The Press. — London, England, 1857-01-17 00:00:00

JANUARY L 7, 1857. they may so blend in parties as scarcely to render it possible to separate their elements. In England we have found the best remedy for the confusion which their amalgamation would produce in personal and political con nection. When this connection does not pre vail, the best security for good government and for public freedom is lost. Connection, in a thousand shapes, spreads its roots throughout the soil of our social life. It is prestige, it is wealth, it is power. It survives accidents ; it remains firm amid disturbing influences. Without connection, political parties would be so wavering and unstable that not the slightest reliance could be placed on them ; the fluctuating opinions of the day would never suffice to bind men together, and make them consistent either in government or opposition. Sir Robert Peel broke up the political con nection of the Conservative party, but he did not, and could not, break up the principle of party. What he did was to annihilate the labour of his life since the Reform Bill, and restore to the Whigs the ascendancy they had lost. Party was not weakened, but the Mane.? of party was revolutionised. Ho took from the Conservatives that he might give to the Whigs. If any one supposes that the princi ple of party is weakened, let him imagine what a howl would be raised by the present possessors of power and their adherents, if the reins of Government were transferred to Lord Derby's hands. Of connection, as an element of party power, M. Guizot has totally lost sight, and hence his supposition that Sir Robeit Peel had a ground of defence which the statesman himself well knew did not . _ •M. Guizot falls into some mistakes which we should have thought his knowledge of England would have averted. Of George IV. on the question of Emancipation, he writes : At heart he detested Wellington as one man detests another by whom he feels he is despised, and with whom he is nevertheless forced to treat. There we have French theatrical sentiment in place of English truth. The description of Mr Cobden is pure burlesque. Among other things we are told that he was "wealthy and " popular," and that he was distinguished at Manchester for " his honourable character " and industrial success." his general or phi• losophie remarks are, of course, more happy. He says justly in one place : Power goes, by its own inclination, to the men who love it, and sustain it with the greatest ardour. lie forcibly exhibits the evils of that reserve, and to some extent faithlessness, which, whe ther the result of temperament or policy in Sir Robert, were fatal in their results to his party : Thus were exhibited the inconveniences of Sir Robert Peel's character, and of his mode of acting, as a party leader, in a free State. This judicious politican, this skil ful tactician, this consummate financier, this reasoner who hxd so marvellous a knowledge of facts, this orator who was often so eloquent and always so powerful, did not know how to live on intimate terms with his party, to imbue them beforehand with his ideas, to animate them with his spirit, to associate them with his designs as well as with his suc cesses, with the workings of his mind as well as with the chances of his fortune. He was cold, taciturn, and solitary in the midst of his army, and almost equally so in the midst of his staff. It was his maxim that it was better to make concessions to his adversaries than to his friends. The day came when he had to demand great concessions from his friends, not for himself, for he sought none, but for the public interest, which he had warmly at henrz. He found them cold in their turn, not prepared to yield, and strangers to the transformations which he had himself undergone. Be was not in a position to make them share his views, and to bring them to a necessary compromise. Old Sir Robert seems to have formed a just estimate of his son's character : An anecdote which I have from good authority would give reason for believing that he had been long and naturally inclined to the tendency to which he yielded when, after having been a stubborn Conservative, he became an ardent Reformer. It is said that, in 1809, wben he entered the House of Commons. his father, old Sir Robert Peel, went to Lord Liverpool, and said to hint : "My son, you may be sure, is a young man of rare talent. and will one day play an important part; hut I know hint well ; at bottom, his tendencies are Whig ; if we do not immediately enlist him in our ranks, he will escape front us; give him something to do, he will serve you well, but you must make sure of him without delay." Lord Liverpool observed the son, ro• cognised his merit, and follo'ved the father's advice. As a memoir of Sir Robert Peel, the work is wanting in distinctness, but it is an eloquent and discriminative exposition of his character THE PRESS. Modern Mauicheism, Labour's Utopia, and other Poems. London : J. W. Parker and Son. THERE is something of affectation and preten sion in tho tone of this author which does not prepossess us in his favour, awl various opinions are propounded in the course of the poems both at variance with morality and hostile to the pence of society. " Modern Manicheism," as its name imports, is but a reproduction of the old arguments in favour of the dual government of the universe. There is nothing original in the treatment of the question. It all resolves itself into that venerable piece of scepticism, whether that which is perfectly good can generate evil. At this time of day it is useless to argue the point. The great doctors of the Church have said all that is to be said ; and if persons will not believe them, " neither would they believe " though one arose from the dead." " Labour's Utopia" is a pleasing vision, and couched in agreeable verse. In regard to the other poems, we must frankly confess that our mind is not yet fully made up upon their merits. We have seen so many writers commence with great pro• mise, and eventually dwindle to nothing, that we distrust our own judgment in predicting greatness for any one. Yet, unless we are more mistaken than we are willing to believe possible, there are in the poems of "Merlin's Cave," "The Song of the Syrens," Freedom's Hegira," evidences of higher