Полная версияThe Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 576, November 17, 1832
[Much has been said of late years respecting the degeneracy of a very useful and generally respectable class of persons, termed "gentlemen's servants;" and the unjustifiable practices of tradesmen towards people of fashion. As is usual in hasty judgments, the many have been stigmatized with the vices of the few: the misconduct of reckless servants has been held forth as bespeaking the habits of the whole class, and the misdealing cupidity of a few purveyors of fashionable luxuries has been set down as the almost uniform rule of conduct of the worthiest classes in the empire. Such has been the exaggeration of a certain description of evils and abuses, which appertain rather to the manners and customs of fashionable life than to the sphere of the useful or industrious classes; and in support of this position of ours, we may be allowed to quote the following pertinent observations from no less aristocratic authority than the Quarterly Review. They occur in a notice of a few of the most recent novels of fashionable life; in which the writer argues that there remains to be produced a much more useful class of novels than has yet emanated from the silver fork school. The immediate objects of the present remarks are, however, to show that the artificial or even dissipated habits of servants and the bareweight honesty of tradesmen, are brought about by the corrupt manners of persons of fortune, who believe themselves to be the only sufferers by such evil courses.]
Society is so infinitely intersected and convolved,
"Cycle and epi-cycle, orb in orb,"
that observers who should be endowed with a sufficient portion of perspicacity, might no doubt trace the consequences of the vices and virtues prevailing in any section of it, through the entire social chain. But, hitherto, those who have undertaken to describe the ways of fashionable life, have not followed it even to its more direct and contiguous relations with other classes of mankind. This is a defect which it might be worth the while of any duly qualified writer to supply. It might be well, for instance, if any such writer would so far extend the sphere of his contemplations, as to observe and exhibit the effects of fashionable manners and customs upon the class of servants, and the class of tradesmen.
Under the former head, there may be found, perhaps, little to find fault with on the score of mere manner and outward demeanour. To use servants with harshness, or to be wanting in that species of consideration for them which consists in a certain mildness and amenity of manner, would ruffle and deform that smooth surface of things which it is agreeable to the taste of people in high life to see around them. Nor do they, perhaps, interfere with the comfort of their dependents, by any undue or onerous exactions of service; for their establishments, being for the most part calculated for show, are more numerous than is required for use, and are therefore necessarily underworked, except, perhaps, in the case of some poor drudges at the bottom, who slink up and down the back stairs unseen, and whose comfort, therefore, does not engage the attention of a family of this class; and even these will not be oppressed with their labours, unless when some impoverished people of fashion may find it necessary to dock the tails of their establishments in order to keep the more prominent portions entire. Nevertheless the exceptions which may be taken against fashionable life, as affecting the class of servants, are of a very grave description. Late hours and habits of dissipation in the heads of a family make it almost impossible, especially in London, to exercise that wholesome household discipline which is requisite to secure the well-being of a servant. Luxury and ostentation require that the servants of these people should be numerous; their number unavoidably makes them idle; idleness makes them debauched; debauchery renders them often necessitous; the affluence or the prodigality, the indolence or indulgence; or indifference of their masters, affords them every possible facility for being dishonest; and, beginning with the more venial kinds of peculation, their conscience has an opportunity of making an easy descent through the various gradations of larceny, till the misdemeanant passes into the felon. In the meantime, the master, taking no blame to himself, nor considering that servants are for the most part what their masters make them, that they are the creatures, at least, of those circumstances which their masters throw around them, and might be moulded in the generality of cases, with almost certain effect, by the will and conduct of the master—passes over, with an indolent and epicurean censure, the lighter delinquencies which he may happen to detect, laughs perhaps at his own laxity, and, when at length alarmed, discharges the culprit without a character, and relieves himself, at the expense of he knows not whom, by making of a corrupted menial a desperate outcast. If it be said that a man cannot be expected to change his mode of life for the sake of his servants, it might be answered, that any mode of life by which each individual indulging in it hazards the perdition of several of his fellow-creatures, ought to be changed, and cannot be persevered in without guilt. But even if no such sacrifice were insisted upon, there remain means by which the evil might be mitigated.
