No More Learning

which is rather suspicious in its origin. In fact the tale as it stands
is neither primitive nor mediæval, but is a fairly ingenious concoc-
tion of primitive and mediæval ingredients, probably made in the
seventeenth or eighteenth century. It contains, inter alia, some strik-
ing versions of the old mystic poems attributed to Taliesin; for a
further account of which we must refer the reader to the article
in a later volume upon that remarkable and thrice puzzling Cymraec
poet. In the opening of the story of Taliesin,' as it stands, will be
found the mention of a certain Tegid Voel; and this serves to remind
us that it was a Welsh scholar, best known by his bardic use of the
same name, "Tegid," who was Lady Guest's collaborator in trans-
lating the 'Mabinogion. '
It may be said in appraising the value of the contribution thus
made to the open literature of the world, that if, necessarily, some-
thing is lost in the transference from an old to a newer tongue, yet
the version we have is a really surprisingly good English equiva-
lent, written with a great charm of style and a pervading sense of
the spirit of all romance literature. Let us not forget, either, to note
the services rendered to the book, by one so remarkable among the


## p. 9376 (#396) ###########################################

9376
THE MABINOGION
American poets as the late Sidney Lanier, from whom we quoted a
phrase in our opening sentence. In his pleasant preamble to The
Boys' Mabinogion,' the account he gives of his subject forms so con-
vincing a tribute to its delights that one is tempted to steal a sen-
tence or two. After referring to the 'Arabian Nights,' Sidney Lanier
goes on to say that the 'Mabinogion' fortunately "do not move in
that close temperature which often renders the atmosphere of the
Eastern tales so unwholesome. " Again he says (and how well the
sentence touches on the imaginative spell that one finds in the more
primitive, more peculiarly Celtic of those tales, such as the thrice
wonderful 'Dream of Rhonabwy! '): "There is a glamour and sleep-
walking mystery which often incline a man to rub his eyes in the
midst of a Mabinogi, and to think of previous states of existence. "
It remains to be said, finally, that the old manuscript volume of
the 'Mabinogion,' known as the 'Llyfr Coch o Hergest,' the 'Red
Book of Hergest,' lies enshrined in the famous library of Jesus Col-
lege, Oxford: the one college in the older English universities which
has a time-honored connection with Welsh scholarship and Welsh lit-
erature.
Ement Rhys
THE DREAM OF RHONABWY
-
HOW RHONABWY SLEPT, AND BEGAN HIS DREAM
Now
ow, near the house of Heilyn Goch they saw an old hall,
very black and having an upright gable, whence issued a
great smoke; and on entering they found the floor full of
puddles and mounds; and it was difficult to stand thereon, so
slippery was it with mire. And where the puddles were, a man
might go up to the ankles in water and dirt. And there were
boughs of holly spread over the floor, whereof the cattle had
browsed the sprigs. When they came to the hall of the house,
they beheld cells full of dust and very gloomy, and on one side.
an old hag making a fire. And whenever she felt cold, she cast
a lapful of chaff upon the fire, and raised such a smoke that it
was scarcely to be borne as it rose up the nostrils. And on the


## p. 9377 (#397) ###########################################

THE MABINOGION
9377
other side was a yellow calfskin on the floor; a main privilege
was it to any one who should get upon that hide. And when
they had sat down, they asked the hag where were the people.
of the house. And the hag spoke not, but muttered. Thereupon.
behold the people of the house entered: a ruddy, clownish, curly-
headed man, with a burthen of fagots on his back, and a pale,
slender woman, also carrying a bundle under her arm. And
they barely welcomed the men, and kindled a fire with the
boughs. And the woman cooked something and gave them to
eat: barley bread, and cheese, and milk and water.
And there arose a storm of wind and rain, so that it was
hardly possible to go forth with safety. And being weary with
their journey, they laid themselves down and sought to sleep.
And when they looked at the couch it seemed to be made but
of a little coarse straw, full of dust and vermin, with the stems
of boughs sticking up therethrough; for the cattle had eaten all
the straw that was placed at the head and foot.
And upon it
was stretched an old russet-colored rug, threadbare and ragged;
and a coarse sheet full of slits was upon the rug, and an ill-
stuffed pillow, and a worn-out cover upon the sheet. And after
much suffering from the vermin, and from the discomfort of their
couch, a heavy sleep fell on Rhonabwy's companions. But Rhona-
bwy, not being able either to sleep or to rest, thought he should
suffer less if he went to lie upon the yellow calfskin that was
stretched out on the floor. And there he slept.
As soon as sleep had come upon his eyes it seemed to him
that he was journeying with his companions across the plain of
Argyngroeg, and he thought that he went towards Rhyd y Groes
on the Severn. As he journeyed he heard a mighty noise, the
like whereof heard he never before; and looking behind him,
he beheld a youth with yellow curling hair, and with his beard.
newly trimmed, mounted on a chestnut horse, whereof the legs.
were gray from the top of the fore legs, and from the bend of
the hind legs downwards. And the rider wore a coat of yellow
satin sewn with green silk, and on his thigh was a gold-hilted.
sword, with a scabbard of new leather of Cordova, belted with
the skin of the deer, and clasped with gold. And over this
was a scarf of yellow satin, wrought with green silk, the borders
whereof were likewise green. And the green of the caparison of
the horse, and of his rider, was as green as the leaves of the fir-
tree, and the yellow was as yellow as the blossom of the broom.
XVI-587