poetic genius than we have detected in any of the thousand volumes of verses which have issued from the press during the last twelve months. It is true that in adopting a metre which ordinary readers associate peculiarly with the Laureate, the present writer has provoked a comparison in which he cannot expect to carry off the palm. But he has done so well that we at once pace him above the rank of a mere imitator. The spirit of Merlin was le.id to sleep in a coffin by a charm which he himself had taught to the " Lady of the Lake," of whom he was enamoured, and who repaid his devotion by this piece of treachery. The fol lowing stanzas will, we think, support our eulogy :-- He looks his past existence through, Whate'er of weal or woe he knew, Nor would he live that life anew. He sees a wear, wayworn train Crowd the old track across the plain, Not would lie puce that path again. He sees, where clouds with mountains blend, Brave youths the steep of Fame ascend : Long since he reached that journey's end. Lovers he sees beneath the shade, Deceived by mutual masquerade ; Ile knows how lovers' vows are paid. The tired enthusiast he sees, Wallowing in self•indulgent ease, Wallowing in wine upon the lees. Nay, but that sight almost may cheer, Since well assured, he need not fear Such depth of self debasement here. And sometimes, too, his stagnant mind Heaves faintly, as by rippling wind A sluggish meet is faintly lined, When, reading omens that portend Evil to man, he fain would send Warning that tempest shocks impend, And gasps for words, but cannot speak, Nor the sepulchral silence break, Save by low whispers, thin and weak, Which reach no ear, or which, if heard, Are heeded not, while, undeterred, The hearer hurries on, unstirred From his imperilled project's bent, Nor till the storm•charged cloud is rent, Recalls some strange presentiment. And then, perhaps, a pitying smile Seems for a moment to beguile 'The wizard's chronic languor, while He hears a high•pitched voice bewail Ephemeral ills, and sharply rail At Fate, whose envious shafts assail The harassed pilgrimage of Life, Through thickets led, with ambush rife, A whole day's length of tedious strife : And he, meantime, in chnrnal gloom, Of subterranean catacomb, Caluly endures millennial doom. As also these lines from " The Song of the Syrens" : All for which thy bosom panteth, AU that flattering fancy flaunteth, All that dazzled hope enchanteth, Pleasure to her votary granteth, Gratiteth here, and offereth thee. Here on robes She reposes, And her bridal chamber dowers. How bath not her message thrilled thee? What, oh dull of heart ! hath chilled thee ? Hither, at her bidding, yield thee ! Hither to her bed of flowers! Again : Why art thou eager to abide, Where, in pale twilight, dusk end stilled, The eye with seeing is not satisfied, The ear with hearing is net filled ? There would thy thirst for wisdom find relief, _ . Labouring to search out things that none can find? Alas ! with wisdom's growth comes growth of grief, And parting ignorance leaves woe behind. And all things come alike to all, — To good and evil one event, — At random curse and blessing fall, As time ordains or accident. Not to the swift belongs the race, Neither the battle to the strong. Folly is set in lofty place. Riches to men unskilled belong. To all alike an equal lot, To foul and pure, to false and true, To him who paps his sacred due, To him who sacrifices not. Chance unto all one rule applies, To all allows an equal claim, In life and after death the same. Whate'er thou (lost will be forgot— Faithless or faithful, fool or wise, E'en as the one the other dies. Sinner and saint together rot. In its hold, spirited, yet melodious versitiea tion, " Freedom's Hegira" reminds us of Mr. Macaulay. The concluding stanzas, in which that gentleman's New Zealander is ingeniously introduced, are very happily turned : With thee her archives shall remain, the tables of her law, The fount whence patriot loyalty its rudiments may draw! To thee from Ocean's farthest shore, through Time's re- moteet stage, Her zealous worshippers shall flock in reverent pil grimage! Or if—for what alas! of earth can 'grape the fated hour? If clouds of gloomier destiny o'er thy dark future lour; If o'er thy empire's yielding pile, destruction's surge shall swell, And thy fair fabric too must fall, as Rome and Athens fell ; Yea !if foreboding seer spoke truth,—if on some distant day A lone New Zealander beside deserted Thames shall stray, And 'mid a wide-spread solitude of heaps and tottering walls, Sit ou its broken bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's,-- Then, though our famed Walhalla's wreck the stranger scarce may know, Though the dispeopled aisles no more their votive statues show, And though no more the yawning crypt heroic ashes hide, And Nelson's dust and Wellington's be scattered far and wide, Yet rising from the hallowed ground, low voices of the dead, And shadowy shapes shall float around, and hover over• . _ head : Still, though her font be overturned, shall Freedom's well- spring flow, Still, though her altar be cast down, her fire shall burn below' The descriptive touches in the following lines are very pretty : From Adria's floating mart she turned, nor lengthened sojourn made, In Genoa's marble palaces, or Arno's olive shade. Nor, northward, in Helvetic tower, built high on craggy steep, Nor where broad, brimming barrier moats round Belgian meadows creep. We shall look with great curiosity for the next production of this author. There is nothing developed in the present volume— nothing which might not be called rather a skilful echo of other men's thoughts than original conceptions. Time will show whether the germ of poetic genius which we think wo see is vigorous enough to grow into a tree. We can only recommend patient thought and study, with a careful distrust of immediate impressions, and constant watchfulness against the tempation to court popularity by a recognition of popular delusions. From this latter fault the volume is by no means free. But we trust that, when the author sees what a signal reversal the opinions he pro nounces on the war have now sustained, it will teach him a little more dilfider be the source of considerable it for the future. 511:11,4411.1 , ..a, a. Duce, and so improvement