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pride is stately consumption of liberty but from a desire to wealth produced by others.” shift responsibility and to take You can imagine the thrill of the easy path. The future of rage which ran through the our Empire depends upon the hearts of the “poor,” thus reckless belief that the opinion easily played upon by Mr of a thousand fools is better Lloyd-George. But the "poor” than the opinion of one wise have votes, and there is nothing man. And for this

very like an extravagant sentiment reason demagogues should be ality to catch votes. Mr Lloyd- more scrupulously careful to George remembers what was weigh their words. Too often, done at the last election by when their position proclaims fanciful pictures of knouted them leaders, they decline the Chinamen. Alas for his pur- leadership. They prefer to pose! The knouted Chinamen follow where the rabble is have returned to their own thickest and noisiest. If the country laden with spoils, and rabble demands the property the grotesque picture of a hard, of others as the price of its grasping landlord, a Duke if votes, they promise it with an possible, will take their place. easy generosity. But we have

It is bad enough that men no cause for despair. There are content to govern the were Lloyd - Georges before country on these terms, that Lloyd-George, and they have for the sake of place they will gone, one and all, into the thus forget the common obliga- night of forgetfulness. He tions of life. It is far worse differs from his predecessors that they should use the weight only in that his seat on the and dignity which high office Treasury Bench has helped to gives them in the popular mind lower the prestige of Parliato inflame class - hatred and mentary government. Sixty greed. If Mr Lloyd - George years ago Dean Mansel put the could look higher than Down- Limehouse speech into fluent ing Street, he might reflect versethat even the Chancellorship of the Exchequer was not

“Theft, my friends? The gods have

pity on your weak and watery worth winning at the expense of brain! revolution. Now, if revolution How can they who own the total steal were possible in England, Mr

the portion? Pray explain. Lloyd-George's speeches would

Men in nature's state are equal : pro

perty, conferred by laws, be artfully contrived to promote From the sanction of the people all its it, and when it came he might rights and safeguards drawe. be the first to lose his head in You but hold it at their pleasure, you the storm which his idle words

must yield it at their summons: could raise and his idle hand

And the pleasure of the people, seek it

in the House of Commons." could not control. Of all forms of government, democracy is What Dean Mansel wrote by far the most dangerous, the in contempt no longer ego most palpably illogical. It than 1850, Mr Lloyd - George springs not from å love of repeats to-day in pompous




And the very recur- nel in a monoplane. It was a rence of these noxious prin- gallant feat, and it is no ciples is our best hope that wonder that it touched the they will never be put into universal imagination. There practice. Nonetheless, an was no one who did not apinfinite deal of harm has been plaud the courage, the skill, done. The flame of envy and and the persistence of M. malice has been fanned. And Blériot, who had travelled from for what? That Mr Lloyd - France to England at a pace George, who brags that he is which defied all creatures save

one of the children of the a light-winged bird. What people”—a piece of snobbish- did the ardent Socialist think ness which was greeted with of it? With an excitement a shout of “Bravo, David !” which seemed wholly inappos-should for another term of ite, Mr H. G. Wells saw years misdirect the affairs of the triumph of M. Blériot the England.

disgrace of England.

Now, There can be no doubt, how- cannot think that Mr ever, that in the Radical's Wells was moved to despair view the landlord is capable by an overwhelming sense of of every atrocity. He cannot, patriotism. We fear that if he would, appease his critics.

there was

more than a spice If he show energy in his of satisfaction in his vehecountry's service, he is held ment denunciation. M. Blé. guilty of impertinence. If he riot has crossed the Channel, be charitably disposed, he is he said in effect,—what then caught red-handed in a baleful will happen to our Navy? attempt to pay ransom. Mr “Is the Navy bright?” M. Masterman protests that he Blériot has crossed the Chanruins the countryside with his nel, and who can help asking, motor-cars. Mr H. G. Wells, “Are

awakening on the other hand, complains people ?” M. Blériot hag that the motor-car was worked crossed the Channel, and there on the other side of the Chan- is not a soul in England who nel, "while in this country the can speak French or knows & mechanically - propelled road single word of German. We vehicle, lest it should frighten might as well say that Lieuthe horses of the gentry, was tenant Shackleton has been to going meticulously at four miles the South Pole, and Russia and an hour behind a man with a Turkey are in ashes. red flag." Clearly, then, it pose we inverted the argument, is the fault of “the gentry " and insist that, because M. that everything goes wrong. Blériot has crossed the ChanThe sentimental politician, in- nel, therefore the French Navy deed, does not perplex himself is “bright,” the Parisians ail with facts, or with the ordinary speak English, and German is processes of reason, A month taught with success in every ago an intrepid Frenchman, school in France. Does Mr M. Blériot, crossed the Chan- Wells believe this? And if he



