adopted, the effect would be, to throw the power of returning members to Parliament exclusively into the hands of the lower orders? Blue. Certainly. Stranger. And what would follow next? Blue.-Ah! that I cannot tell. Stranger. I am surprised you should find any difficulty. The result appears to me as clear as that of any problem in mathematics. Let us try and simplify the inquiry. Suppose five hundred persons, forming a little commonwealth of their own. Of these five hundred, we will imagine one hundred, or one hundred and fifty, to be rich, educated, and the employers of the remaining three hundred and fifty; putting the whole of their industry and labour in motion, and living at their ease, while the rest, having neither wealth nor education, worked entirely for their benefit and convenience. I will next suppose, that it is agreed upon, to invest twelve of the five hundred with a power to establish whatever regulations they might think necessary, for the good of the whole body; these regulations extending to an absolute control over the lives, liberty, property, and rights of each individual member. How would you propose that these twelve should be appointed? You will at once perceive, looking at their intended functions, that the safety, welfare, and stability of the entire community, would depend upon their wisdom, integrity, and prudence. Blue.-(Emptying his glass.)—My service to you-I see what you are driving at. Stranger. The first thing which a skilful workman does, is, to consider what he has to perform; the next, to employ the fittest means for performing it. He does not take a blunt hatchet to carve, curiously, a rose-bud in ivory. Now, the thing to be performed here, is the selection of twelve prudent, upright, and intelligent men; and the means for attaining this end would naturally seem to be, to devolve the selection upon competent persons. But this, if it were done, would confine the privilege, or nearly so, to the one hundred and fifty rich and educated persons; and that would be establishing a "vile, corrupt, and tyrannical oligarchy.' Say, then, the privilege were extended, so as to embrace the more respectable and intelligent portion of the remaining three hundred and fifty. Still, the "vile, corrupt and tyrannical oligarchy," would constitute a majority, and become, in effect, the elective body. We must go a step further, therefore, upon your principle, that of giving "every man the privilege of voting for those persons to whom he consents to delegate the power of making the laws," and throw open the right to the whole three hundred and fifty. Blue. And what then? Stranger. Why this then. As is the source, such will be the stream. I dismiss from my mind all aristocratical notions of the lower orders. I will not assume profligate and vicious motives, as a necessary consequence of inferiority of station. Not that I am any admirer of the irrational_many, the fickle, unthinking multitude; but because, for my argument, I have no occasion to press these auxiliaries into my service. I go back to my proposition that the end to be accomplished, is the selection of twelve prudent, upright, and intelligent men, and I leave to you the task of shewing how this selection is to be made, by a body of persons incapable of coming to a sound decision. I say incapable; for with the best intentions, with the most sincere desire to do right, I deny, that men of contracted minds, circumscribed observation, shallow experience, and crude judgments, can determine upon either the positive or relative degree in which a thing is possessed, they themselves being more or less ignorant of the very nature of the thing required. Yet, by throwing into the hands of such men a preponderating power, they become the only source of legislative wisdom and purity; but, until we gather figs from thistles, and grapes from thorns, we must not look to receive, as the choice of the multitude, sages or philosophers. I remember to have read of one of your kings, I mean Charles II. that he sought to depreciate the merit of Queen Elizabeth, by observing that she was fortunate in having wise ministers. "And when," replied the nobleman to whom the observation was addressed, "when did you ever know a foolish sovereign choose wise ministers?" The Sovereign People-his Majesty the Many-are not, I think, very likely to choose wisely, and therefore [Here the conversation was interrupted by a mob of ragged boys, dirty women, and half drunken men, shouting opposite the window," Willers and Cunninem for ever!-Willers and Cunninem for ever!-three cheers for Willers and Cunninem!" The Blue rushed out to join them. The Stranger shrugged his shoulders, and exclaimed " Universal suffrage-universal ruin-an invasion of the body politic as monstrous, as if, in the natural body, the feet should direct the head, instead of the head directing the feet!"] THE FATE OF GENIUS. Ah! who can tell, how hard it is to climb And waged with Fortune an eternal war! ВЕАТТІЕ. A corner of the CANTERBURY MAGAZINE will not be ill-appropriated, to rescue from the perishable columns of a newspaper, a case of literary distress, which may vie, in melancholy interest, with the saddest memorials of neglected genius;-sad and sorrowful as many of them are. A critical notice of a translation of "Cuvier's Animal Kingdom," in the Times of January 24th, contained the following sentence: "The gentlemen who have been associated with Mr. Griffith in this arduous undertaking, are Mr. Edward Pidgeon, Colonel Charles Hamilton Smith, Mr. John Edward Gray, and Mr. George Gray; their competency and qualifications are sufficiently well known." In the Times of the 27th was published a letter from a friend of Mr. Pidgeon, which, after quoting the above sentence, thus continued: was "With respect to one of those gentlemen, Mr. Pidgeon, he certainly was 'not sufficiently well known,' otherwise he would not have been suffered to perish in want and misery. The lauded volume "Fossil Remains" wholly