"infatuation," considered he had both instructed and delighted his auditors, and sat down in evident self-satisfaction. His mind was a confused one; and he could not get out of the entanglements which his want of precise ideas created. He adopted for the family motto-Tam bene quam benigne; and, when Bentham was very young, he was called on to translate the phrase, the application of which his father considered a most lucky hit, for it was meant to convey a recondite meaning-Tam bene, read backwards, was to designate Ben-tham. The lad neither valued the wit nor preserved the motto, though he once observed to me-" My father's reasons were as good as those which lument to him who suggests them; and all this, as it appeared to the ingenuousness of his youth, coloured the convictions, and perhaps strengthened some of the prejudices of his riper years. Though Bentham's father had the reputation in the city of "a very learned" and a 66 very clever man," that reputation seems rather to have been founded on airs of dignity, and assumptions of superiority, which too often pass current in the world as representations of true wisdom. He had, like his illustrious son, a phraseology of his own. If a person neglected to visit him, he would call the absence "selfsequestration." If a client left him, he shook his head and said "Ah! he has taken himself into his own hands." He had two ways of account-justify nine-tenths of the mottos in use." ing for all conduct which was opposed to his standard. If the party were of such rank as that, without presumption, he might sit in judgment, he called the deed he disapproved of, "infatuation;" but when he was afraid to attribute anything like blame, he always said it was 66 a mystery." And these two words—" infatuation" and "mystery"—were the talismans with which he explained whatever was otherwise unexplain-flowed in one stream of continued happinessable, and dealt out a sort of oracular decision to his hearers. But Bentham did not perceive either wisdom or eloquence in the manner or the matter of his father's law-giving; and he often left the room in silent abashment when his father, after uttering the solemn words "mystery" or Bentham's father had, in truth, not the slightest comprehension of the delicacy and diffidence of his son's nature. He pressed harshly upon all his susceptibilities. In speaking of him at so much length, I have been developing the biography of Bentham himself-unveiling the secrets of his mind, while shewing the difficulties of his position. He whose maturer and later life the most gay and joyous of men-had of his boyhood few recollections of pleasure, except, indeed, when he escaped from his father's influence to some Eden in the country, or some solitude in town. THE ENGLISHMAN'S FIRESIDE. Ir is an inconvenient thing for an indolent fellow like myself, whose inertness is willing to follow the example of the cameleon, and take the colour of the nearest object, to be surrounded by persons extreme in their opinions, or exaggerated in their qualities. I am unfortunate in having two intimate friends of natures so opposite, that, unless I were to vary the tenor of my principles five hundred times a day, it would be impossible to harmonize with their alternate vagaries. Sir Josiah Crabbe (unlike the amiable poet who once rejoiced in the same surname) is a gentleman grievously disposed to look upon the dark side of the things of this world. The spectacles through which he scrutinizes mankind and their doings are of a dingy blue; and his axiom of nil admirari is so absolute, that I doubt whether the word "Good" ever issued, in an approbative sense, from his lips. My friend Joe Ramble, on the other hand, is one of those provokingly good-humoured rattles, whose high spirits put them in conceit with even things that ought to challenge criticism. The eye of poor Joe is neither disposed to gloomily viewing the world through an unnatural medium, nor of that "curious" kind which delights to "note deformity." He has an in NO. LXXIII. VOL, VII. tuitive faculty for walking on the sunny side of the highways and byways of life. Everything seems to smile upon him, or rather he seems to smile upon everything he approaches. He cannot be made to believe that matters, public or private, ever go amiss. The throne, the government, the country-all are unexceptionable. He will not even have the weather abused in his hearing-the weather, that chartered scapegoat of English ill-humour! If the harvest be a bad one, so much the better for the farmers; if a good one, so much the better for the public. When Ireland is reported to be in a state of tranquillity, he thanks God that her prospects are mending; when in a state of rebellion, he is delighted-for what chance of recovering her rights without a little stir? Queen Victoria's accession, he threw up his hat some five feet higher than other people-" A female reign!