The Press. — London, England, 1857-05-09 00:00:00

MAY 9, 1857. • If a ray of light could be imagined conscious that in taking the course prescribed by the law of retraction it were tollowin4 the principle of least action, and by choice selecting the shortest and easiest ratite compatible with the conditions offered by the refracting medium, this would be a far less wonderful result than that the tin• conscious mechanically-conatituted series of waves in an insensible ether, or of molecules in a projected beam, should by necessity fulfil such a law, as a consequence of their pre-ordained nature combined with that of the media they traverse. In like manner, that a conscious iminate rial agent should by volition perform intellectual acts through the medium of an organised brain, would be a far less wonderful case, than that the brain itself, by the mere action of determinate physical causes, should itself be the agent of thought. The materialistic doctrine, it it were trite, so far trom being derogatory to designing wisdom and power, would, in fact, present a far higher and more striking instance of it. --- - Mr. Bridges essay upon " The Jews of Europe in the Middle Ages " will be found by many persons the most attractive in the number—it deals with so nitwit new matter, and is written in so SZ pirited and masculine a style. It has, we believe, already received the stamp of Academic approval in the shape of the Arnold Prize, but it will not be on that account the less novel to the general public. The opening paragraph is very happy : The story of the Jews in the middle ages deserves to be told, for reasons of very different kinds. It is a tragedy self niale, and more terrible than any poet's fiction. It has, too, the interest of all masterpieces, that we are fami liar with all that has gone before. Our childhood is nursed with tales of the childhood of the Jewish nation. Peace• ful patriarchal families coalescing into a tribe, creeping with stealthy defiance from the treacherous hospitality of Egypt, hardened by their desert life, and moulded into a nation of w•trriors by the greatest of lawgivers, shattering the giant Aniskim by the force of faith and law, and giving birth to sublime prophets and a long line of kings i—such. is the ancient story, which we know far better than the tale of Saxon, l)ane, and Norman. But the line of con tinuity is strangely broken. We follow them into their exile, their happy restoration, the magnificent fury of their last defiance, and then we lose them utterly for many centuries, to find them in the present day rising once again from misery and defilement, reverend, like (E,liptis, for age and sorrow, and gifts not earthly; shunned, like fur memories of awful and mysterious sin. The prospect of the restoration of the Jews leads Mr. Bridges into some general reflec tions upon national permanence which we fear are a little extravagant. The assertion that a great nation never dies is pleasant from its very boldness; but unless the words be used in some " non-natural sense," we see not how it is reconeileable with facts. Nor do we attribute any very great weight even to the examples he adduces. We do not see how the fact that certain Roman customs exist in Italy at the present day moves that the Romans and the Italians are the same people. Mr. Sella'. on Thucydides is sober, thought• ful, and substantial. Some of the best parts of his essay are those devoted to the speeches introduced into the historian's narrative. He says generally : . . . The iirominen - ce assigned to such speeches is sometimes complained of as a defect in the ancient historians. These addresses certainly are at variance with the pure idea of his'ory, the natural function of which is to represent only what actually has been done or said, not what might have been done or said. It is not necessary here to vindicate the practice of other writers; but of Thncyilides it may be sAid that he lived in an age and in a State,in which public speech was not only a real power, but was indeed the chief mover of action. In the free States of the modern world, where the press contributes so much to the formation of public opinion, and where so many impediments to sudden political movements exist, the influence of oratory is weak, compared with what it was upon the Athenians from the age of Pericles to that of Demosthenes. In the history of the Peloponnesian war we find sometimes a second day's debate altering intentions, and on one occasion reversing a most important resolution, which wouldother wise have been followed by immediate conger-penes. The reader may consult with advantage some remarks of Lord Bolingbroke upon this subject in the " Spirit of Patriotism." His words are a curious anticipation of Mr. SeHar's on the prominence of oratory in both Greek and Roman statesmanship. It does not appear to us that the de scription of character and motives, and the habit of summing up what can be said on either side, which we find in the Pages of Thueydides, is in reality any greater departure from histoi ie truth than is to be met with in modern writers. In Mr. Macaulay, for instance, the cases of conflicting parties are often stated at considerable length, and differ only in form from the harangues in Thucydides and Livy. He does not attempt to put their arguments as the men themselves would have done in a popular assembly, but rather