let the effect be what it might, to elucidate his views. He thought that the residents were to some extent right (loud marks of disapprobation) in their objections to allow the present bridge to be the means of communication between Putney and Fulham. (Cries of "the man's an idiot," here interrupted the gentleman.) He was sorry if the company were not satisfied with his mental qualifications; he assured them that it would give him equal pleasure with themselves if he had been more liberally endowed with reason; he did'nt think he was an idiot, however; but still he had some doubt upon the subject; one man, indeed, had gone to the length of calling him a fool, because he had happened to disagree with him; but he hardly thought that the man was justified. in going to such a length as that. More

Here the policeman and the summoning officer apparently recommenced their affray outside, and temporarily interrupted the gentleman's speech, but it was unanimously agreed to let them fight it out, this time, and the speaker resumed

"He thought it was a pity that the shareholders had not accepted the offer of the Water Company, at the time it was purposed to build a new bridge to convey the water pipes, as well as passengers and vehicle traffic; he could not but think that their exorbitant claims had deprived them of an opportunity of benefiting themselves, as well as removing an obvious eye-sore to all visitors or residents, and causing the erection of a new aqueduct, which did not itself add to the beauty of the view. (Loud hisses.) He was very sorry, very sorry, indeed, if he had said anything to offend the meeting, but those were his views on the subject; and a book he had once read told him that he must do what he thought right if he really wished to be a good young man, which was his sincere aim. He was certain that all the propping up and repairing the Bridge could only last a year or two more, and it seemed to him that every part of it had been renewed once in every three months since he recollected, and the amount of paint and tar spent upon it was perfectly disgraceful; he

A remarkably horsey, florid man, now cut short the speech of him of the weak

eye, by a short and vehement oration, that betrayed considerable excitement and a fair knowledge of slang. He said that he couldn't stand it no longer, tha the couldn't; to hear that hignorant hass opposite talking like a fool, as he admitted he was'nt far off, was too much for flesh and blood to stand. Wot did he mean by saying their claim was 'sorbitant, and that the bridge ought to be pulled down, and a hackeduct built in its place. Wot! were they to play second fiddle to a hackeduct? If the thing wanted to j'ine them, why let it, if it'd pay well for it; they could take the whole on it in, and then be upright enough; but as to their jining the hackeduct, the man who would vote for that must, as he said afore, be a fool. With regard to young Pick being drowned, it was'nt his business, a-course not; and he'd defy anyone to make them pay for the accident; a'course, railway, omnibus, and steam-boat companies. could be made to pay heavy damages, if their carelessness or neglect caused a accident, but they were safe any way; 'cos why, lucky for them, the Government would'nt see it in the light the people did. The fool opposite had said. as the rest of the shareholders was thieves, and murderers, and fools for acting

The weak-eyed youth dissented gently; he intimated that the honourable shareholder had mistaken him ; his (the H. S.'s) idiosyncracy appeared

to

Here the florid gentleman commenced deliberately to crawl over the rafters towards the speaker, who stopped, apparently fascinated by the baleful glitter in the former's eye; to the latter's intense disappointment, however, he was unable to reach his opponent; he therefore informed him in a loud voice that if he would only oblige him by calling him by that name again, he would have the pleasure "of punching his head until he couldn't see;" he would forgive him this time, for one or two reasons-one of which was the difficulty of crossing the vacancy between. them; but he imagined that the pleasure was only deferred until they met upon terra firma.

This remark nearly broke up the harmony of the evening; but it was restored by the fair chairman calling the meeting

to order, as a gentleman wished to address them before they passed a resolution. At this, another of "the ancients" commenced by giving it as his opinion that manners had not improved since his youth, and that the assembly seemed rather inclined to quarrel than attend to business. "He thought that the first two shareholders who had spoken had represented the feeling of the meeting; and it was needless for him to repeat what had been already so ably advanced; he was at the moment suffering from the effects of a nail, presumably rusty, that had insinuated itself into his body, after piercing his outer garments, and therefore was not in as comfortable a position as he might be to express his views, but he thought it was only his duty to impress on the minds of the meeting how much they were beholden to the fair sex, who had deigned to honour the meeting with their presence."