In the first place, the adherence to honesty on the part of the masters might be exemplary; whereas their actual measure of honesty would perhaps be indicated with sufficient indulgence, if they were described (in the qualified language which Hamlet applies to himself) to be "indifferent honest." There is a currency of untruth in daily use amongst fashionable people for purposes of convenience, which proceeds to a much bolder extent than the social euphemisms by which those of the middle classes also, not perhaps without some occasional violation of their more tender consciences, intimate a wish to be excused from receiving a guest. Fashionable people, moreover, are the most unscrupulous smugglers and buyers of smuggled goods, and have less difficulty than others and less shame, in making various illicit inroads upon the public property and revenue. It is not to be denied that these practices are, in point of fact, a species of lying and cheating; and the latter of them bears a close analogy to the sort of depredation in which the dishonesty of a servant commonly commences. To a servant it must seem quite as venial an offence to trench upon the revenues of a duke, as to the duke it may seem to defraud the revenues of a kingdom. Such proceedings, if not absolutely to be branded as dishonest, are not at least altogether honourable; they are such as may be more easily excused in a menial than in a gentleman. Nor can it ever be otherwise than of evil example to make truth and honesty matters of degree.
But there is a worse evil in the manners of this country in regard to servants. It is rarely that they are considered in any other light than as mechanical instruments. It unfortunately belongs very little to our national character to feel what the common brotherhood of humanity requires of us in a relation with our fellow-creatures, which however unequal, is so close as that of master and servant. We are not accustomed to be sensible that it is any part of our duty to enter into their feelings, to understand their dispositions, to acquire their confidence, to cultivate their sympathies and our own upon some common ground which kindness might always discover, and to communicate with them habitually and unreservedly upon the topics which touch upon that ground. This deficiency would perhaps be more observable in the middle classes than in the highest, who seem generally to treat their inferiors with less reserve, but that in the latter the scale of establishment often removes the greater part of a man's servants from personal communication with him. Whether most prevalent in the fashionable or in the unfashionable classes, it is an evil which, in the growing disunion of the several grades of society is now more than ever, and for more reasons than one, to be regretted.
(To be concluded in our next.)
THE SCHOOLMASTER'S EXPERIENCE IN NEWGATE
(From Fraser's Magazine.)Although in the present day, notwithstanding the severity of the laws, the different modes of committing crime are almost endless, the principal actors in criminality may be classed under the following heads:—
Classification of Rogues.
The whole of these are carried on by confederacies of small parties, and at other times by gangs, when their operations become more extensive. The forger and the highwayman are exceptions; the latter offence is generally committed by one or more, in a fit of need and state of desperation, without any system or plan for carrying on the practice; and it may be affirmed, that, in almost every case of this nature, the criminal never committed the like offence before. There have been some few instances of five or six individuals associating for the purposes of committing forgeries, but the cases are rare.
Boy Burglars.
I can name several boys now in custody, who have been actors in some of the most complicated schemes of burglary, and from whom much on this head might be elicited. One in particular, who began his career by robbing a gentleman in Mark Lane of plate to a considerable amount; and as it shows one method of committing a robbery, I will relate how it was accomplished. The boy was under sentence of death when I got the history of his life from him, he having been nine years in the successful commission of crime; and although nearly eighteen years of age, his appearance gave him credit for only being fourteen. Whilst in custody, his constant theme of regret was that he had left the parties in whose services he had been so long and securely employed, to join some of his own age, embarking in business for themselves; by which he was "nicked" (taken up). He was an orphan, and had been brought up in the poor-house, whence he was apprenticed to a sweep in the city. He was a remarkably sharp boy, which no doubt was noticed by those who are always on the lookout for agents to aid them in their schemes. He was met one morning early, with the soot-bag on his back, by a man who pretended to be his uncle, and who gave him a half-crown piece, making another appointment for a meeting; the result of which was, before he had served sixteen months of his time he had given information by which fifteen robberies had been committed. He, of course, had been paid for his services, which soon made him disgusted with the sooty business; and he made an agreement with the man who drew him into crime, to leave his master's service, and to commit with him a robbery on their private account before he left. The house fixed on was the one above alluded to in Mark Lane. The premises had before been surveyed, and deemed impregnable; that is to say, was considered too well guarded to be robbed without detection. They, however, got possession of the plate in the following manner:—The boy was a favourite with the cook of the house, and she would have no other to sweep her kitchen-chimney; a matter of business which was performed the last Saturday in every month. It was concerted between the man and the boy, that the former should dress himself in the character of a sweep, and accompany the latter as his over-looker, or assistant. The real sweep-over-looker, of course, must be kept out of the way; and here laid all their difficulty. It cost the boy (to use his own expression) six months' longer punishment as a sweep, and the man six appearances, at an early hour of the morning, in the same character, before the object could be carried, namely, to get rid of the real sweep.
