The Press. — London, England, 1856-02-16 00:00:00

160 The admirals assembled at Baltchiek on the 19th of August to deliberate, and Admirals Dundas an I Hamelin declared against the expedition under existing cireum- Marshal St. Arnaud, however, summoned a council of war a few days after : The question of the expedition, delayed by fatal events, was again brought forward. If, on the one hand, the allies bad unfavorable chances, and eventualities almost certain to encounter, on the other hand was it not necessary to to take into consideration the situation in which the armies would be placed by continued inaction? France, England, and Europe were waiting with anxiety ; while, from the gravity of the situation of the troops at Varna, ravaged as they were by sickness, they can only be restored by a great and energetic enterprise. The Marshal dominated the discussion. "Itis no longer any use," he said, "thinking of the obstacles that exist, but of the means of vanquishing them. It is a great responsibility we are about to assume—true ; but we must place ours'lves about it. Let there be no more doubt, no indecision—time presses. Our resolution to•day must be irrevocable." He spoke with heat, with energy, with that enthusiasm which is peculiar to him. What passed in the council was strange : fascinated by that eloquence of conviction which exposed with equal frankness the good and bad features of the expedition, the moat hostile voted affirmatively. What the Marshal said was, that the situation of the two armies—afflicted with cholera, remaining inactive and useless to the cause they were sent to defend—was a very sad one. He then called to mind the combats in which the Turks had been en gaged, and dwelt on the imperative necessity of England and France taking an attitude worthy of them and of their cause. Then he spoke with calm of the difficulties which beset. and the olist; des which opposed, the enterprise; but said that they might he overcome, and that the enter- prise would remain one of such bold energy as to astonish the world. " Judge—appreciate," he cried in conclus on— " raise yourselves to the height of circumstances—remem ber that Europe regards you—and decide. But know well that when cnce a resolution shall be taken no irresolution can be permitted ; it will no longer be time to retrace your steps." The discussion which followed was very spirited; and a good many opinions hostile to the expedition were expressed. Amongst the opponents of it was Admiral Dundas ; he, to the last moinen., was against it, and en• deavoured to thwart it by all the means in his power. Admiral Hamelin also hesi'ated to incur the immense responsibility of such a campaign, the success of which was far from being certain. But Lord Raglan, Admiral Lyons, and Admiral Bruat were for it. When the vote was taken, Lord Raglan first spoke, and he said yes. Admiral Dundee, influenced by his example, also voted for it, but certainly with great reluctance. The ➢larshal voted last, and when he put an end to the sitting he said, " Gen• lemen, it is agreed, and irrevocably decided, that the ex• pedition shall take place. Let us now unite all our efforts, in order not to lose a day, an hour, or a minute !" Although thus decided, the Marshal felt deeply the tremendous responsibility that weighed on him, was agitated with grave doubts, and " addressed to God ardent prayers" to give him strength to execute the enterprise._ The preparations were pushed on with all pos sible activity, but he wrote to the Minister of War : Assuredly our resources are not so complete as could be desired. We have not a very numerous army ; but the courage and impetuosity of the troops will increase the number tenfold. Nothing is impossible to soldiers like ours, and to the fraternal union of the two nations. The end of the month of August was fixed for the departure of the expedition, but owing to the rough state of the sea the embarkation of the French troops did not commence until the Ist of September, and it was continued on the 2nd. The English ought to have embarked at the same time, but the fleet was not ready on the 3rd, nor on the 4th, and on the three following days Marshal St. Arnaud wrote in his diary _ _ Sept. the receipt of a letter from Admiral Dundas announcing that he will follow us, the fleet set sail at four o'clock in the morning. In the course of the day Admiral Dundas wrote to say that be was not yet ready. The French fleet, without its convoy, continues its progress slowly. At eleven o'clock in the evening letter from Admiral Dundas ; he says that the transports had not enough water, but that he hoped to sail at last the next morning. 6. The English fleet not appeared. At midday I wrote to Lord Raglan pointing out to him the incon veniences caused thereby. I sent the Caton with the letter. The fleet waiting for the English. 