## p. 9378 (#398) ###########################################

9378
THE MABINOGION
LLUDD AND LLEVELYS
HOW KING LLUDD FOUNDED CAER LLUDD, OR THE CITY OF LONDON
Α
FTER the death of King Beli, the kingdom of the Island of
Britain fell into the hands of Lludd, and Lludd rebuilt the
walls of London, and encompassed it about with number-
less towers. And after that he bade the citizens build houses
therein, such as no houses in the country could equal. And
moreover he was a mighty warrior, and generous and liberal in
giving meat and drink to all that sought them. And though he
had many castles and cities, this one loved he more than any.
And he dwelt therein most part of the year, and therefore it
was called Caer Lludd, and at last Caer London. And after the
stranger race came, it was called London, or Lwyndrys.
How LLUDD FOUND OXFORD TO BE THE CENTRE OF THE ISLAND OF
BRITAIN, AND HOW HE TOOK THE TWO DRAGONS IN A CALDRON
AND King Lludd caused the Isle of Britain to be measured;
and in Oxford he found the central point. And in that place
he caused the earth to be dug, and in the pit a caldron to be
set, full of the best mead that could be made; with a covering
of satin over the face of it. And he himself watched that night;
and while he watched, he beheld the dragons fighting. And
when they were weary, they fell down upon the satin covering,
and drew it with them to the bottom of the caldron.
And they
drank up the mead in the caldron, and then they slept. And
thereupon Lludd folded the satin covering around them, and in
the safest place in all Snowdon he hid them in a kistvaen. And
after this the place was called Dinas Emrys. And thus the
fierce outcry ceased in his dominions.
KILHWCH AND OLWEN
THE RIDE OF KILHWCH
Α
ND Kilhwch pricked forth on a steed with head dappled gray,
of four winters old, firm of limb, with shell-formed hoofs,
having a bridle of linked gold on his head, and upon him
a saddle of costly gold. And in the youth's hand were two
spears of silver, sharp, headed with well-tempered steel, three ells


## p. 9379 (#399) ###########################################

THE MABINOGION
9379
in length, of an edge to wound the wind, and cause blood to
flow, and swifter than the fall of the dew-drop from the blade of
reed grass upon the earth, when the dew of June is at the heav-
iest. A gold-hilted sword was upon his thigh, the blade of which
was of gold, bearing a cross of inlaid gold of the hue of the
lightning of heaven; his war-horn was of ivory. Before him were
two brindled white-breasted greyhounds, having strong collars of
rubies about their necks, reaching from the shoulder to the ear.
And the one that was on the left side bounded across to the
right side, and the one on the right to the left, and like two sea-
swallows sported around him. And his courser cast up four sods
with his four hoofs, like four swallows in the air, about his head,
now above, now below. About him was a four-cornered cloth of
purple, and an apple of gold was at each corner, and every one
of the apples was of the value of an hundred kine. And there
was precious gold of the value of three hundred kine upon his
shoes, and upon his stirrups, from his knee to the tip of his toe.
And the blade of grass bent not beneath him, so light was his
courser's tread as he journeyed towards the gate of Arthur's
palace.
DESCRIPTION OF OLWEN
THE maiden was clothed in a robe of flame-colored silk, and
about her neck was a collar of ruddy gold, on which were pre-
cious emeralds and rubies. More yellow was her head than the
flower of the broom, and her skin was whiter than the foam of
the wave, and fairer were her hands and her fingers than the
blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray of the meadow
fountain. The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the three-
mewed falcon, was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more
snowy than the breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder
than the reddest roses. Those who beheld her were filled with
her love. Four white trefoils sprang up wherever she trod.
FROM BRANWEN THE DAUGHTER OF LLYR'
Ρ
PEA
EACE was made, and the house was built both vast and strong.
But the Irish planned a crafty device; and the craft was
that they should put brackets on each side of the hundred
pillars that were in the house, and should place a leathern bag on
each bracket, and an armed man in every one of them. Then


## p. 9380 (#400) ###########################################

9380
THE MABINOGION
Evnissyen [Branwen's brother, the perpetual mischief-maker]
came in before th host of the Island of the Mighty, and scanned
the house with fierce and savage looks, and descried the leathern
bags which were around the pillars. "What is in this bag? "
asked he of one of the Irish. "Meal, good soul," said he. And
Evnissyen felt about it till he came to the man's head, and he
squeezed the head until he felt his fingers meet together in the
brain through the bone. And he left that one and put his hand
upon another, and asked what was therein? "Meal," said the
Irishman. So he did the like unto every one of them, until
he had not left alive of all the two hundred men save one only
and when he came to him, he asked what was there? "Meal,
good soul," said the Irishman. And he felt about until he felt
the head, and he squeezed that head as he had done the others.
And albeit he found that the head of this one was armed, he
left him not until he had killed him. And then he sang an
Englyn:-
―――
"There is in this bag a different sort of meal,
The ready combatant, when the assault is made,
By his fellow warriors prepared for battle. "
FROM THE DREAM OF MAXEN WLEDIG›
A
ND he saw a maiden sitting before him in a chair of ruddy
gold. Not more easy to gaze upon than the sun when
brightest, was it to look upon her by reason of her beauty.
A vest of white silk was upon the maiden, with clasps of red
gold at the breast; and a surcoat of gold tissue was upon her,
and a frontlet of red gold upon her head, and rubies and gems
were in the frontlet, alternating with pearls and imperial stones.
And a girdle of ruddy gold was around her. She was the fairest
sight that man ever beheld.
The maiden arose from her chair before him, and he threw
his arms about the neck of the maiden, and they two sat down
together in the chair of gold; and the chair was not less roomy
for them both than for the maiden alone. And as he had his
arms about the maiden's neck, and his cheek by her cheek,
behold, through the chafing of the dogs at their leashing, and
the clashing of the shields as they struck against each other, and
the beating together of the shafts of the spears, and the neighing
of the horses and their prancing, the Emperor awoke.