-a reign rivalling the glories of the days of Queen Bess and Queen Anne," was all that had been wanting to complete the civilization of the kingdom, and the foreign triumphs of the British empire; and now that the Queen's marriage is on the eve of accomplishment, he cannot sufficiently rejoice that the sceptre should be held, partnerwise, by one of the firmer sex. Ramble is, in short, the most contented man C On alive. National, even to bigotry, he is persuaded that England is not only the greatest country in the world, but that, were all other countries in league against her, as against Napoleon, they would be losing their time and trouble: unconquerable, unsubmergeable, she would still remain "Unhurt amid the war of elements, The wreck of inatter, and the crash of worlds." Now, I can encounter these two friends of mine singly, whether as friends or antagonists. By humouring their vagaries, (which, after all, regard only their renown as rational beings,) I keep them on good terms with themselves, and, consequently, with me. But when any unlucky circumstance brings them into collision within the limits of my Diogenic tub, or attic, then comes the tug of war-and such a tug! Crabbe is loud and fractious; Ramble persevering and aggravating; and, as the bleat of a lamb will provoke an irritable dog to keep up his barking, Ramble's slight monosyllables have often the effect of worrying his adversary out of all Christian patience. The other morning, Sir Jos. was sitting with me in one of his ultra-acrimonious dispositions. He had been railing against everything in the material or immaterial world—the affairs of the East, the affairs of the West-the cabinet, the army, the navy, and all other professional and corporate bodies whose healths are drunk at public dinners; and I had tacitly allowed the storm to roar itself dry. Since it pleased him to assert that the times were out of joint, and since I felt unconscious of any power to mend them, I put on a look of sympathy, and was mum. It is incomprehensible to me how people can agitate their minds about the East or the West, so long as matters are going on quietly within the nearest degree of longitude; and when Crabbe inquired, with a grave face, on entering the room, "How matters were going on in Egypt ?" I would fain have answered, (had he not looked so plaguy cross,) that I understood "the pyramids were as well as could be expected." I kept silence, however-yea, even from the foolish words that tempted me-and submitted to be assured that England was on the point of losing her most important alliances; her most valuable colonies; her financial reputation: that Britannia was becoming a lady of anything but unsullied reputation; that America had ceased to visit her, and Europe was cutting her acquaintance and tried to preserve a becoming elongation of countenance, when every minute, like the toll of a funeral-bell, Sir Josiah emitted some new and dolorous announcement. When, lo! just as I was beginning to feel as though a parish pall hung heavy upon my shoulders, in bounced my friend Ramble, his mottled cheeks distended by a smile, and his white teeth glistening like those of a hungry pointer. "Just arrived in England, my dear boy!" cried he;" only three hours landed at the Tower stairs!" And my friend Crabbe (who seemed to resent his intrusion in such towering spirits, as a personal offence) looked as if he longed to inquire whether poor Joe had travelled on the broad grin all the way from France. "Here's comfort!" resumed Ramble, pressing forward towards the fireside the arm-chair in which he ensconced himself, to the utter discomposure of my previous guest. "Here's what enables one to defy winter, death, or the doctors! A good sea-coal fire-a glorious English fireside!" "I have always understood, sir," replied Crabbe-to whom he seemed to be addressing himself for confirmation" that there was nothing more unwholesome on earth than a seacoal fire. To say nothing of the cursed sulphur which turns everything black in the room, (even one's temper ;) to say nothing of the filthy gases emitted, of which, not being a chemist, I am incompetent to speak, (and I wish I were also incompetent to smell,) there can be no doubt innumerable lives are annually sacrificed in England to our mad habit of roasting ourselves half the morning before the bars of a grate, as a preparative for confronting the severity of the most infernal climate on the face of the habitable globe." "Climate, my dear sir!" cried Ramble-" Climate! Don't talk to me about the merit of foreign climates. I've just come from Nice, where I was shrivelled