The Sun.
London, England, 1839-09-02 00:00:00

MAGAZINE-DAY.

.• BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE..
The " Chartis:s and Universal Suffraats"
.s
±d, as usual, in the exaoarerated
sp Tory
-t,
.rat peculiar to ti,is periodical. The writer, who
Is a most prom:s:..g alarmist,
of. a horror, !ircecy with a fine conception
broadly intfroates his belief that
thi s benightJd coeatr-y will ere long fall a victim to
a convuls;on. N,,miiar to that which fifty years
ago •sPrf ad dese,;,.tion arid misery through the
luhc).te .afjrr: Tb•is is awful, it must be con-
resse,..; b,t jet << the
p' ophecy is ensive public" take heart
ab'iyanl as absurd as one of Mur-
-141)N meteorolog'
wilt cat ones. National tranquillity
still be pre
4e, red, and national improvement
proc cut at a
ningham Fsale, gradual pace, even though a
ti vintners house may be gutted, and
beneath is forint,
thrown into the street, and trampled
ftellic . "the hoofs of an uneasy mob. In the in-
jence and orderly disposition of our middle
P.ases, we hare a secure breakwater against the
inroads of mobocracy on the one hand, and aristo-
cracy on the other. Yet the writer professes to have
littla or no faith in the vigilance and energy of these
classes, and observes, in a perfect paroxysm of
apprehension—
" Must we always wait till cities are burned, and
streets given up to pillage, befa-4-e any defensive mea-
sures are adopted by the new governors of the State ?
1)5 coming events never cast their shadows before to
the dominant s',opocracv of the empire ; and will the
new co-vernord of the State never adopt any defensive
or viv,orou4 step till their doors are forced open by a
Chr`rtist mob, their houses in flames by Chartist
torches, or their beer•barrels emptied by Chartist
la'°"tlas ? Doubtksi.., when a Radical finds a Chartist
B'r:flowing copious libations out of his butts, the ob-
:cructions of error are quickly swept away from his own
laind ; when he sees his property pillaged by Chartist
Lands, he gets n clear insight into the distinction be-
twixt nicztin and ; and when the darkness is il-
utuinate,l by toe flames of his burning property,
she shads of p.,!itical delusion are rapidly dispelled.
Ilut are we to rest in the miserable and degrading con-
;elusion, that .1-,,,_e deplorable catastrophes must ensue
=before the midi le classes can be roused to a sense eitl'..,r
of their duties or t heir danger ? Is the book of "pc_
irienee entirely lost, upon them ; and is there no wayof
!making the',`ciiseio.rge their duties as y',.cymen, or sup-
port the coverninent as politicians, 'out by bringing the
horrors of Civil tear home to th.dir 'doors ? Is that the
i;e?"11, olten. years' •.pprenticeship to self-government ?
• r tidat the core,,quence of the extension of the suf.
;age. 'and ttlf. ditrusion of political information to all
classes of aociety It these are the consequences of
amelioratou, if these are the first fruits of
we can only say that they exceed in bitterness
lny which the Teries ever predicted ; and that the
ibßuel Pirnaouneed unon the middle classes by Lord John
cradle, as his excuse for not stifling sedition in its
exceeds ally, that was ever launched against
them by the'.r bitterest political opponent."
tThis:- bvpothe.i's is grounded on the assumption
t‘l4,t'
our middle classes constitute a vast body of
uni zavened idiotcv ; that they have no 'shrewdness—
foresight—no power of disceriting the sig,lis of
th-e times—and, above all, no strong, unTrring
sense of their own persc,nal interests. Was ever
political argument vet based on such a shallow
foundation ? lit order to give it the slightest
weight, the writet is actually compelled to take for
granted that the `vast mass of the people are sheer
%üb:leets for an Inquisition de Lunatico
teanuirr.ndo ! Now it happens that this calumnia-
_ ;AA
n4"le class has, from the time of Henry the
B""lt'at who first called it into substantial exist-
ence., down to the present Reform era, been the
great bulwark—tile Palladium—of our national li-
/Yaties. In the days of Chatham, who rightly ap-
Preeia.ed its influence, it kept that great man in
Power, r.gainst the will of the Throne and the aris-
toaracyl ‘leeg,ued together to destroy him ; and in
the raemorable s ear 1832, it carried the Reform
Bt
11, notwithstanding the incessant covert and open
opposition of the House of Lords. To the existence
of a middle class, we owe it that we have escaped
convulsions that fifty years ago shook all the
kingdoms of the Continent to the centre ; that the
barricade system is not yet naturalized among
us ; that conscriptions, Imperial Ukases, andr
such 1::ke luxuries, excite only our scorn and
wond'ir ; and that, year by year, despite the
ctrotts of a small, interested faction, we have
trade, and still continue to make, certain pro-
ress in political freedom, and in every art and
§r;ience that tends to refine, elevate and en-
.tighten huntani!Y. " Royal Academy and its
Exhibition" fief:l'll(ls this Institution from the at-
tacks of its opponents, who are daily increasing in
numbers and virulence. The defence is more re-
l''atitr,nle for its z.•al than its success. The criti-
c,,, l
Isrr.s on the i:etures are acute and impartial.
11',c writer speaks of Turner's eccentricities in a
last spirit of animadversion ; for who that has the
:slightest judoment but must be disgusted with many
of the brilliant quackeries of this showy colourist ?
'Turner has both fancy and feeling ; but these are
not enough for him, and therefore he superadd s
gr°tesque exaggeration, as if to startle were to con-
t.;'"ce the sneeta!or's understanding. In " French
Literature 'of the Eighteenth Century', there are
seve'..al sound remarks on Voltaire's dramatic works,
.aidhis criticisms on Shakspeare and Milton.
"'"'n an extract, however, made by the write', we
are satisfied that Voltaire was incapable of comp,re-
bending the true character of " Paradise Lost,' or
he would not have talked about " the majestic traits
with which Milton has dared to delineate God."
All this portion of his poem is an acknowledged
failure. His Divinity —with reverence be it spoken
----is little better than a twaddler justifying Pope's
sarcasm that " God, the Father, turns a school
divine." The " Cossacks" is a delightful little
historiette. " Song Writing," takes Moore
for its theme, and comments on his Irish and Na-
tional Melodies in proper terms of qualified appro-
bation. We agree with the critic, whose good
sense and perspicacity are remarkable, that Moore
is constairly sulistituting conceit for feeling. The
stern, impassioned sensibilities of oppressed Ireland
are but feebly shadowed forth in his polished, draw-
ing-room lvrics, which, though they may draw forth
a pensive sigh, will never stir the heart like a trum-
Pet. Sung in a lady's boudoir, to the soft music
of a piano, tlicsv are unrivalled ; sung on a wild
heath, or in a soldier's tent the night before a bat-
tle, they would produce little or no effect. How
different the case with Burns' simple, energetic,
nnornamented Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled !"
Moore's most successful poems are his festive and
satirical ones. The humourous squibs which he
contributed scan years since to the Times, are the
happiest things of the sort in the language—spark-
ling, buoyant, and irresistible in their tone of arch
banter and raTerv. The " Bellmanship" is an
excellent comic s'ory ; and the " Life and Times of
Henry Grattan" replete with gossip and anecdote.