## p. 9380 (#401) ###########################################



## p. 9380 (#402) ###########################################


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## p. 9380 (#403) ###########################################

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## p. 9380 (#404) ###########################################

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## p. 9381 (#405) ###########################################

9381
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
(1800-1859)
BY JOHN BACH MCMASTER
HOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY, the most widely read of English
essayists and historians, was born near London on the 25th
of October, 1800. His early education was received at
private schools; but in 1818 he went into residence at Trinity College,
Cambridge, graduated with honor, and was elected a fellow in 1824.
Out of deference to the wishes of his father he thought for a while
of becoming an attorney, read law, and was called to the bar in 1826.
But the labors of the profession were little to his liking; no business
of consequence came to him, and he was soon deep in literature and
politics, for the pursuit of which his tastes, his habits, and his parts
pre-eminently fitted him.
His nephew and biographer has gathered a mass of anecdotes and
reminiscences, which go far to show that while still a lad Macaulay
displayed in a high degree many of the mental characteristics which
later in life made him famous. The eagerness with which he de-
voured books of every sort; the marvelous memory which enabled
him to recall for years whole pages and poems, read but once; the
quickness of perception by the aid of which he could at a glance.
extract the contents of a printed page; his love of novels and poetry;
his volubility, his positiveness of assertion, and the astonishing amount
of information he could pour out on matters of even trivial import-
ance,-
,—were as characteristic of the boy as of the man.
As might have been expected from one so gifted, Macaulay began
to write while a mere child; but his first printed piece was an anony-
mous letter defending novel-reading and lauding Fielding and Smol-
lett. It was written at the age of sixteen; was addressed to his father,
then editor of the Christian Observer, was inserted in utter ignorance
of the author, and brought down on the periodical the wrath of a
host of subscribers. One declared that he had given the obnoxious
number to the flames, and should never again read the magazine.
At twenty-three Macaulay began to write for Knight's Quarterly Maga-
zine, and contributed to it articles some of which as The Conver-
sation between Mr. Abraham Cowley and Mr. John Milton touching
the Great Civil War'; his criticism of Dante and Petrarch; that on
Athenian Orators; and the 'Fragments of a Roman Tale' are still
―


## p. 9382 (#406) ###########################################

9382
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
given a place in his collected writings. In themselves these pieces
are of small value; but they served to draw attention to the author
just at the time when Jeffrey, the editor of the great Whig Edin-
burgh Review, was eagerly and anxiously searching for "some clever
young man" to write for it. Macaulay was such a clever young man.
Overtures were therefore made to him; and in 1825, in the August
number of the Review, appeared his essay on 'John Milton. The
effect was immediate. Like Byron, he awoke one morning to find
himself famous; was praised and complimented on every hand, and
day after day saw his table covered with cards of invitation to dinner
from every part of London. And well he might be praised; for no
English magazine had ever before published so readable, so eloquent,
so entertaining an essay. Its very faults are pleasing. Its merits
are of a high order; but the passage which will best bear selection
as a specimen of the writing of Macaulay at twenty-five is the de-
scription of the Puritan.
Macaulay had now found his true vocation, and entered on it
eagerly and with delight. In March 1827 came the essay on Machia-
velli; and during 1828 those on John Dryden, on History, and on Hal-
lam's 'Constitutional History. ' During 1829 he wrote and published
reviews of James Mill's Essay on Government' (which involved him
in an unseemly wrangle with the Westminster Review, and called
forth two more essays on the Utilitarian Theory of Government),
Southey's Colloquies on Society,' Sadler's Law of Population,' and
the reviews of Robert Montgomery's Poems. The reviews of Moore's
'Life of Byron' and of Southey's edition of the Pilgrim's Progress'
appeared during 1830. In that same year Macaulay entered Parlia-
ment, and for a time the essays came forth less frequently. A reply
to a pamphlet by Mr. Sadler written in reply to Macaulay's review,
the famous article in which Croker's edition of Boswell's Johnson
was pilloried, and the essay on John Hampden, were all he wrote in
1831. In 1832 came Burleigh and his Times, and Mirabeau; in 1833
The War of the Succession in Spain, and Horace Walpole; in 1834
William Pitt, Earl of Chatham; in 1835 Sir James Mackintosh; in 1837
Lord Bacon, the finest yet produced; in 1838 Sir William Temple; in
1839 Gladstone on Church and State; and in 1840 the greatest of all
his essays, those on Von Ranke's History of the Popes' and on Lord
Clive. The Comic Dramatists of the Restoration, Warren Hastings,
and a short sketch of Lord Holland, were written in 1841 Frederic
the Great in 1842; Madame D'Arblay and Addison in 1843; Barère
and The Earl of Chatham in 1844: and with these the long list
closes.
Never before in any period of twenty years had the British read-
ing public been instructed and amused by so splendid a series of