up like a dead leaf with the bise. I spent the spring in Constantinople, where it snowed half the time and rained t'other; and I am now enabled to assert from experience, what I have often heard advanced by travelled men, that England has the best-that is, the most enjoyable climate in the universal world. You are neither scorched and dried up, as in the south, nor mildewed as in the northnor" Crabbe, who had been shrugging his shoulders impatiently for some moments, now burst out with-" There is some difference between being roasted to rags, sir, and not warmed through ! The question of the English climate is sufficiently set at rest by the masses of green fruit one sees piled in our markets, in our streets, at our very tables-an effectual check against undue increase of population. It sets one's teeth on edge to think of it!" "Well, well; so long as our harvests are abundant we may dispense with a few apples and pears," cried Ramble. "And nature has, at least, provided us with the means of bidding defiance to the weather. Look at this admirable fire," cried he, starting up, and placing himself before it, in precisely such an attitude as to prevent our complying with his request. "I look upon an Englishman's hearth as the palladium of national glory; I look upon our firesides as the instigants of our domestic happiness-as the reward of our domestic virtues!" "And I," cried Crabbe, whose temper, albeit the glowing grate was in eclipse, was rising to fever heat-" I look upon an English fireside as the bane of all national prosperity, as the clog upon all national progress; as the screen of our inertness; the pretext for our incapacity; the hot-bed of our selfishness, vulgarity, and pride. The pretended comfort of the fireside is the motive of our closing ourselves up, evening after evening, within our own doors, to the extinction of all social intercourse; and, consequently, to the suppression of all the more expansive impulses of the human soul. While other civilized nations delight in the intercommunication which forwards the interests of the arts, the sciences, the public weal; an Englishman holds it a certificate of merit that, after muddling his brains with heady port, he can potter away his evening over the fire, muddling his affections with the twaddle of his wife and daughters, as they yawn over their carpet work or sewing. What effort does such a man make, sir, to improve their understanding or his own?" "I don't see why he should not make an effort," remonstrated Ramble. "He might read aloud instructive books." "Ay, and put them to sleep before bed-time," interrupted Crabbe, crabbedly. "He might direct the conversation to subjects of popular interest." to produce anything tending more completely to the promotion of human happiness!" Poor Joe now looked so provokingly triumphant, that Sir Josiah could scarcely contain himself. "Ay, ay!" cried he, "If John Bull were to put forth a new reading of the Scriptures, such would be the modern substitute for the Garden of Eden! All this humdrum humbug is the paradise of northern imaginations! Instead of seeking the interchange of mind enjoyable in a large assemblage of rational beings, the Englishman makes it an article of religion to sink himself in inglorious sensuality of this de-spiritualizing description! An Englishman of genius, for instance, must consent to pass for a libertine, unless he will submit to become a mere vulgar voluptuous egotist, (for one need not be the less an egotist because one's hobby is warranted to carry double.) Selfishness may be amplified into a partnership concern; and I look upon what is called the domestic happiness of England, as only a more refined system of double Every country has its customs," argued Ramble, undiscouraged. "The English are not a gregarious people. In Italy, society is held together by the bond of music-an orchestra or a chorus being a pretext for association; but I don't know that either the minds or morals of the Italians are the more indebted to the opera. In France, politics and the theatres tend also to the creation of masses. People meet at cafés to read the newspapers, or seek excitement in the throng of theatres; but, in every instance, my dear sir, this results from the absence of domestic affections, from the want of domestic comforts. The marriage of a foreigner has been the effect of a family engagement, not of preference, not of attachment; and, as to his home, with draughts of air streaming through every door and window, and a couple of smouldering logs substituted for a fine glowing mass of ignited matter that sends warmth into the depths of one's heart, and evokes all the kindlier feelings of humanity, what has it to boast that need detain him from the chattering mob