Here the gentleman, while making apparently agonising contortions to remove the nail from his epidermis, lost his hold on the rafter, and came down with a run into the lap of the fair chairman, like Jupiter into Danäe's arms-not in a shower of gold, however.

This nearly finished the business of the assembly; but two or three excited females insisted upon rising to return thanks to the last speaker; but they were ungallantly hissed down by the male members. The chairman said that as they were all of the opinion that they (the shareholders) were all public benefactors, praiseworthy members of society, and humane and christianlike beings; all that remained to do was to pass a resolution: she would, therefore, propose this: "That this meeting do persist in opposing any design to rear a new bridge, under any circumstances whatever; being perfectly conscious that they are irresponsible for any accidents that have happened or may happen; that no pecuniary offer will be entertained, unless it exceed £200,000; and that the residents are perfectly welcome to build any other bridge they like, without opposition, if they have so strong a desire for a new one; but that they shall not interfere, on any pretext, with the one under consideration." This resolution was carried unanimously, with the exception of the voice of the

gentleman with the fishy optics, which raised a feeble objection, but was outnumbered by his fellows. The meeting then separated peaceably, returning to town by a stage-coach, that had been discovered in an old yard, and restored for the use of the Putney Bridge Shareholders, as being consonant with their antiquated tastes. "The myrmidon had obtained a decisive victory over the local official, and carried away his collection of coins as a trophy; the last that was seen of the latter, he was sitting in the mud of the river, like Marius in the ruins of Carthage, mourning over his vanished riches, and making vows of frightful vengeance.

[We will not vouch for the truth of the above report, not having been present ourselves at the meeting; but as it is near what we should have expected to have taken place at such an assembly, we have printed it; with the reservation that we do not hold ourselves responsible for its correctness; but simply, "tell the tale as it was told to us."]

man

OMNIANA.

"De rebus omnibus et quibusdam aliis.”

"GREATNESS"-How vague is this much used term! with what unequal propriety is it variously applied by different men-nay, by the same men under different circumstances and at different times! What a Protaan shape does the idea of a "great conjure up! What is he? what is his greatness? who calls him a great man?" How long has he been acknowledged as a great man?" does he, or did he, when among his fellow-beings, himself feel conscious that he is, or was, a 'great man?"-are questions we should ask ourselves solemnly and seriously before we give our verdict in his favour.

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and dispassionate estimate; when the mind is cleared of the mists that prejudices, whether innate, formed by education, by society, or by modes and habits of thought spread over it, bears unanimous testimony as to his true and real greatness?

It is moral greatness alone that can claim and receive such and so great a worship; it is that greatness of which mankind have had but one perfect exemplar; that greatness which has ennobled the existence of

or

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many who have been but among the world's little ones, 66 scarce heard of half a mile from home;" that greatness of which the so-called "Heathen" world has presented many so bright instances, to the wonder and shame of those who are called by a higher name; that greatness which "MAN stamps a higher title than "King "Kaiser;" which the slave who, like Epictetus, possesses, is higher than the lord who owns him; and the lord who lacks is lower than his slave; it is that greatness, in fine, which is synonymous with goodnessfor he alone is truly great who is greatly good. Meanwhile, the world goes on intoxicating itself with false views of what it calls greatness; madly straining in admiration of some "" great military charactersome great literary character, or some great "scientific character (that is, one who caters largely to our physical wants directly or indirectly, and how naturally does such an one seem great to us!) or some great professor of the art of fooling away time (as dancer, singer, or what not)—or even some great physical character (a man who can eat or drink ten times as much as most men; or man who can live without eating or drinking ;* man who is ten times as big or ten times as small as most men, or ten times as strong; or, any way, ten times nearer an animal than most men)—or, and we beg pardon for forgetting some great political character (that is juggler, who never forgets to take care of himself), or to end the sketch of the World's great ones -some (proh! pudor) "great man of

wealth.

These are the world's gods. Yes! these are the "great ones of the earth." Verily we are sick of the term "great man;" so sad, so serious, and yet withal so ludicrous, are the images conjured. Why, in our own day, we have had the "great Mr. Hudson" (quotha) the great railway king; and we have had General Tom Thumb, who is by

Like the Faquir at Runjeet Singh's Court. (See note in Sharon Turner's "History of the World.")

no means not a

"great

man in his way, or else the world is very little-one or the other; then we have had the " great " bottle conjurer (I never saw him; is he the fellow that used to jump into a quart bottle at the London theatres, and offered to jump into a pint one, if the audience would pay double price?)