## p. 9383 (#407) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9383
essays. Taken as a whole the series falls naturally into three classes:
the critical, the biographical, and the historical. Each has merits and
peculiarities of its own; but all have certain characteristics in com-
mon which enable us to treat them in a group.
Whoever will take the pains to read the six-and-thirty essays we
have mentioned, - and he will be richly repaid for his pains, -can-
not fail to perceive that sympathy with the past is Macaulay's ruling
passion. Concerning the present he knew little and cared less. The
range of topics covered by him was enormous; art, science, theology,
history, literature, poetry, the drama, philosophy — all were passed
in review. Yet he has never once failed to treat his subject histori-
cally. We look in vain for the faintest approach to a philosophical
or analytical treatment. He reviewed Mill's essay on Government,
and Hallam's 'Constitutional History'; but he made no observations
on government in the abstract, nor expressed any opinions as to
what sort of government is best suited for civilized communities in
general. He wrote about Bacon; yet he never attempted to expound
the principles or describe the influence of the Baconian philosophy.
He wrote about Addison and Johnson, Hastings and Clive, Machia-
velli and Horace Walpole and Madame D'Arblay; yet in no case did
he analyze the works, or fully examine the characteristics, or set forth
exhaustively the ideas, of one of them. They are to him mere pegs
on which to hang a splendid historical picture of the times in which
these people lived. Thus the essay on Milton is a review of the
Cromwellian period; Machiavelli, of Italian morals in the sixteenth
century; that on Dryden, of the state of poetry and the drama in the
days of Charles the Second; that on Johnson, of the state of English
literature in the days of Walpole. In the essays on Clive and Hast-
ings, we find little of the founders of British India beyond the enu-
meration of their acts. But the Mogul empire, and the rivalries and
struggles which overthrew it, are all depicted in gorgeous detail. No
other writer has ever given so fine an account of the foreign policy
of Charles the Second as Macaulay has done in the essay on Sir Will-
iam Temple; nor of the Parliamentary history of England for the forty
years preceding our Revolution, as is to be found in the essays on
Lord Chatham. In each case the image of the man whose name
stands at the head of the essay is blurred and indistinct.
We are
told of the trial of John Hampden; but we do not see the fearless
champion of popular liberty as he stood before the judges of King
Charles. We are introduced to Frederic the Great, and are given a
summary of his characteristics and a glowing narrative of the wars
in which he won fame; but the real Frederic, the man contending
"against the greatest superiority of power and the utmost spite of
fortune," is lost in the mass of accessories. He describes the out-
ward man admirably: the inner man is never touched.


## p. 9384 (#408) ###########################################

9384
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
But however faulty the Essays may be in respect to the treatment
accorded to individual men, they display a prodigious knowledge of
the facts and events of the periods they cover. His wonderful mem-
ory, stored with information gathered from a thousand sources, his
astonishing power of arranging facts and bringing them to bear on
any subject, whether it called for description or illustration, joined
with a clear and vigorous style, enabled him to produce historical
scenes with a grouping, a finish, and a splendor to which no other
writer can approach. His picture of the Puritan in the essay on
Milton, and of Loyola and the Jesuits in the essay on the Popes; his
description of the trial of Warren Hastings; of the power and mag-
nificence of Spain under Philip the Second; of the destiny of the
Church of Rome; of the character of Charles the Second in the essay
on Sir James Mackintosh,-are but a few of many of his bits of word-
painting which cannot be surpassed. What is thus true of particular
scenes and incidents in the Essays is equally true of many of them
in the whole. Long periods of time, great political movements, com-
plicated policies, fluctuations of ministries, are sketched with an accu-
racy, animation, and clearness not to be met with in any elaborate
treatise covering the same period.
While Macaulay was writing two and three essays a year, he won
renown in a new field by the publication of 'The Lays of Ancient
Rome. ' They consist of four ballads-'Horatius'; 'The Battle of
the Lake Regillus'; 'Virginius'; and 'The Prophecy of Capys'— which
are supposed to have been sung by Roman minstrels, and to belong
to a very early period in the history of the city. In them are re-
peated all the merits and all the defects of the Essays. The men
and women are mere enumerations of qualities; the battle pieces are
masses of uncombined incidents: but the characteristics of the periods
treated have been caught and reproduced with perfect accuracy. The
setting of Horatius, which belongs to the earliest days of Rome,
is totally different from the setting of the Prophecy of Capys, which
belongs to the time when Rome was fast acquiring the mastery over
Italy; and in each case the setting is studiously and remarkably exact.
In these poems, again, there is the same prodigious learning, the same
richness of illustration, which distinguish the essays; and they are
adorned with a profusion of metaphor and aptness of epithets which
is most admirable.
The 'Lays' appeared in 1842, and at once found their way into
popular favor. Macaulay's biographer assures us that in ten years
18,000 copies were sold in Great Britain; 40,000 copies in twenty
years; and before 1875 nearly 100,000 had passed into the hands of
readers.
Meantime the same popularity attended the 'Essays. ' Again and
again Macaulay had been urged to collect and publish them in book