of assem blies, or the false glare of a theatre ?" "Which the misses would cut short by talk-bodied egotism." ing of cruets, lambswool, and a new stitch. Whereas, were it not for the attraction of that accursed fireside, over which he has coddled himself from his boyhood till he has secured a rheumatism from every casual encounter of the night air, he would take his young people into the society of those of their own age, to the improvement of their spirits and intellects, and the encouragement of those friendships and connections which are to cheer their after progress through life. An Englishman does little or nothing for the cultivation of acquaintanceships. He thinks it enough, for the happiness of his family, that he cherishes one or two old bores of friends, who entertain, word for word, and blunder for blunder, the same opinions as himself. It is his favourite boast that he don't care about the world. He swears, on every fresh visitation, that he hates large parties; which, being interpreted, means that he is snugger in his own home, where he can engross the whole fireside, and lay down the law, than in a more extended circle, where he must share with other people his consequence and right of shin-broiling." "Well, I must still confess myself, on that point, a John Bull," cried Ramble, shaking up his feathers, and looking as if he had said a fine thing, and was proud of himself. "Nobody doubts you, sir; and you are in the majority-you are decidedly in the majority!" cried Sir Jos. "For my part, I wish to interfere with no man's pleasures or pursuits; I only permit myself to despise them!" Nothing, certainly! And the consequence is, that he has become more intelligent, more refined, more independent, than ourselves. Which capital, pray, is progressing most rapidly? London, Edinburgh, Dublin, or Paris? Which nation has effected most in self-enfranchisement within the last ten years? The English or the French? Where are the arts most cultivated? Where are the sciences most encouraged? "I fancy I shall have most people on my side, Whence do we borrow our elegant inventionswhen I say, that a good fire on a winter's evening our lessons of taste-the tone of our public is not so very despicable!" cried Ramble, rabbing amusements-the mode of all we eat, wear, sing, his hands, with a chuckle. "With a commodious dance, or assume in the way of personal or social drawing-room, having an Axminster carpet, well-embellishments? From the Continent, sir!lined curtains, closely drawn in the rear ; on one From the Continent, which is not too much enside a smoking notable, on the other a handsome grossed in warming its shins to neglect its power sprightly woman, and in front a fine, clear, bright, of invention. From the Continent, which, as it glowing fire, of Newcastle coal; I challenge life does not station itself with its coat-flaps in its hands before the fireplace, in the most indecent | attitude ever imagined by the sensuality of mankind, is not brutalized out of all refinement of soul or elegance of manners! Now, sir! because we have accustomed our cuticles to this unnatural vitrification, are the great bonds of society to be loosed? Is there to be none of that expanded fellowship of intellect, from whence arises the great regeneration of the species the grand elevation of national motives-the cheering prospect of national glory? Rather than witness such degeneration, I pray that the wisdom of Parliament would buy up the infernal reserves of Staffordshire and Newcastle, and freeze us into the necessity of congregating together for the sake of bodily warmth !" "Upon my life, I can't conceive what we want more in the way of association than we now enjoy!" cried Ramble. "Those who are engaged in professions pass their whole mornings in social communication." "As for the despatch of business, an Englishman will do anything for the good of the shop." "Then, of an evening, Parliament brings together nightly, eight months of the year, a vast proportion of the most intelligent of the community." "Still for what they pretend to call despatch of business—that is, for the purpose of talking about despatching it." "Well, the Clubs ?-look at the Clubs of London! Every fashionable street has its Club; and the West End, a whole street of them, where the society you advocate may be obtained on the easiest terms." "The Clubs?" cried the pessimist. "The Clubs!-talk of the Clubs in the way of social intercourse! For what were they instituted, pray, but that the Englishman's fireside might be permanently ex-domesticated, in a spot where the claims of civilization are altogether abolished?