7. Same situation. The wind becomes favorable, and the fleet continues its route. At midday Admiral Hamelin sends else Primawriet with a letter for Admiral Dundas. At three o'clock the Caton returns. It was only this morn ing, the 7th, that Admiral Dundas decided on setting sail ; and this tardy determination was not taken until after he bad had a very sharp discussion with Admiral Lyons, who wished to sail yesterday. The weather is magnificent. On the sth the English fleet arrived at the rendezvous, at the Isle of Serpents. Then a council of generals and admirals was held to fix the precise point of disembarkation. The Marshal was strongly in favour of the Katcha, but a commission of French and English generals, headed by Lord Raglan (the Marshal ki THE PRESS. was too ill to go), went to examine the coast. They decided on disembarking at Old Fort, near Eupatoria; the Marshal still held out for Kateha, as nearer to Sebastopol, and as prefer able in other respects; but Lord Raglan and the English generals peremptorily insisted on Old Fort being chosen, and the Marshal yielded. (To be continued.) Recollections of the Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers; to which is added Porsoniana. London : Moxon. THIS volume is of very slight texture. The " Table-Talk " consists for the most part of anecdotes and recollections, rising little, if at all, above the twaddling garrulity of old age— Ex. gr.:— When I was a schoolboy, 1 wore, like other schoolboys, a cocked hat—we used to run about the fields, chasing butterflies, in cocked hats. After growing up, I have walked through St. Paul's-churchyard in a cocked hat. I recollect when it was still the fashion for gentlemen to wear swords. I have seen Haydu play at a concert in a tie•wig, with a sword at his side. I remember taking Beattie's " Minstrel "down from my father's shelves, on a fine summer evening, and reading it, for the first time, with such delight! It still charms me ( I mean the first book; the second book is very inferior). During my youth umbrellas were far from common. At that time every gentleman's family had one umbrella—a huge thing, made of coarse cotton—which used to betaken out with the carriage, and which, if there was rain, the footman held over the ladies' heads, as they entered, or alighted from, the carriage. It is inexcusable in any one to write illegibly. When I was a schoolboy, I used to get hold of our writing-master's copies and trace them by holding them against the window —hence the plain hand I now write. During my youth I used to go to the Hampstead As semblies, which were frequented by a great deal of good company. There I have danced four or five minuets in one evening. A person once asserted that in a particular country the bees were as large as sheep. He was asked " How big, then, are the hives ?"—" Oh," he replied, " the usual siz The editor tells us that his volume contains only a selection from the memoranda he has by him of Rogers's conversation. If he has favoured us with the pick of the poet's utter ances, what must the refuse have been ? To judge from this volume, Rogers could have had little capacity for original thought. There is in the book scarcey one idea justly belonging to him worth remembrance, and most of the anecdotes to be found which have any point are well known, and have been often printed —as, for example, the bon-mot of the first Lord Holland on Selwyn's fondness for deadly spectacles, and the story told of Charles Fox and his bond-creditor Some persons quite destitute of the flash and play of intellect which constitute really good conversation, of natural wit and lively fancy and buoyant animal spirits, have a store of various knowledge and pleasant anecdotes picked up in social intercourse, with which they can illustrate any topic of discourse. But the mental collections of Rogers seem to have been as poor as his original faculties. His mind had an affinity for little things. It was nu more capanle of bearing matters of weight than it was of making a vigorous effort. Oddly enough, he seems to have prided himself on the costiveness of his brains. When relating an observation by Crabbe, that he limited himself to forty lines a day, Rogers said—" Why not, like me, limit himself to four " lines ?" His " Human Life" engaged him, he says, for nineyears, and his " Italy ' for sixteen years. Had he not been blinded by vanity, he would have known that nothing truly great can spring hum such painful and protracted effort. The incessant touching and retouch ing on which some persons insist is of doubt ful value. One burst of genius, such as came from Burns at his plough, is worth the toil of a life of mediocrity. What Byron produced with ease in an hour, after a night of revelry, would be ill exchanged for all that Mr. Rogers elaborated during his long life. Few men with any reputation for talent did less. He retired from the business of his bank at an early age, and had his time to himself. But he took no part iu any of the great movements of his day. His name is connected with no principle or enterpise. He loved the gossip and calumny of Whiig polities, but had not SATURDAY, ardour enough to embrace them cordially • One of his recollections is, that Fox, speaking of Queen Charlotte, called her " that bad " woman." Nelson, he says, was hated at Court—" They were jealous of his fame !" He was willing to believe anything that Caine to him on the authority of his political friends, though too feeble by nature to throw his heart into their cause. The best lines he ever wrote are those which conclude (if we recollect rightly) the •" Plea sures of Memory," in which he insists on the permanence of such pleasures : But can the wiles of art, the grasp of power, Snatch the rich relics of a well•spent hour? The idea was evidently taken from a passage in Dryden, which, it is said, he greatly ad mired : •' Dryden's imitations of Horace," he would say, " are bettter than the originals : how fine this is:— Happy the mall, and happy be alone, He who can call today his own; He who, secure within, can say, Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have liv'd to-day ; Be fair or foul, or rain or shine, The joys I have possess'd, in spite of Fate, are mine; Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour." Elsewhere we find another instance of his plagiarism : Boddington had a wretchedly bpd memory; and in order to improve it, he attended Feinaigle's lectures on the Art of Memory. Soon after, somebody asked Boddington the name of the lecturer ; and, for his life, he could not recol• lect it.—When I was asked if I had attended the said lee. tures on the Art of Memory, I replied, " No : I wished to learn the Art of Forgetting." The idea is, of course, taken from Johnson, who supposes it would be more rational to complain of being unable to forget than being unable to remember. A few anecdotes we find here are worth extracting. Burke had exquisite felicity in compliment : I wns present when Sir Joshua Reynolds delivered hie last lecture at the Royal Academy. . . . Sir Joshua concluded the lecture by saying, with great emotion, " And I should desire that the last words which I should pro. nounce in this academy and from this place might he the name of—Michael Angelo." As he descended from the rostrum, Burke went up to him, took his hand, and said, The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear Si) charming left his voice, that he a while Thought him still speaking, still stood fill to hear. The following we have heard before : Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton) was " stating the law " to a jury at Guildhall, when Lord Mansfield inter. rupted him by saving, " If that be law, I'll go home and burn my books."—" My lord," replied Dunning, "you had better go home and read them." The editor supplies one of the best para graphs in the book : Miss Lydia White (long since dead) was a lady who delighted in giving parties to as many celebrated people as she cauld collect. The following instance of her readiness in reply was communicated to me by my friend the Rev. W. Harness. "At one of Lydia White's small and most agreeable dinners in Fark•street. the company (most of them, except the hostess, being Whip) were discussing in rather a querulous strain the despetate prospects of their party. ' Yes,' said Sydney Smith, 'we are in a most deplo rable condition : we must do something to help ourselves ; I think we had better sacrifice a Tory virgin.' This was pointedly addressed to Lydia White, who, at once catching and applying the allusion to Iphigenia, answered, I believe there is nothing the Whigs would not do to raise the wind.'" The next paragraphs seem genuine : Bt.rke said to Mrs. Crewe: " A dull proser is more en durable than a dull joker." Gibbon took very little exercise. He had been staying some time with Lord Sheffield in the country ; and when he was about to go away, the servants could not find his hat. " Bless me," said Gibbon, " I certainly left it in the hall on my arrival here." He had not stirred out of doors during the whole of the visit. Witticisms are often attributed to the wrong people. It was Lord Chesterfield, not Sheridan, who said, on occasion of a certain marriage, that " Nobody's son had married Everybody's daughter." Lord Ellenborough was once about to go on the circuit, when Lady E. said that she should like to accompany him. He replied that he had no objections, provided she did not encumber the carriage with bandboxes, which were his utter abhorrence. They set off. During the first (Joy's journey, Lord Ellenborough, happening to stretch his legs, struck his feet against something below the seat. He dis covered that it was a bandbox. His indignation is not to be described. Up went the window, and out went the bandbox. The coachman stopped • and the footmen , thinking that the bandbox had tumbled out of the window by some extraordinary chance, were going to pick it up : when Lord Ellenborough furiously called out, "Daive on! The bandbox accordingly was left by a ditch-side. Having reached the county-town where he was to officiate as judge, L krd Ellenbomngli proceeded to array himself for his appearance in the court-house. " Now; said be, " where's my wig —where is my wig ?" " 3ly lord," replied , hi , attendant, " it was thrown out of the carriage-window.