## p. 9385 (#409) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9385
form, and had stoutly refused. But when an enterprising publisher
in Philadelphia not only reprinted them but shipped copies to Eng-
land, Macaulay gave way; and in the early months of 1843 a volume
was issued.
Like the Lays, the Essays rose at once into popular
favor, and in the course of thirty years 120,000 copies were sold in
the United Kingdom by one publisher.
But the work on which he was now intent was the 'History of
England from the accession of King James the Second down to a
time which is within the memory of men still living. ' The idea of
such a narrative had long been in his mind; but it was not till 1841
that he began seriously to write, and not till 1848 that he published
the first and second volumes. Again his success was instant. Nothing
like it had been known since the days of Waverley. Of 'Marmion'
were sold in the first month; of Macaulay's History 3,000
copies were sold in ten days. Of the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
2,250 copies were disposed of in course of the first year; but the
publishers sold 13,000 copies of Macaulay in four months. In the
United States the success was greater yet.
2,000
"We beg you to accept herewith a copy of our cheap edition of your
work," wrote Harper & Brothers in 1849.
"There have been three other
editions published by different houses, and another is now in preparation; so
there will be six different editions in the market. We have already sold
40,000 copies, and we presume that over 60,000 copies have been disposed of.
Probably within three months of this time the sale will amount to 200,000
copies. No work of any kind has ever so completely taken our whole coun-
try by storm. »
Astonishing as was the success, it never flagged; and year after
year the London publisher disposed of the work at the rate of
seventy sets a week. In November 1855 the third and fourth vol-
umes were issued. Confident of an immense sale, 25,000 copies were
printed as a first edition, and were taken by the trade before a copy
was bound. In the United States the sale, he was assured by Everett,
was greater than that of any book ever printed, save the Bible and
a few school-books in universal use. Prior to 1875, his biographer
states, 140,000 copies of the History were sold in the United King-
dom. In ten weeks from the day of the issue 26,500 copies were
taken, and in March 1856 $100,000 was paid him as a part of the
royalty due in December. .
Honors of every sort were now showered on him. He was raised
to the peerage; he was rich, famous, and great. But the enjoyment
of his honors was short-lived; for in December 1859 he was found in
his library, seated in his easy-chair, dead. Before him on the table
lay a copy of the Cornhill Magazine, open at the first page of
Thackeray's story of Lovel the Widower. '


## p. 9386 (#410) ###########################################

9386
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
All that has been said regarding the Essays and the Lays applies
with equal force to the History of England. ' No historian who has
yet written has shown such familiarity with the facts of English
history, no matter what the subject in hand may be: the extinction
of villeinage, the Bloody Assizes, the appearance of the newspaper,
the origin of the national debt, or the state of England in 1685.
Macaulay is absolutely unrivaled in the art of arranging and com-
bining his facts, and of presenting in a clear and vigorous narrative
the spirit of the epoch he treats. Nor should we fail to mention that
both Essays and History abound in remarks, general observations, and
comment always clear, vigorous, and shrewd, and in the main very
just.
Johns
he Back MeMaster
THE COFFEE-HOUSE
From the History of England ›
THE
HE coffee-house must not be dismissed with a cursory men-
tion. It might indeed at that time have been not im-
properly called a most important political institution. No.
Parliament had sat for years. The municipal council of the City
had ceased to speak the sense of the citizens. Public meetings,
harangues, resolutions, and the rest of the modern machinery of
agitation had not yet come into fashion. Nothing resembling
the modern newspaper existed. In such circumstances the coffee-
houses were the chief organs through which the public opinion
of the metropolis vented itself.
The first of these establishments had been set up by a Tur-
key merchant, who had acquired among the Mahometans a taste
for their favorite beverage. The convenience of being able to
make appointments in any part of the town, and of being able
to pass evenings socially at a very small charge, was so great
that the fashion spread fast. Every man of the upper or middle
class went daily to his coffee-house to learn the news and to dis-
cuss it.
Every coffee-house had one or more orators to whose
eloquence the crowd listened with admiration, and who soon.
became what the journalists of our time have been called, a
Fourth Estate of the realm. The court had long seen with un-
easiness the growth of this new power in the State. An attempt


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THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9387
had been made, during Danby's administration, to close the coffee-
houses. But men of all parties missed their usual places of
resort so much that there was an unusual outcry. The govern-
ment did not venture, in opposition to a feeling so strong and
general, to enforce a regulation of which the legality might well
be questioned. Since that time ten years had elapsed, and during
those years the number and influence of the coffee-houses had
been constantly increasing. Foreigners remarked that the coffee-
house was that which especially distinguished London from all
other cities; that the coffee-house was the Londoner's home, and
that those who wished to find a gentleman commonly asked, not
whether he lived in Fleet Street or Chancery Lane, but whether
he frequented the Grecian or the Rainbow. Nobody was excluded
from these places who laid down his penny at the bar. Yet
every rank and profession, and every shade of religious and polit-
ical opinion, had its own headquarters. There were houses near
Saint James's Park where fops congregated, their heads and shoul-
ders covered with black or flaxen wigs, not less ample than those
which are worn by the Chancellor and by the Speaker of the
House of Commons. The wig came from Paris, and so did the
rest of the fine gentleman's ornaments,— his embroidered coat, his
fringed gloves, and the tassel which upheld his pantaloons. The
conversation was in that dialect which, long after it had ceased
to be spoken in fashionable circles, continued in the mouth of
Lord Foppington to excite the mirth of theatres. The atmo-
sphere was like that of a perfumer's shop. Tobacco in any other
form than that of richly scented snuff was held in abomination.
If any clown, ignorant of the usages of the house, called for a
pipe, the sneers of the whole assembly and the short answers of
the waiters soon convinced him that he had better go somewhere
else. Nor indeed would he have had far to go.
For in gen-
eral, the coffee-rooms reeked with tobacco like a guard-room; and
strangers sometimes expressed their surprise that so many peo-
ple should leave their own firesides to sit in the midst of eternal
fog and stench. Nowhere was the smoking more constant than
at Will's. That celebrated house, situated between Covent Gar-
den and Bow Street, was sacred to polite letters. There the talk
was about poetical justice and the unities of place and time.
There was a faction for Perrault and the moderns, a faction for
Boileau and the ancients. One group debated whether 'Paradise
Lost' ought not to have been in rhyme. To another an envious