as they would come out from the revi- THE PRESS. sion and reflection of the study. Much the same, according to Mr. Seliar, are the charac teristics of the speeches iu Thucydides. The outline of the real argument is perhaps pre served, but the filling up and the general reflections are his own. They are not suffi ciently passionate, or " cogently deductive," for an audience. " The thought which per " vades them is not that which effects imme " diate persuasion, but which enlightens all " time." Mr. Seller has noticed an important feature in the character of Cleon : The speech of Cleon, in the debate about Mitylene, is consistent with he character Thuey.lides generally attri butes to him, in regard to the violence of the policy advocated and the imputation of corrupt motives to hi , . opponents; and it is true to the type of a demagogue in this subtle point, that, when the poplar will appears likely to declare against him, he denounces free institii tiona as in •ompatible with foreign empire, atal itivei2lis against that liberty of discussion to which he owed all his influence and popularity. Compare with this Mr. Cobden's denuncia tion of leading articles, and we find ono more illustration of the hackneyed truth that extremes meet, and not least of all in polities. As free discussion is the soul of constitutional government, because by that each class in the State is enabled to keep before the public eye what is excellent iu itself, and thereby to preserve the balance of all, so as it is in this graduation of classes that personal ambition finds its greatest enemy, that which is its principal support has ever been hated alike by the despot and the dema gogue. Of Mr. Church's article on Montaigne we can only say that it seems a very thoughtful and skilful paper; but as the subject has so recently been before the public, we cannot discuss it more particularly. From Bombay to Bushire and Bussora, including an Account of the Present State of Persia. By William Ashton Shepherd. London : Bentley. Tins is a slight but pleasing volume, full of pen-pictures, and not dealing much with solid realities, or the grave emergencies now de pendent on our Oriental policy. We are dis appointed in the portions which profess to treat of " :he present state of Persia." The author appears to be a surgeon, and his volume is free front any offensive pretentious ness. Its dedication would disarm the most corrosive of reviewers :—.• To her who has " been my solace in sickness, and companion "in trouble, this little volumeis dedicated ;" and an amiable, genial spirit pervades every page in the work. We suspect that its writer is a great admirer of " Eiithen," and we are occa sionally reminded of Mr Kinglake as we turn over these vivid landscapes on paper. What can be more lifelike than the following first view of Bushire ? The boatswain, after twice emptying his lungs, and perfuming a series of ups and downs with his whistle, as gruffly bawled " Hand 4, hanker ship," laying a strong emphasis on the " hen," and rolling out the r of the " ker," as if the hands and ship were of only minor consideration. And von low town with its eight or nine mud chimneys. its two round towerr, its rather important spread of white flat. roofed houses, some dozen dive trees, and two flagstaff.. from one of which is flying the Lion and Sun of Persia. front the other, in this the corner nearer to the sea, the Ensign of England; yon town, looking like a city, hall built on the extreme of a sandy penimmla, of whic!t the sea at some time has been heartily tired, and so thrown it up ; with the mountain of Hallilah in the hack (mound, and a few native boats in the fore—is liu.hire. The offer of a seat in the captain's gig tempts us on shore, which we reach by pulling some five miles round, the anchorage being about two and a half as the sea gull would fly. The tom n. as we near it, presents sundry round towers linked by low walls, that endeavour to look martial and formidable, but so pitiable is the attempt at fierceness, that no one would envy the position of the gunner who had to are the first thirty• two-pounder from them, as those white sandstone. mud cemented walls would never stand the recoil, but rattle down about his ears. We have pulled past those twelve or fifteen hnealows with their high grotesque prows and low sterns, their heavy masts raking forwards in the endless and vain effort of pushing down the prow. with their ro-gh sides and wide seams caulked with oiled cotton, and looking as if no im• provemeiu MA taken place in shipbuilding since the days of Nearchus. We have passed those few timbers just seen above the surface at high water (said to be the wreck of the only man of war ever built in Persia, and that by Nadir Shah, with the timber of Mazan. 