At length, one Saturday, by pretending to forget the job until all the men were gone out about other work, the boy, affecting suddenly to recollect it, persuaded the master to let him go alone, saying he himself could perform the duty. It was five o'clock in the morning when he and the disguised robber reached the house; the cook opened the door, having nothing on save a blanket thrown over her shoulders. The arch young rogue said, "It's only me and Harry; it's a very cold morning; if you like to go to bed again, cookey, we will do it well, and leave all clean, and shut the door fast after us." She went to bed, and they went to the plate depository, which had been well noted oft times before. They put the whole of its contents into the soot-bag, and fearlessly walked through the streets with it on their backs. The boy, a few hours afterwards, was so metamorphosed, being dressed in the smartest manner, with cane in hand and fifty pounds in his pocket, that he walked the streets in full confidence that not even his master or his fellow-apprentices would know him.
Pickpockets.
The qualifications for a pickpocket are a light tread, a delicate sense of touch, combined with firm nerves. These boys may be known by their shoes in the street; they generally wear pumps, or shoes of a very light make, having long quarters. There is about their countenance an affected determination of purpose, and they walk forward, as if bent on some object of business: it is a rule with them never to stop in the street. When they want to confer for a moment they drop into some by-court or alley, where they will fix on an object of attack, as the people pass down a main street; when they start off in the same manner, the boy going first, to do what they call "stunning," that is to pick the pocket. The first rate hands never, on any occasion, loiter in the streets, unless at a procession or any exhibition, when there is an excuse for so doing. Many have a notion that instruments are used in disencumbering the pockets: this is a false idea; the only instrument they use is a good pair of small scissors, and which will always be found on the person of a pickpocket when searched; these they use to cut the pocket and all off, when they cannot abstract its contents.
To these qualifications they unite a quick sight, and a tact of observing when the attention is engaged, or of devising some means to engage it themselves, until the act is done. They are most busy in foggy weather. When in prison, they will be heard to say on such days, "What a shame to lose such a fine day as this!" On great public days, when the streets are expected to be crowded, and much business is anticipated, several parties of them will unite for the day, under special contract, either to divide all gains between them, or for each one to retain what he gets, agreeing, under every circumstance, to mutually assist each other in the bustle of the crowd. The wary and superior pickpocket, however, seldom runs this risk, but steadily pursues his course, surveying every day the objects around him, and sending off his emissaries to fetch in the plunder, or, by detection, to be handed off to prison. Pickpockets are the least faithful to each other of all known rogues, and are the most difficult of all biped animals to tame, or make any thing of in the way of improvement when caught.