## p. 9388 (#412) ###########################################

9388
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
poetaster demonstrated that 'Venice Preserved' ought to have
been hooted from the stage. Under no roof was a greater vari-
ety of figures to be seen. There were earls in stars and garters,
clergymen in cassocks and bands, pert Templars, sheepish lads
from the universities, translators and index-makers in ragged
coats of frieze. The great press was to get near the chair where
John Dryden sat. In winter that chair was always in the warm-
est nook by the fire; in summer it stood in the balcony. To bow
to the Laureate, and to hear his opinion of Racine's last tragedy
or of Bossu's treatise on epic poetry, was thought a privilege.
A pinch from his snuff-box was an honor sufficient to turn the
head of a young enthusiast. There were coffee-houses where the
first medical men might be consulted. Dr. John Radcliffe, who in
the year 1685 rose to the largest practice in London, came daily,
at the hour when the Exchange was full, from his house in
Bow Street, then a fashionable part of the capital, to Garraway's;
and was to be found, surrounded by surgeons and apothecaries,
at a particular table. There were Puritan coffee-houses where no
oath was heard, and where lank-haired men discussed election
and reprobation through their noses; Jew coffee-houses where
dark eyed money-changers from Venice and Amsterdam greeted
each other; and Popish coffee-houses where, as good Protestants
believed, Jesuits planned over their cups another great fire, and
cast silver bullets to shoot the King.
THE DIFFICULTY OF TRAVEL IN ENGLAND, 1685
From the History of England'
THE
HE chief cause which made the fusion of the different ele-
ments of society so imperfect was the extreme difficulty
which our ancestors found in passing from place to place.
Of all inventions, the alphabet and the printing-press alone ex-
cepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done most
for the civilization of our species. Every improvement of the
means of locomotion benefits mankind morally and intellectually
as well as materially; and not only facilitates the interchange of
the various productions of nature and art, but tends to remove
national and provincial antipathies, and to bind together all the
branches of the great human family. In the seventeenth century


## p. 9389 (#413) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9389
the inhabitants of London were, for almost every practical pur-
pose, farther from Reading than they now are from Edinburgh,
and farther from Edinburgh than they now are from Vienna.
The subjects of Charles the Second were not, it is true, quite
unacquainted with that principle which has, in our own time,
produced an unprecedented revolution in human affairs; which
has enabled navies to advance in face of wind and tide, and
brigades of troops, attended by all their baggage and artillery, to
traverse kingdoms at a pace equal to that of the fleetest race-
horse. The Marquess of Worcester had recently observed the
expansive power of moisture rarefied by heat. After many ex-
periments he had succeeded in constructing a rude steam-engine,
which he called a fire-water work, and which he pronounced to
be an admirable and most forcible instrument of propulsion.
But the Marquess was suspected to be a madman, and known to
be a Papist. His inventions therefore found no favorable recep-
tion. His fire-water work might perhaps furnish matter for
conversation at a meeting of the Royal Society, but was not
applied to any practical purpose. There were no railways, except
a few made of timber, on which coals were carried from the
mouths of the Northumbrian pits to the banks of the Tyne.
There was very little internal communication by water. A few
attempts had been made to deepen and embank the natural
streams, but with slender success. Hardly a single navigable
canal had been even projected. The English of that day were
in the habit of talking with mingled admiration and despair of
the immense trench by which Lewis the Fourteenth had made a
junction between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. They lit-
tle thought that their country would, in the course of a few gen-
erations, be intersected, at the cost of private adventurers, by
artificial rivers making up more than four times the length of
the Thames, the Severn, and the Trent together.
It was by the highways that both travelers and goods gener-
ally passed from place to place; and those highways appear to
have been far worse than might have been expected from the
degree of wealth and civilization which the nation had even then
attained. On the best lines of communication the ruts were
deep, the descents precipitous, and the way often such as it was
hardly possible to distinguish, in the dusk, from the uninclosed
heath and fen which lay on both sides. Ralph Thoresby the
antiquary was in danger of losing his way on the Great North


## p. 9390 (#414) ###########################################

9390
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
Road, between Barnby Moor and Tuxford, and actually lost his
way between Doncaster and York. Pepys and his wife, traveling
in their own coach, lost their way between Newbury and Read-
ing. In the course of the same tour they lost their way near
Salisbury, and were in danger of having to pass the night on the
plain. It was only in fine weather that the whole breadth of the
road was available for wheeled vehicles. Often the mud lay
deep on the right and the left; and only a narrow track of firm
ground rose above the quagmire. At such times obstructions and
quarrels were frequent, and the path was sometimes blocked up
during a long time by carriers, neither of whom would break the
way. It happened, almost every day, that coaches stuck fast,
until a team of cattle could be procured from some neighbor-
ing farm, to tug them out of the slough. But in bad seasons
the traveler had to encounter inconveniences still more serious.
Thoresby, who was in the habit of traveling between Leeds and
the capital, has recorded, in his Diary, such a series of perils and
disasters as might suffice for a journey to the Frozen Ocean or
to the Desert of Sahara. On one occasion he learned that the
floods were out between Ware and London, that passengers had
to swim for their lives, and that a higgler had perished in the
attempt to cross. In consequence of these tidings he turned out
of the high-road, and was conducted across some meadows, where
it was necessary for him to ride to the saddle skirts in water.
In the course of another journey he narrowly escaped being
swept away by an inundation of the Trent. He was afterwards
detained at Stamford four days, on account of the state of the
roads; and then ventured to proceed only because fourteen mem-
bers of the House of Commons, who were going up in a body to
Parliament with guides and numerous attendants, took him into
their company.
On the roads of Derbyshire, travelers were in
constant fear for their necks, and were frequently compelled to
alight and lead their beasts. The great route through Wales
to Holyhead was in such a state that in 1685, a viceroy going
to Ireland was five hours in traveling fourteen miles, from St.
Asaph to Conway. Between Conway and Beaumaris he was
forced to walk a great part of the way; and his lady was car-
ried in a litter. His coach was, with much difficulty and by the
help of many hands, brought after him entire. In general, car-
riages were taken to pieces at Conway, and borne on the shoul-
ders of stout Welsh peasants to the Menai Straits. In some