-a spot where the fireside is secure from petticoat participation; where hundreds of coatflaps may be uplifted instead of a pair; a special mart of social egotism; an association for the encouragement of selfishness, for the promotion of unchristian sensuality. Since the establishment of Clubs, which, instead of affording cheerful intercommunication with his fellowcreatures, a man, of what is called good company, affects to frequent, for the enjoyment of his newspaper, his cigar, or his solitary meal; the theatres, the concert-rooms, the coteries, and all other places of public entertainment have been deserted, or, rather, bequeathed to the exclusive use of the weaker moiety of the human race. And why? Because, sir, these Clubs are an institution founded upon the same confounded system of fireside enjoyments-an enlarged edition of the Englishman's fireside-the Englishman's confounded fireside!" "Still," persisted Ramble, (in the provoking little "filet de voix" which Molière ascribes to "la raison,") "you must admit that, however it may deteriorate John Bull's intelligence, the domestic fireside constitutes the cradle of his virtues." "Curse on his virtues!-they've undone his country!" cried Sir Jos, in the phrase applied by Addison to Cato, and by a modern moralist to George III. "Because King George chose to dine on a shoulder of mutton, (at the hour when his roué son was breakfasting on a devilled fowl,) he was allowed to fling away America without reproof, and to hang thirty forgers of one-pound notes and ace of spades, per month, without scruple of conscience! So is it with that arch-humbug of humbugs, John Bull; who allows himself to revel in oceans of gin and bitters-to gamble away his inheritance, from the pea and thimble-rig to Crockford's or the Stock Exchange-to render our public thoroughfares a school of the filthiest immorality-to do everything that is vile and vicious in a fifty-fold more glaring and offensive manner than his neighbours, because he pays his taxes, toasts Church and State, and proses to any one who will listen to him, about the charms of an Englishman's fireside." "Nevertheless, I think I could prove to you," persisted Ramble, with undisturbed equanimity, "that much of what you have advanced"— He was interrupted by a violent slam of the door. While the optimist was caressing his legs, and admiring the set of his boots, the pessimist had shaken hands with me and departed, leaving the smiling Joe in undisturbed possession of the hearthrug, in that characteristic and uncerimonious attitude of self-indulgence which has become typical, from one end of Europe to the other, of THE ENGLISHMAN'S FIRESIDE. A DANISH TRADITION. THE island of Zealand is joined, on the northwest, by a narrow sandy strip of land, to a beautiful and fertile peninsula, thickly dotted with cottages, and forming a little district in itself. It boasts of one small town, beyond which the peninsula extends in a bold headland, far out into the wild and stormy Cattegat, forming a landscape of the most bleak and desolate description. The shifting sand has destroyed all traces of vegetation; moving sand hills-the play of the temposts which, unchecked, sweep over the land from the stormy sea-are constantly changing their position, and arise and disappear in evervarying succession. While travelling through the island, I, on one occasion, spent an hour in this place; and it has left on my mind a picture of horror which I shall never forget. I was riding alone over the desert and sandy flat, when there arose from the north, on the side nearest the sea, a storm, accompanied with thunder and lightning. The waves ran high, the clouds chased each other through the firmament, the | which the law required. The second stranger now stepped forward. "You have the choice," said he, "of following us and receiving the proffered sum of money, or of remaining here and having a bullet sent through your head." So saying, he held a pistol to the pastor's forehead, and awaited his answer. The old clergyman turned pale, and having silently and hastily risen up, and put on a sort of upper garment, replied, “I am ready." The strangers, meanwhile, had spoken Danish, but in such a manner that it was impossible to doubt they were foreigners. They now proceeded in silence through the village, and the pastor followed. skies became dark and lowering, the sand began | duals, besides going through the formalities to give way in masses under the feet of my horse, and at last rose in whirlwinds and filled the air. The path could no longer be discerned, the horse sank deeper and deeper in the loose sand; heaven, earth, and sea, seemed all mingled together in one wild tumult; and every object was enveloped in a cloud of sand and dust. There was no trace of life or vegetation; the tempest whistled through the air; the waves of the ocean lashed the shore; the thunder