his own composition; and besides, I have good reason to believe that nine-tenths of the other volumes passed through his pen. He was, moreover, an excellent classical scholar; but it ought to be known to all aspirants in the walks of literature, that their success must depend as much, if not more, on accident than on talent; that booksellers in extensive speculations look only to the name of their author or editor, and know little or nothing at all of the drudge, who is often employed, for a wretched pittance, to produce the manuscript. My business, however, is with facts rather than with commentaries. The following relates to the closing scene of Mr. Pidgeon's life. "On the 13th of September last I received, by post, the annexed letter: Dear Sir, I am forlorn and destitute beyond all conception. I have no one to speak to, not even a book to speak to me. Will you take compassion on me and lend me something to read? 1 care little what it is, provided it be neither political economy nor German metaphysics. 'Yours most truly, EDWARD PIDGEON. On the morning of the 14th October, a messenger came to inform me that Mr. Pidgeon was found dead in his bed, and that the following note, in pencil, was lying open on his table : 6 TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. If any be desirous of knowing why I have quitted this world, my motives are incurable disease and hopeless penury--disease incurable from the pressure of penury-penury hopeless, from the pressure of disease. I have no money, no energy, no friends that can raise me from the mire; in short, I die because I can live no longer. Who wants a better reason? P. S.-I am desirous that my body may be dissected.' E. P. "From these documents, it is sufficiently evident that if Mr. Pidgeon's talents were well known, they were not well appreciated. He was buried at the expense of a private friend.” What a picture is here! and accidentally brought to light; for, at the time this ill-fated man of genius closed his eyes upon the world, it was with no more of sympathy for his sufferings or his end, beyond the private circle of his friends, than if he had been one of the thousands who die hourly. Reader, place this picture, for a moment, before you. Contemplate its details. Call but a little fancy to your aid, and you may fill up the dark outline, with images suitably designed and colored. Mr. Pidgeon was a scholar -had penetrated the depths of a science not easily explored-must have devoted years to the attainment of that knowledge by which he was distinguished—and could trace, in all probability, the incurable disease” which, at last, sharpened by penury, wore out his love of life, to that toilsome labor of the mind which can be carried on only at the sacrifice of all healthful exercise, and grateful interchange of recreation. And for what? The hope of rising above the common level of the millions whose progress, from the cradle to the grave, leaves behind it no more trace or sign than the arrow's flight. Who can tell, how many miserable forebodings, how many heart-breaking disappointments, how many desponding moments, this hope, his single comforter, soothed or chased away, till at last the charmer could charm no more? And then it was, in the bitterness, not of hope deferred, but of hope destroyed, that he addressed his friend "I am FORLORN and DESTITUTE beyond all conception! I have no one to speak to not even a book to speak to me. Will you take compassion on me, and lend me something to read?" I cannot conceive anything more touching, than these few lines: anything more truly indicative of the privations, which a scholastic mind would most acutely feel. "I am forlorn-destitute-I have no one to speak to-will you take compassion on me and lend me-what? money?-the common, the natural prayer of the necessitous-no-" sOMETHING TO READ.' He did not crave from his friend wherewith to get food, or raiment, or any of those home comforts, without which the best of us are but poor disconsolate creatures —his cry was not-give me to eat, or I perish-but "take compassion on me," and supply me with that which has been through life my first and greatest want, that for which I now most hunger-and of which my destitute condition has deprived me-sustenance for my mind! A noble supplication! Oh! that a mind capable of retiring within itself, asking only for its need, regardless of all other, should ever have been doomed to feel, that the dull and plodding artisan could thrive in a world, where it was left to languish and to die! M. *** Since the above was written, a pitiful controversy has been carried on in the Times, as to the amount of starvation which Mr. Pidgeon endured, and the extent of his blighted hopes. One writer, who signs himself “ An old friend of the late Edward Pidgeon," has the incredible folly to assert, that the "document said to be found lying upon his table on the morning of the 14th October, when Mr. Pidgeon was discovered dead in his bed, originated in a moment of jocularity!!! and was exhibited, in that spirit, by himself, on several occasions, to many of his acquaintance, at least three months prior to his dissolution!" Yes-it has every appearance of being a jocular effusion; as that other "document" has, of being an excellent jest. This friend would be the man, of all others, to discover the hidden joke in hanging, or flaying alive. SOME OF THE ADVANTAGES OF DUELLING. I am surprised that any moralist should object to the practice of duelling, when it is considered how many advantages it possesses. In the first place, rogues and bullies, who are commonly cowards also, are kept in some sort of check, by the dread of a bullet through their body; or if they surmount that dread, then the probability is, that society will be relieved from them by the actual perforation of their skulls. Their extinction is a positive benefit gained. The law, with all its amplitude of construction, is too inoperative to reach their offences; and to wait for