Sir," said a singular-looking individual, who was warming his " posterior," before the coffee-room fire, one evening-(a monopolist evidently), "Sir !" said he, to the only other occupant of the room, engaged in quietly reading the paper; "do you know who I am ?" "No, Sir, I have not that honour!" "Sir! I am the great Mr. Twamley, who invented the new flood-gate iron!" (This great man's invention consisted in putting a sliding door, like a flood-gate, to an ironing box! flat irons having till then been used, or box irons with a door and bolt. Well, this was the "great" Mr. Twamley.

Still more ludicrous; Brydone relates that in passing some river in Italy, a passenger in the boat remarked: "that 'great' man, Julius Cæsar, crossed this river." "He must have been a 'great' man," said one of the boatmen, "for the river is thirty feet deep in some places!" Here's another instance. Spence, in his "Anecdotes of Pope," tells us. "He," (Mr. Pope) was in Sir Godfrey Kneller's study one day, when the great painter's nephew, who was a Guinea trader, came in. Nephew," said Kneller, "you have the honour of seeing the two greatest men in the world." "I don't know how great you may be," said the slave trader, "but I don't like your looks; I've often bought a man much better than both of you together, all muscle and bone, for ten guineas!"

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The poet Campbell, while intent on an old book-stall one day, overheard a customer enquiring of the shopkeeper if he had Mr. Campbell's work? "Yes, Sir," was the answer, handing the "Pleasures of Hope." "Oh! this is a poetry book-I mean the great Mr. Campbell, the African missionary!" The poet walked musingly away, as he asked himself "and what is fame ?"

Was not the great Carthaginian a "great" man?

"I, demens, et sævas curre per Alpes, Ut pueris placeas, et declamatio fias!" Or Cæsar, who is recorded to have slain in battle one million one hundred and ninety-two thousand men ; to say nothing of the civil wars.

"Imperial Cæsar, dead and turned to clay,

May stop a hole to keep the wind away!" Or Alexander the "Great;" who, when he had, as he foolishly imagined, conquered the whole world, wept because there were no more worlds for him to conquer-that is, to enslave or destroy.

Or the great Corsican, who murdered D'Enghien, shot a bookseller, poisoned his troops in Syria, ran away from his army in Russia, and left a legacy to the man who had attempted to assassinate his open enemy? Was not the hero of Blenheim a "great man? who levied contributions from the ladies that fell in love with him; made a private purse by plundering the commissariat department of his army; and cheated a Dean out of sixpence at cards under pretence of hiring a chair, and after all walked home. Was not the great restorer of Philosophy a great man who brought to the block his earliest benefactor, who wriggled himself into office by the most fulsome adulation of the greatest pedant that ever wore a crown, and who filled the courts of justice with corruption.

But, taking our leave of these so-called great men, how refreshing it is to turn to the character of a Socrates, that truly great man; how pure, how blameless, how useful his life and actions! how touching and yet how characteristic his end! Who can read that last sad scene unmoved with pity, love, and veneration of such goodness, piety, wisdom, real greatness? Who can doubt that such a fervent aspiration after virtue, such an earnest search after truth, such an honest combat with doubt and error, was crowned, though even only at his last faint moments, with that revelation which he so longingly panted after; in search of which his gentle life-long was spent, and in calm hope of which he died?

How are the memories of such truly great men as Washington, Kosciusko, Andrew Höfer, and our own John Hampden, imperishably embalmed in the innermost shrines of our heart of hearts! How greatly do they yet live! and, "being dead, yet speak!" A Howard, in his "circumnaviga

tion of charity," as Burke describes it, how great!

But to end let us confess with Sir William Jones: "If I am asked who is the greatest man, I answer the best; and if I am required to say who is the best, I reply he that has deserved most of his fellow creatures." And, with W. S. Landor, "The great man is he who hath nothing to fear and nothing to hope from another. It is he who, while he demonstrates the iniquity of the laws, and is able to correct them, yet obeys them peaceably; who looks on the ambitious both as weak and fraudulent; who hath no disposition or occasion for any kind of deceit; no reason for being or for appearing different from what he is; and who can call together the most select company (his own thoughts) whenever he pleases."