## p. 9391 (#415) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9391
parts of Kent and Sussex, none but the strongest horses could
in winter get through the bog, in which at every step they
sank deep. The markets were often inaccessible during several
months. It is said that the fruits of the earth were sometimes
suffered to rot in one place, while in another place, distant only
a few miles, the supply fell far short of the demand. The
wheeled carriages were in this district generally pulled by oxen.
When Prince George of Denmark visited the stately mansion of
Petworth in wet weather, he was six hours in going nine miles;
and it was necessary that a body of sturdy hinds should be on
each side of his coach, in order to prop it. Of the carriages
which conveyed his retinue, several were upset and injured.
A letter from one of the party has been preserved, in which
the unfortunate courtier complains that during fourteen hours
he never once alighted, except when his coach was overturned
or stuck fast in the mud.
One chief cause of the badness of the roads seems to have
beer the defective state of the law. Every parish was bound
to repair the highways which passed through it. The peasantry
were forced to give their gratuitous labor six days in the year.
If this was not sufficient, hired labor was employed, and the
expense was met by a parochial rate. That a route connecting
two great towns, which have a large and thriving trade with
each other, should be maintained at the cost of the rural popu-
lation scattered between them, is obviously unjust; and this
injustice was peculiarly glaring in the case of the Great North
Road, which traversed very poor and thinly inhabited districts,
and joined very rich and populous districts. Indeed, it was not
in the power of the parishes of Huntingdonshire to mend a high-
way worn by the constant traffic between the West Riding of
Yorkshire and London. Soon after the Restoration this griev-
ance attracted the notice of Parliament; and an act, the first of
our many turnpike acts, was passed, imposing a small toll on
travelers and goods, for the purpose of keeping some parts of
this important line of communication in good repair. This inno-
vation, however, excited many murmurs; and the other great
avenues to the capital were long left under the old system. A
change was at length effected, but not without much difficulty.
For unjust and absurd taxation to which men are accustomed is
often borne far more willingly than the most reasonable impost
which is new. It was not till many toll-bars had been violently


## p. 9392 (#416) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9392
pulled down, till the troops had in many districts been forced to
act against the people, and till much blood had been shed, that a
good system was introduced. By slow degrees reason triumphed
over prejudice; and our island is now crossed in every direction
by near thirty thousand miles of turnpike road.
On the best highways heavy articles were, in the time of
Charles the Second, generally conveyed from place to place by
stage-wagons. In the straw of these vehicles nestled a crowd
of passengers, who could not afford to travel by coach or on
horseback, and who were prevented by infirmity, or by the weight
of their luggage, from going on foot. The expense of transmit-
ting heavy goods in this way was enormous. From London to
Birmingham the charge was seven pounds a ton; from London
to Exeter twelve pounds a ton. This was about fifteen pence a
ton for every mile; more by a third than was afterwards charged
on turnpike roads, and fifteen times what is now demanded
by railway companies. The cost of conveyance amounted to a
prohibitory tax on many useful articles. Coal in particular was
never seen except in the districts where it was produced, or in
the districts to which it could be carried by sea; and was indeed
always known in the south of England by the name of sea-coal.
On by-roads, and generally throughout the country north of
York and west of Exeter, goods were carried by long trains of
pack-horses. These strong and patient beasts, the breed of which
is now extinct, were attended by a class of men who seem to
have borne much resemblance to the Spanish muleteers. A trav-
eler of humble condition often found it convenient to perform a
journey mounted on a pack-saddle between two baskets, under the
care of these hardy guides. The expense of this mode of con-
veyance was small. But the caravan moved at a foot's pace; and
in winter the cold was often insupportable.
The rich commonly traveled in their own carriages, with at
least four horses. Cotton, the facetious poet, attempted to go
from London to the Peak with a single pair; but found at St.
Albans that the journey would be insupportably tedious, and
altered his plan. A coach-and-six is in our time never seen,
except as part of some pageant. The frequent mention there-
fore of such equipages in old books is likely to mislead us. We
attribute to magnificence what was really the effect of a very
disagreeable necessity. People in the time of Charles the Sec-
ond traveled with six horses, because with a smaller number