NEW BOOKS
THE JUVENILE FORGET-ME-NOT FOR 1833
(Edited by Mrs. S.C. Hall.)This is a delightful little book for the improvement of the mind and heart, as well as for the amusement, of young persons. It is full of prose and poetic story, pretty incident and anecdote—all which convey some useful moral, and point to some really good end and purpose. It is still a book for the play-room, notwithstanding it treats of botany and zoology. Travelling on the Ice, by Dr. Walsh, explains "what put it into Captain Parry's head to go to the North Pole;" the Poet's Invitation, by Allan Cunningham, is sweet and simple; the Shamrock, by L.E.L., consists of some clever lines, accompanying a portrait of two fairy sisters and a little laughing brother—
The image of a happy childDoth link itself with allThat natural loveliness, which leastReminds us of our fall.Somewhat of angel purity,Somewhat of angel grace,Ere longer years bring shade and toil.Are on a childish face.My Dog Quail contains some amusing anecdotes by the late Dr. Walsh; and in the Settlers, a dialogue, by Miss Leslie, of Philadelphia, are a few touching points of distinction between savage and civilized life; the Indian Island, by L.E.L., is more of a story; a Walk in a Flower Garden is from the accomplished pen of Mrs. Loudon, explaining to two juvenile inquirers the origin of the names and properties of certain plants; a Girl's Farewell to the River Lee, by Charles Swain, is plaintively interesting; Seven and Seventeen, by Mrs. S.C. Hall, is clever and lively, and full of home truth; the Sailor's Wife is a pensive ballad-tale of the sea, by M. Howitt, and likely to linger on the mind of childhood; the First Weavers, by the Rev. C. Williams, is as ingenious in its way as Professor Rennie's Bird or Insect Architecture: it enumerates many interesting processes of weaving by insects and birds, who, unlike human artificers, pursue their tasks in the untainted atmosphere of nature;—there are also two or three pretty playful prose sketches, and some clever lines by Miss Leslie, of Philadelphia, on C.R. Leslie's picture of Lady Jane Grey's reluctance to accept the crown of England. We quote the concluding lines, by L.E.L., to accompany the frontispiece:—
THE ROSE OF EDEN-DALE AND HER HOT-HOUSE FLOWERSThey were so beautiful this morn—The lily's graceful wandHung with small bells, as delicateAs from a fairy's hand.The Indian rose, so softly red,As if in coming hereIt lost the radiance of the south,And caught a shade of fear.The white geranium vein'd with pink,Like that within the shellWhere, on a bed of their own hues,The pearls of ocean dwell.But where is now the snowy white,And where the tender red?How heavy over each dry stalkDroops every languid head!They are not worth my keeping now—She flung them on the ground—Some strewed the earth, and some the windWent scattering idly round.She then thought of those flowers no more,But oft, in after years,When the young cheek was somewhat pale,And the eyes dim with tears—Then she recalled the faded wreathOf other happier hours,And felt life's hope and joy had beenBut only Hot-house Flowers!The Engravings, ten in number, with an inscription plate and vignette, are above the usual calibre of the "juvenile" embellishments: they are better than mere pictures for children, and the chosen subjects harmonize with the benevolent tone and temper of the letter-press; all of them will tend to cherish kindly feelings in the hearts of the little readers. Among the best of the prints are Going to the Well, from Gainsborough; and the Industrious Young Cottager—a contented girl at work, with a bird in an opened cage beside her: the little scene is one of happy un-imprisonment and cheerful task.
THE GATHERER
SIR WALTER SCOTT
[In one of the recent prize essays of the Highland Society of Scotland, the Ettrick Shepherd writes thus of his distinguished contemporary. The general subject of the Essay is the statistics of Selkirkshire: after referring to Sir Walter as sheriff of Ettrick Forest for thirty years, Mr. Hogg observes:]
To speak of Sir Walter Scott as a literary man, would be the height of absurdity in a statistical writer. In that light he is known and duly appreciated over the whole world, wherever letters have found their way. But I shall say, that those who know him only by the few hundreds of volumes that he has published, know only the one half of the man, and that not the best half neither. As a friend, he is steady, candid, and sincere, expressing his sentiments freely, whether favourable or the reverse. He is no man's enemy, though he may be to his principles; and I believe that he never in his life tried to do an individual hurt. His impartiality as a judge is so well known, that no man, either rich or poor, ever attempts to move him from the right onward path. If he have a feeling of partiality in his whole disposition, it is for the poachers and fishers, at least I know that they all think that he has a fellow-feeling with them,—that he has a little of the old outlaw blood in him, and, if he had been able, would have been a desperate poacher and black-fisher. Indeed, it has been reported that when he was young he sometimes "leistered a kipper, and made a shift to shoot a moorfowl i' the drift." He was uncommonly well made. I never saw a limb, loins, and shoulders so framed for immoderate strength. And, as Tom Purdie observed, "Faith, an he hadna' been crippled he wud ha'e been an unlucky chap."
