t
man called it, was now served.
t, was now served; heaven and rather an unhappy expression about the corners of his | earth, and the waters under the earth, had been moved to mouth; partly from not having yet made his dinner, and || furnish it; for there were birds of the air, and beasts of the partly from not having been able to get on at a greater | field, and fish of the sea. The Englishman's servant, too, rate than seven miles an hour; not that he had any other I had turned the kitchen topsy-turvy in his zeal to cook his cause for haste than an Englishman's usual hurry to get to master a beefsteak, and made his appearance, loaded with the end of a journey; or, to use the regular phrase, to ketchup, and soy, and Cayenne pepper, and Harvey sauce, ge: on. Perhaps too he was a little sore from having been and a bottle of port wine, from that warchouse the carriage, fleeced at every stage of his journey.
Vin which his master seemed desirous of carrying England “ After some time, the servant returned from the stable |about the world with him. Indeed the repast was one of with a look of some perp
those Italian farragoes which require a little qualifying. 46 • Are the horses ready, John ?
The tureen of soup was a black sea, with livers, and limbs, ". No, Sir-I never saw such a place. There's no get- ll and fragments of all kinds of birds and beasts floating like ting any thing done. I think your honour had better step / wrecks about it. A meagre-winged animal, which may host