## p. 9393 (#417) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9393
there was great danger of sticking fast in the mire. Nor were
even six horses always sufficient. Vanbrugh, in the succeeding
generation, described with great humor the way in which a
country gentleman, newly chosen a member of Parliament, went
up to London. On that occasion all the exertions of six beasts,
two of which had been taken from the plow, could not save the
family coach from being imbedded in a quagmire.
Public carriages had recently been much improved. During
the years which immediately followed the Restoration, a dili-
gence ran between London and Oxford in two days.
The pas-
sengers slept at Beaconsfield. At length, in the spring of 1669,
a great and daring innovation was attempted. It was announced
that a vehicle, described as the Flying Coach, would perform the
whole journey between sunrise and sunset. This spirited under-
taking was solemnly considered and sanctioned by the Heads of
the University, and appears to have excited the same sort of in-
terest which is excited in our own time by the opening of a new
railway. The Vice-Chancellor, by a notice affixed in all public
places, prescribed the hour and place of departure. The success
of the experiment was complete. At six in the morning the car-
riage began to move from before the ancient front of All Souls
College; and at seven in the evening the adventurous gentlemen
who had run the first risk were safely deposited at their inn in
London. The emulation of the sister university was moved;
and soon a diligence was set up which in one day carried passen-
gers from Cambridge to the capital. At the close of the reign
of Charles the Second, flying carriages ran thrice a week from
London to the chief towns. But no stage-coach, indeed no stage-
wagon, appears to have proceeded further north than York, or
further west than Exeter. The ordinary day's journey of a flying
coach was about fifty miles in the summer; but in winter, when
the ways were bad and the nights long, little more than thirty.
The Chester coach, the York coach, and the Exeter coach gen-
erally reached London in four days during the fine season, but at
Christmas not till the sixth day. The passengers, six in number,
were all seated in the carriage; for accidents were so frequent
that it would have been most perilous to mount the roof. The
ordinary fare was about twopence halfpenny a mile in summer,
and somewhat more in winter.
This mode of traveling, which by Englishmen of the pres-
ent day would be regarded as insufferably slow, seemed to our
XVI-588


## p. 9394 (#418) ###########################################

9394
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
ancestors wonderfully and indeed alarmingly rapid. In a work
published a few months before the death of Charles the Second,
the flying coaches are extolled as far superior to any similar
vehicles ever known in the world. Their velocity is the subject
of special commendation, and is triumphantly contrasted with
the sluggish pace of the Continental posts. But with boasts like
these was mingled the sound of complaint and invective. The
interests of large classes had been unfavorably affected by the
establishment of the new diligences; and as usual, many per-
sons were, from mere stupidity and obstinacy, disposed to clamor
against the innovation simply because it was an innovation.
was vehemently argued that this mode of conveyance would be
fatal to the breed of horses and to the noble art of horseman-
ship; that the Thames, which had long been an important nursery
of seamen, would cease to be the chief thoroughfare from London.
up to Windsor and down to Gravesend; that saddlers and spur-
riers would be ruined by hundreds; that numerous inns, at which
mounted travelers had been in the habit of stopping, would be
deserted, and would no longer pay any rent; that the new car-
riages were too hot in summer and too cold in winter; that the
passengers were grievously annoyed by invalids and crying child-
ren; that the coach sometimes reached the inn so late that it
was impossible to get supper, and sometimes started so early that
it was impossible to get breakfast. On these grounds it was
gravely recommended that no public coach should be permitted
to have more than four horses, to start oftener than once a week,
or to go more than thirty miles a day. It was hoped that if
this regulation were adopted, all except the sick and the lame
would return to the old mode of traveling. Petitions embodying
such opinions as these were presented to the King in council
from several companies of the City of London, from several pro-
vincial towns, and from the justices of several counties. We
smile at these things. It is not impossible that our descendants,
when they read the history of the opposition offered by cupidity
and prejudice to the improvements of the nineteenth century,
may smile in their turn.
In spite of the attractions of the flying coaches, it was still
usual for men who enjoyed health and vigor, and who were not
incumbered by much baggage, to perform long journeys on
horseback. If a traveler wished to move expeditiously, he rode
post. Fresh saddle-horses and guides were to be procured at


## p. 9395 (#419) ###########################################

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
9395
convenient distances along all the great lines of road. The charge
was threepence a mile for each horse, and fourpence a stage for
the guide. In this manner, when the ways were good, it was
possible to travel, for a considerable time, as rapidly as by any
conveyance known in England, till vehicles were propelled by
steam. There were as yet no post-chaises; nor could those who
rode in their own coaches ordinarily procure a change of horses.
The King, however, and the great officers of State, were able
to command relays. Thus, Charles commonly went in one day
from Whitehall to Newmarket, a distance of about fifty-five miles,
through a level country; and this was thought by his subjects a
proof of great activity. Evelyn performed the same journey in
company with the Lord Treasurer Clifford. The coach was drawn
by six horses, which were changed at Bishop Stortford and again
at Chesterford. The travelers reached Newmarket at night. Such
a mode of conveyance seems to have been considered as a rare
luxury, confined to princes and ministers.
THE HIGHWAYMAN
From the History of England'
WHA
HATEVER might be the way in which a journey was per-
formed, the travelers, unless they were numerous and
well armed, ran considerable risk of being stopped and
plundered. The mounted highwayman, a marauder known to our
generation only from books, was to be found on every main road.
The waste tracts which lay on the great routes near London were
especially haunted by plunderers of this class. Hounslow Heath
on the Great Western Road, and Finchley Common on the Great
Northern Road, were perhaps the most celebrated of these spots.
The Cambridge scholars trembled when they approached Epping
Forest, even in broad daylight. Seamen who had just been paid.
off at Chatham were often compelled to deliver their purses on
Gadshill, celebrated near a hundred years earlier by the greatest
of poets as the scene of the depredations of Falstaff. The public
authorities seem to have been often at a loss how to deal with
the plunderers. At one time it was announced in the Gazette
that several persons, who were strongly suspected of being high-
waymen, but against whom there was not sufficient evidence,
would be paraded at Newgate in riding dresses: their horses


## p.