*** "An Old Friend of the late Mr. Terry" has requested us to insert the following correction: "In our notices respecting Sir Walter Scott, (see Mirror, No. 571, p. 254,) we stated that Mrs. Terry had in her possession a tragedy written by Sir Walter for her son W.S. Terry, and intended by the author as a legacy for Walter's first appearance on the stage. We have been since assured that it never was intended by his parents, nor was it ever in the contemplation of his godfather, that Walter Scott Terry should appear at all upon the stage. The youth is in fact at this time a cadet at the Military College, Addiscombe, to which establishment he obtained an appointment through the kind exertions of Sir Walter, who has thus placed young Terry in a situation to distinguish himself in a line of life perfectly according with his own talents and inclinations."
Islington Stages—The stage-coaches to Islington, sixty years ago, were drawn by three horses, on account of the badness of the roads. The inside fare was at that time sixpence each person. H.B. ANDREWS.
Dr. Ken and Nell Gwynne.—When Charles II. went down to Winchester with the Court, the house of Dr. Ken was destined to be the residence of Nell Gwynne. The good little man declared that she should not be under his roof: he was as steady as a rock; and the intelligence was carried to the king, who said, "Well, then, Nell must take lodging in the city." All the Court and divines were shocked at Dr. Ken's strange conduct, saying that he had ruined his fortune, and would never rise in the church. Sometime after, the bishopric of Bath and Wells became vacant: the ministers recommended some learned and pious divines; to whom the king answered, "No, none of them shall have it, I assure you. What is the name of that little man at Winchester, that would not let Nell Gwynne lodge at his house?"—"Dr. Ken, please your majesty."—"Well, he shall have it then; I resolved that he should have the first bishopric that fell, if it had been Canterbury."—Bishop Ken every morning made a vow that he would not marry on that day. Mr. Cherry used frequently, on entering the breakfast-room, to say, "Well, my lord, is the resolution made this morning?"—"Oh, yes, sir, long ago," was the constant reply. M.J.T.
Accession of Territory without Bloodshed.—The Venetians, desirous of possessing the island of Curzola, which belonged to the little republic of Raguza, and was situate in their neighbourhood, made use of a singular stratagem to render themselves masters of it. They erected in one night, on a little rock, which belonged to them, very near Raguza, a card-board fortress, painted of a brick-colour, and armed with wooden cannons. The next day the Ragusans, alarmed at seeing themselves so closely invested, entered into a negotiation with the Venetian State, to which they ceded Curzola, in exchange for this miserable rock, on which there was scarcely room for a moderately sized dwelling. W.N.
Excuses for not Marrying.—Thales, who was ranked among the seven wise men of Greece, declined involving himself by marriage in the cares of a family, that he might devote his whole time and attention to the study of philosophy,—alleging to his mother, who urged him to marry, at an early age, "it is too soon," and at a more advanced period, "it is too late." P.T.W.
Epigram on Sir P–p F–n–s being bit by a cobracappo:—
A serpent bit F– –s, that virulent knight;—What then? 'twas the serpent that died of the bite.Anon.
Latiné.
Dente venenato stimulatur Zoilus Anguis,Quid Tum? vivit adhuc Zoilus, Anguis obit.E.B.I.
Botanical A.B.C.—The A.B.C. Daria is a name given to a plant of the camomile species. The appellation is designed to express the use made of this plant by the black schoolmasters at Amboyna, who cause their young pupils to chew the flowers and roots, either alone or with beetlenut, in order that they may more easily pronounce some of the difficult Arabic letters. It is similar to the Anthemis Pyrethrum, as stimulating the mouth, and is recommended in paralyses of the tongue. P.T.W.