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does not, why does he thrust does not conform to his own upon England the hasty gen- rigid standard, and, again eralisations with which he has like Mr Masterman, he will no wish to burden France ? not take the trouble to study And why does he assert that the foreign countries which because M. Blériot has crossed M. Blériot's feat has conthe Channel the Frenchman's vinced him

our supeschools are places of vigor- riors. For our part, were we ous education? He could not minded to make one of those write thus if he had ever generalisations which to-day seen a French Lycée or exam- pass for sober, reasoned truth, ined its sad curriculum and its we should say that a Bure sadder pastimes. And then, sign of England's decadence is that nothing of prejudice may the reluctance of her intellectbe lacking, he confuses with ual teachers, such as Messrs M. Blériot's success the un- Masterman and Wells, to study censored plays of France and the rudiments of the subjects the foreign novels which are which they discuss or to learn not “kindly, sedative pap."


a few elementary lessons conThe truth is that Mr Wells, cerning the foreign countries like Mr Masterman, is filled with which to her detriment with vague displeasure they are eager to compare their against England because it unfortunate native land.



THE death of Sir Theodore Martin, which 'Maga 'regrets to record, sovers one of the world's few remaining links with a distant past. Born a year after Waterloo, he grew up in the midst of a romantio movement which influenced his taste and dictated his preferences. In his childhood he had seen Scott; Thackeray was his oontemporary; Froude was his friend; all the great personages of the Victorian era passed before him ; and as he retained his marvellous zost for life, his keen interest in affairs, until the end, he understood, if he did not approve, the desires and aspirations of the rising generations. Such an age as his, “ frosty but kindly,” has no drawbacks. He never lost the youthfulness of spirit which delights in thought and work and talk. Those who were privileged to know him will not easily forget his quick enthusiasms, his just indignations. If there was much in this present age that he condemned, he condemned it as a contemporary, not as a stranger looking upon the world from the high tableland of another age. In brief, he kept his sympathies ever fresh, and it was his good fortune to lay down the burden of life before it became too irksome to be borne.

In a Preface written in 1903 for the ‘Bon Gaultier Ballads,' he declared that of his long and very crowded life literature had ocoupied the smallest part. If it were the smallest part, it was also the intensest, and it is the man of letters in Sir Theodore Martin, not the able and industrious lawyer, that will survive in our minds and memories. He was wise enough at the outset of his career to make law his support and literature his recreation, and we read what he wrote with the greater pleasure, because we feel the author's own pleasure in the composition of every line. It was to Edinburgh that he owed his birth and education, and he was already thirty when he went to try his fortune in London. There he threw himself into the practice of his two professions with the energy and power of work which remained with him all his life. A paper of his writing in * Fraser's Magazine,' which bore the admirable title of “Flowers of Hemp; or, the Newgate Garland. By one of the Family," had-in 1841– won him the friendship of Aytoun, already familiar to all readers of 'Blackwood's Magazine,' and thus, to oite Sir Theodore's own words, "a kind of Beaumont and Fletcher partnership was formed, which commenced in a series of humorous papers that were published in Tait's' and 'Fraser's ' Magazines


in the years 1842, 1843, and 1844.” These papers, collected together as the 'Bon Gaultier Ballads,' achieved a success of popularity of which their authors had never dreamed. And they deserved abundantly all the success which was theirs. A gayer, livelier set of parodies does not exist. They stand the sternest test - comparison with "Rejected Addresses.' The secret of the collaboration remains uppierced. We can do no more than give an equal share of praise to each, and congratulate ourselves that two wits of close sympathy and quick understanding were there to pay Lookhart and Macaulay, Tennyson and Mrs Browning, Moore and Leigh Hunt the supreme tribute of parody. For the next twenty years Theodore Martin published little else than verse translations. He sought his originals in German, Latin, and Italian. He attempted those enterprises which have always been deemed impossible, and he attempted them with a high courage that often baffled failure. As we have said, he grew up in the heyday of Romance, and it was but natural that he and Aytoun should play their part in the literary revolution by turning into English the poems and ballads of Goethe. The uniformity of style discernible in these admirable versions makes it difficult to believe that they were not all the work of one hand. But as Sir Theodore has told us, 'from a habit of working together we naturally caught each something of the other's manner. How far this went may be seen from a passage in a letter of Aytoun's when revising the proof-sheets of our volume in 1858: 'In going over the poems I was very much struck by the occasional resemblance of our styles. There is one of yours, “To my Mistress," which I could almost have sworn to be mine, from the peculiarity of the cadences, if I did not know it to be yours. What was doubtful to the authors is doubly doubtful to us, and we would defy the most sensitive reader to separate the work of the two collaborators. But the composition was a delight, as we know from a youthful Preface written two years ago by Sir Theodore. “We worked together,” he wrote, “in the days when 'life was all before us,' by Salisbury Crags or on the shores of the Firth of Forth." And the authors took a proper pride in the result. “We may hang out our shields," said Aytoun, “as at Ashby-dela-Zouch, and without any fear await the coming of challengers who shall contrast their performances with ours.”

To-day Romance is no more in fashion, and the captive earls, and the false lovers, and the maids of honour of Goethe's ballads seem like oreatures who have been beguiled by their translators from another planet. A work of more solidly enduring merit is

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