"And this I wolde ye shulde understande,

I have seen women five hundred thousande;
And oft with them have long time tarried;
Yet in all places where I have ben,
Of all the women that I have sene,

I never saw nor knew in my consciens,
Any one woman out of patiens."

This is at once denounced as a falsehood by all the others, and the Pedler says:

"Take thre of the youngest, and thre of the oldest,

Thre of the warmest, and thre of the coldest,
Thre of the wysest, and thre of the shrewdest,
Thre of the chastest, and thre of the loosest,
Thre of the lowest, and thre of the hyest,
Thre of the farthest, and thre of the nyest,
Thre of the fairest, and thre of the maddest,
Thre of the foulest, and thre of the saddest;
And when all these thres be had asonder,
Of eche thre, two justly by nomber,
Shall be found shrews, except thys fall,
That ye hap to find them shrews all."

Now what could have led this old fellow to write in such a strain? Could he have thought such a tirade would ever be taken for truth? Did he believe it himself?-or did our ancestors ever hold such notions? Now, it is possible, some one may say, "Then why did you rout out such rubbish? Let it lie in its ancient obscurity."

Very well. So be it! Yet 'tis a curious production; better things are certainly to be found in our Old Dramatists; yet, just to see how we moderns have improved, we will cast a glance over our shoulder now and then; if it is but to enjoy a laugh at those that are passed by.

Now, the modern poets, although they show great partiality for particular characters, have not given a good general eulogy of the "fair sex," they qualify their admiration, which may be illustrated by Sir Walter Scott's wellknown lines:

"Oh woman! in our hour of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel, thou!"

which every one feels is not half what might be said on the subject. They (the modern poets) have not been in earnest in writing upon woman; and perhaps their personal experiences have not been altogether fortunate.

This may be inferred from certain incidents which are difficult to account for under any other supposition than that poets have not, as a rule, been happy as married men. Thus, Shakespeare, after sundry other bequests in his will, inserts the following:

"Item, I give unto my wife my second best bed with the furniture."

The only mention of his wife in his will; which, in spite of what some partial critics have sought to maintain, assuredly does not appear as if he had any very great regard for her whom it would be most natural to suppose stood highest in his affections and esteem.

Then Milton's separation from his wife, does not speak favourably for his domestic happiness.

The marriage of Dryden was attended with much misery and discontent; he was continually abusing the marriage state, and wished his wife were an

Almanack, that he might change her once a year!

The experience of Addison was just as unhappy; he "married discord in a noble wife;" and though he was of an amiable disposition, was none the less sensible of his misfortune.

More recently, Byron may be instanced; and, in our own day, Bulwer, as being in much the same predicament.

Pope, and all the other bachelors, would form a "goodly train," but they shall be left out, as they ought to be.

Are, then, the beautiful female creations of Shakespeare to be accounted as mere ideal images? Is not Milton's Eve true flesh and blood? Did Dryden, Addison, Byron, Bulwer, all conjure up images merely to please their own fancy, and the fancy of others? And has the sneer, "Oh, that's poetry!" (as if, therefore, 'twere false) some foundation? Was Petrarch's "Laura" all a shadow, an imaginary love; and are Shakespeare's sonnets addressed to some like phantoms of the brain?

Perhaps there is too much reason to suppose that this was the case; poets seem, certainly, either very unfortunate in their choice, or very indifferent husbands; to think that any of the faults rested with their wives, is so very absurd, as not to be worth wasting a word

upon.

As it is, the slander of old Heywood has not been put down; a great poet has not afforded us a generous, truthful, and satisfactory eulogy of the "fair sex;" it remains yet to be accomplished.

Great excuse, perhaps, should be made on both sides; the poet, "of imagination, all complete," loves an angel, but marries a woman; he is eccentric and capricious-no woman ever understands or sympathises with eccentricity; his day-dream is not realised, and he returns to the creature of his imagination.

She is mistaken, too-her expectations remain unrealised. She imagined herself the adored, and loved him because he "first loved her;" but she awakes to find him man, and therefore selfish, vain, and weak.

But the praise which belongs to woman, has never been accorded to a great poet, and the auspicious task remains yet to some champion of dames "gifted with poetic fire."