461 deran brought on men's hacks over the far mountains) ; we have nearly run down that heavy boat with six Nubian rowers singing to each stroke Of the o'er, who ha i as little idea of making room for the gig, as a bull has 01 the Pope ; and so, after rounding a host of sand- banks, and grounding on as many m )re, shaving through a small fleet of bugaluwa and escaping a collision, we have arrived at what is called a jetty, " The Custom-house Jetty," a long strip stolen from the sea, built upon date tree trunl a, and boasting a very primitive crane, rather like a gallows, and near to which is a brass nine•pounder, really a very respectable gun on a broken down carriage. Filth hest s, mud pools, dogs, monkeys, hawks, fowls, horses, cam' Is, donkeys, Arabs, Turks, filthy diseased children, ty peeping women, Armenians and Persians, are all here to stare at us, and get as much in our way as they possilt y can, and crowd round, and all but touch us. That slim eager•l'oking Jew, with his small leering eyes, has already settled the quality of the cloth that covers our backs, the price he would give, ask, and profit make on it ; and that tall fair•faced Armenian is puzzled to think why our e ligion is not as pure as his. That Persian, with his animal eyes and handsome face almost effeminate, has measured us front head to foot, and called its mentally F'erity;ee ; while the Arab, stroking his red beard, has not even bestowed a thought on us, we are an far beneath his notice. There, facing us, is the Custom Louse, a large building with a large gateway, surmounted by a square tower with Venetian windows opening on each side, where sit and watch tee tax•takers. But there is a second view of the same scene, which is presented with no less felicity by the writer : Next to the Customhouse is the largest of the two can• vanserais which Bushire boasts ; you know it by tht se bales of merchandise unloadilg from that string of came:s, which wilh their legs tucked under them, their mild small eyes, and ever moving jaws, have brought their bodies to the ground, and are submitting to the abuse of that fero cious•bioking driver, with pistols in his belt in company with three daggers and a sabre, together with a variety of cartouch boxes and several ramrods. We have entered, and found it to be a large square sur• rounded by high walls, with long rows of stabling for the mules and horses (the camels may lie about outside), and arched recesses in the walls, for the accommodation of the merchants and their goods; with a large square planet m in the middle raised some five or six feet from the ground, on which they sleep in the hot weather. Unless you wish to be covered with vermin of every species, and filth of every sort, make your exit. Go not to the left, it would bring you to the towers we have already seen, where the accumulated filth of the city is thrown ( for there is no drainage here), and which sends forth a stench that would be smelt through all the gunpowder that could ever he exploded thence at any bombarding enemy. Go not to the left, but turn to the right; some twenty yards will bring you to the extremity of the bazaar. Heed it not, or you will be late for dinner at the Residency; you have a mile and a half to walk yet, up that short scramble on your right, between the walls of those two-storied houses (all the houses are, two-storied in this city ), keep close to the wall and be careful not to slip from that shelving path only half a foot broad, or you will sink ankle deep in slush. lint what is to be done? you are face to face with a half naked filth-covered Persian, who coolly asks von to give him something, pointing to his lips and patting his stomach; he has not the remotest intention of getting out of your way till you have paid him. Seize him by the only bit of cover he has about his chest, lift him up, and deposit him in the mud he would force you into, leave him there to re"over from his astonishment, but shake your hand, or other life than that which you care for will infest it ; now to sure that our friend will remember you when you next meet, and will make room f,,r you. The defences of Bushire are not consider able. Mr. Shepherd thus describes them:— I counted, as T rode round the wall and through the town, a dozen pieces of cannon, the majority of them brass nine pounders, four of which were stationed so as to command the gateway; one had its position on the quay, and three were honoured as the guard of the governor's residence. The soldiers (of whom there were many loitering about, and pretending to do duty on the walls) presented the most grotesque and mixed appearance. Some (evidently the body-guard of the governor) wore, in imitation of our army, shell jackets and white trousers, but so loose that they had room in their flapping legs for at least a corporal's guard. The shsll-jackets had been bought and exported from India. Their arms consisted of the Company's old flint muskets and bayonets ; and with those, following a really very respectable fife and drum, they marched round, morning, noon, and night, to relieve guard. But the majority of the soldiers were armed with matchlocks and pistols, one or two daggeis, and a straight, short sword; from the shoulder-bel a bung pendent cartouch boxes, with different-sized cartridges, powder-horns for loading, and different ones for priming, ind various siz d ramrods, with their high, conical-shaped Brown felt cap stuck down on one side, as is the custom only of the military; their .fl-wing robes, reaching down to the knees and drawn in at the waist; their short loose tucked up trousers, stockintiless, and perhaps yelow. slipper enveloped feet, they looked as grotesquely ridicu lous as it is possible fur irregulars to look. The publication of this work is timely ; but it adds little to our previous knowledge of the ground described. Its author hits literary talents ; and we have perused his graphic recollections with pleasure. The volume would have been improved with a map. Off A