rolled in the distance; and the dull lurid lightning seemed as though it could scarcely penetrate the air, thick with particles of the flying soil. The danger was imminent; when suddenly a heavy thunder shower began to fall, and effectually laid the shifting sand; enabling me, though thoroughly drenched, to find my way to the little town. It was on this desolate track of country, about a quarter of a mile from the shore, that the village of Nörwig was situated. The sand has long since destroyed all traces of human dwellings; and the inhabitants, principally sailors and fishermen, have long since removed to another quarter; the church alone remains, standing solitary upon a little eminence, and surrounded, on all sides, by the melancholy and constantly shifting desert. It is the scene of the following most mysterious occurrence : It was during the early part of the last century, that the old and venerable pastor of the village sat in his lonely apartment, sunk in deep meditation. It was midnight; the house lay at the extremity of the village; and, as the simple manners of the inhabitants rendered it unnecessary to employ bolt or bar, the doors all remained open. The lamp was burning dimly, and the solemn silence was unbroken, save by the rippling of the sea, in which the pale moon beheld her own reflection. Suddenly the old man heard the doors beneath opening, and recognised the heavy footsteps of men upon the stair case; he now looked up, expecting to receive a summons, in all probability, to attend a dying person, and administer spiritual consolation. Two strange-looking men now entered the apartment, clad in white mantles, and approached him in the most courteous manner. “ Pastor of Nōrwig," said the first of the intruders, "we request you to follow us; there is a wedding to be solemnized, and the bridal pair are already awaiting you in the church." He then shewed the old man a heavy purse of gold, which he promised should be his, as a recompense for the trouble and annoyance such an ill-timed summons might occasion him. The pastor stared in astonishment at the stranger; for there was something in his appearance which seemed to him awful and almost spectral; but the latter only repeated his words, and that in a more threatening and commanding tone. When the old man began to collect himself, he represented to the stranger that his sacred office did not permit him to perform the marriage-service without some previous knowledge of the indivi | | It was a completely dark autumn night, for the moon had already gone down; but, as they left the village, the old man perceived, to his surprise, that the church was brilliantly illuminated. Onwards, however, in silence strode his two companions, wrapped in their white mantles, and leaving the sandy plain behind them; while he, with the utmost difficulty, succeeded in keeping pace with them. On reaching the church, they bound a handkerchief over his eyes; immediately afterwards, he heard the well-known side doors open with a jarring noise, and he was forcibly thrown in among a dense crowd of men. There was a murmur of many voices pervading the church; and in his immediate neighbourhood he could distinguish words of a language totally unknown to him. It was Russian, as he suspected at the time. Whilst he was yet standing, with bandaged eyes, pressed on every side, helpless, and in the greatest terror and confusion, he felt his hand suddenly seized, and he was hurried through the midst of the throng, which appeared to give way. At last the bandage was loosened, he recognised one of his first companions near him, and found himself standing before the altar. It was decorated with a row of enormous wax candles, in massive silver candlesticks; and the church itself was so brilliantly illuminated, that the most distant object was distinctly perceptible. During the time that his eyes were bandaged, the noise of the crowd had appeared to him tremendous; but now the solemn stillness of the multitude had, if possible, on his timid soul, a still more appalling effect. Although the seats and side passages were crowded with men, yet the middle aisle was completely empty, and the pastor distinguished, in the midst of it, a newly dug grave; the pavement stone which had covered the spot, now lying against the side of a neighbouring seat. Men only were to be seen, with the exception of a solitary female, whom the old man fancied he could discern in the most distant corner of the church. The silence lasted for some minutes; not even the least movement being heard; meantime arose in the soul of the pastor a dark and heavy misgiving that some deed of horror was about to be performed. At last a man rose up, whose magnificent dress distinguished him from the rest, and |