their natural demise would be a severe probation indeed to the well disposed part of the community. The Another benefit which duelling is calculated to produce, is the artificial stimulus it gives to trade. The gun-maker who sells the pistols, the powder manufacturer, and the bullet-caster, all find a vent for their commodities. tailor, too, comes in for his share of the general good; for if the duellist saves his life, 'tis ten to one but he spoils some part of his garments. Then, if he happen to be married, and should die in the field of glory, perhaps a widow's heart is made happy by his death; or an expectant heir rejoices in his sudden accession to fortune and a title; while the necessity of going into mourning provides employment for mantua-makers, &c. to say nothing of the job which the undertaker gets, or the gin and porter swallowed by his mutes. In addition, we may reckon a doctor's fee, and a surgeon's bill, provided the wounded man is not cleanly hit off ; and lastly, the emoluments of the parson, the grave-digger, the sexton, and the bell-ringer. Now, who that contemplates these multiplied benefits, which all flow from the single act of blowing a man's brains out, will venture to deny that such an act is highly meritorious? Is it possible for a man, sometimes, to do a greater kindness to his wife, than to make her a widow, especially if he happen to be rich enough to have settled a comfortable jointure upon her? Can he more essentially serve his heir, than by quitting the world ? Can he better assist a surgeon than by having an eylet-hole through his body? Can he confer any favour upon an undertaker without saying good-bye to this world? He then, who does all these things, or who is instrumental in their being done, must be a benefactor to society, and such a benefactor, I contend a duellist to be, who takes a sure aim. I really think, therefore, that men ought to be permitted to kill each other, when the public executioner has no claim upon their wind-pipes. A soldier who hires himself to be shot at for a shilling a day, is reckoned a valiant man, and a useful member of society; but if two gentlemen wish to scatter the little brains they may happen to have, they are either peevishly condemned, or all the myrmidons of the law are employed to prevent them. This is cruel persecution; and I perfectly agree with the noble and patriotic sentiment of the grave-digger in Hamlet, (a little altered.) "The more the pity, that great folks should not have countenance in this world, to drown or hang themselves, as well as their even Christian," BOBADIL. THE FIRST AND LAST APPEARANCE OF MR. HENRY AUGUSTUS CONSTANTINE STUBBS, IN THE CHARACTER OF HAMLET. BY WILLIAM MUDFORD. MR. HENRY AUGUSTUS CONSTANTINE STUBBS was the son of Mr. Jonanathan Stubbs; and Mr. Jonathan Stubbs was the husband of Angelina Stubbs, daughter and heiress of Benjamin Grogram, Esq. of Kerseymere IIall, a Grecian villa in the vale of Forest Hill, bordering on Peckham Rye Common. Miss Angelina Grogram had trod the flowery path of seven and twenty springs, not indeed "Abjuring For ever the society of men;" but, in spite of their society, "living a barren sister," and "chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitless moon.' Neither did she exult in the thought, that she had been able to "master so her blood," as to "undergo such maiden pilgrimage," while, in proportion as she drew nearer and nearer to the half-way house of life's journey, she became more and more convinced, that "Earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, It was under the influence of this conviction that she listened, with something like impatient complacency, to the tender protestations of Mr. Jonathan Stubbs, a young man of four and twenty, well to do in the world as a drysalter, in Threadneedle-street, with a pair of black eyes, straight legs, ruddy cheeks, and a comely person. Her father approved of her choice; she approved of her father's approbation; Mr. Stubbs approved of his good fortune-(for, as already said, Angelina was an heiress)—and in less than six months after the first ogle, she became Mrs. Stubbs, and he received three thousand pounds for the use of his name, besides the expectancy of as much more,whenever his beloved father-in-law should exchange Kerseymere Hall, for the "tomb of all the Grograms." I have never seen one of those silver spoons which are said to be found in the mouths of certain little cherubs when they are born; but I as devoutly believe in their existence as I do in that of a multitude of other things of which I have had no ocular demonstration. I believe, for example, that a lawyer loves honesty better than money; that a Jew may be a gentleman; that a minister may desert his principles, and not betray his country; that a Whig may become a convert to the orthodoxy of Toryism, and his conversion have nothing to do with place, patronage, and pelf; that rogues who are found out, are the only rogues; and that a common-council-man understands politics better than he does gherkins and pickled cabbage. I can believe all these things, though I have never witnessed them; and a fortiori, I can believe in the manufacture of those silver spoons, which are known to be so decisive of a man's prosperity in this world; because, albeit I have never seen the spoons themselves, I have seen numberless instances of their auspicious influence, in persons whose success could be rationally accounted for in no other way. I do not find it so recorded,but I affirm that Jonathan Stubbs came into the world with his silver spoon. Every thing prospered with him. His business went on well. That, it may be said, was owing to his own prudent management. But he was burnt out three times in seven years, and each time gained by the calamity, thanks to the fair dealing and solvency of the office in which he was insured. The last time this misfortune happened, there appeared some injurious comments in the newspapers. He brought VOL. II. I |