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Sir H. between the two Governments. Seymour acquitted himself forthwith of the important commission which the Emperor had impressed on him in a long and familiar conversation. And the result showed itself in a correspondence of the most friendly character between the present English Ministers and the Imperial Government."

Challenged by the opposition leaders, Lord Aberdeen has confessed that, in the main, these statements are true; and also, that the Czar did actually communicate his designs, in regard to Turkey, to Sir Robert Peel (and, as Lord John Russell added, to Lord Aberdeen himself, then Foreign Minister), during his visit to England, in 1844. No wonder that such a confession-and, still more, the subsequent publication of the "Confidential Correspondence," upon which we have not space to commemorate-called forth in Parliament the strongest animadversions upon

the conduct of the Ministry; especially as, during the debate on the blue books, the members of the Cabinet again and again solemnly pledged themselves that the Czar had never communicated to them his actual designs upon Turkey, and that they had been innocent dupes of his fraudulent assurances.

In our first extract from the Czar's reply, our readers will observe the words, "before Great Britain had adopted the same line of policy as France." There is a great deal under these words, as we shall immediately show. The Aberdeen Ministry have, of late, been most profuse in their asseverations as to the concord that has prevailed between them and the Government of the French Emperor; but a scrutiny of the blue books shows that the very reverse of this has been the

case.

The only possible deduction from these and suchlike other instances scattered throughout the blue books is, that throughout the whole of last year, nay, down to the very opening of Parliament, we were constantly on the eve of a rupture with the French Government; and it will probably by-andbye be seen that the recall of M. Walewski, the French Ambassador at London, in the third week of November, indicated a much more serious crisis than is ordinarily supposed. We have seen a good many recalls of ambassadors, which were glossed over at the time by the Government, but seldom one which did not actually threaten a rupture of friendly relationship. In truth, nothing but the calm wisdom of the French Emperor, and the strong expression of anti-Russian feeling in Great Britain, carried us safely through the critical period, and disconcerted the schemes of Russia when within a hair's-breadth of their accomplishment. Had France and England quarrelled and separated, then France single-handed would have been forced to succumb before the forces of Absolutism-a Bourbon would have mounted the throne, and the final combination would have been,-all Europe against Great Britain!

Though Sir James Graham now rails in abusive terms at the Czar, it is just a year since he spoke in a

similar strain of the French Emperor. His leading colleagues in the Ministry are politicians of the same stamp. But from our charges against the Coalition Cabinet, we must to a great extent except Lord Palmerston. He and Lord Aberdeen are the antipodes of each other. We did justice to his foreign policy when he first withdrew from the Russell Administration in 1851, and we believe nothing but the necessities of his position induced him to lend even his countenance to the Russian policy of his present colleagues. He remained in office, to avoid still worse contingencies. In December last, the country was not ripe for a new Government, and, by going out, Palmerston would have lost the little influence he had, without the certainty of acquiring a new and firmer position. He is a cautious man, and bides his time. The circumstances attending his suspension of office in December last have never been explained; and a partial mystery still hangs over his actual withdrawal from the Russell Cabinet in 1851. Yet this at least is known, that on the former of these occasions, the ground of his dismissal was his hearty recognition of the Government of Louis Napoleon prince hated by his present colleagues, Lord John Russell and Lord Aberdeen, and reviled by Graham and Wood, but to whose wise policy alone it is that Great Britain and France now stand side by side to front the approaching storm.

a

The present Government have been most reluctantly forced by public opinion to take part against Russia, and we fear they still seek to carry on the contest in so languid a way, as to allow Russia to gain such successes as may still compel Turkey to accede to the Protectorate. Then the Czar will be content, they believe, and war (for a time) at an end. But they need not so deceive themselves. The Turks will go down fighting like heroes. By the sword they won their empire, and with the sword they will defend it. Any one may see that this will be the issue; and it is sheer madness for Lord Aberdeen to go on hoping for a lasting peace, by truckling to the designs of Russia. It may be truly said of the present Ministry, that they "neither know how to make war, nor to keep peace;" and the country, it is easy to see, will not long submit to see our foreign policy conducted by such men. Their

double-dealing in the prosecution of their un-English policy has been unparalleled, and it is all coming forth now to the knowledge of the public. The friend for whom they have done so much, is exposing them. And as the truth is breaking alike upon Parliament and People, a unanimous sentiment of bitter indignation is arising in the country. But let both Parliament and People be calm. Let them not injure themselves-injure England - injure freedom from a mere wish to be avenged on "a false Ministry.” The Czar does nothing without an object. He counts upon the ebb and flow of popular feeling in this country, as one of his elements of success. are no longer, as during the last war, led by a far-seeing aristocratic Government, patient of present burdens or reverses, for the sake of carrying the grand point at last. Our Government is now based chiefly upon the Tenpounders. Now, more than ever, we are

66

We

a nation of shopkeepers," exhibiting every year more and more an "ignorant impatience of taxation." Well, then, see how this affects our prospects in the coming struggle. The nation calls out rightly at present for bold war; but they grievously miscalculate the strength of the foe. Although there are few people who would endorse Cobden's nonsense about "crumpling up" the Czar, still the general public greatly underrate the actual power of their adversary. Ignorant or forgetful of the history of the last war, they talk most slightingly of the strength and spirit of the Russian armies, as if these troops had not carried the Russian eagles in triumph over hardfought fields in Italy, Switzerland, and Germany; and as if, even at the close of a long and bloody war, the strength of the Russian empire did not suffice to send two hundred thousand men to invade France and storm Paris. Now, the upshot of this will be, that these popular dreams of brilliant and speedy success will not be realised. Depression will follow. The people will find that we cannot conquer peace so easily as they bargained for. At first, when effective success was within our reach, the Ministry would not let us have war; byand-bye the Czar and his allies, flushed with success, may not let us have peace. In such circumstances, the Czar reckons, the "nation of shopkeepers" will lose their wisdom and

equanimity. When they see the taxes rising higher and higher, with no success to our arms-Turkey going down, and Germany Russianised, then, the Czar calculates, the people will burst into ravings against the Government, and madly accuse them of treachery and all manner of things,-being stung into irritation alike by the progress of Russian absolutism, and by the heavy taxation so fruitlessly misspent.

It is because we perceive the probability of some such crisis in the war as this, that we desire betimes to utter a word of warning. Let the people be advised. If they give way like children thus, if they become petulant and untractable upon every reverse, they will be playing directly into the hands of their arch-enemy. We say the Czar counts upon these ebbs and flows of popular passion as his best allies. And, depend upon it, it is for this that he now exposes the duplicity of the British Government, and their early complicity with himself. IIe holds them up to the distrust and indignation of the country in order the more effectually to paralyse us. For long he supported them-as long, that is to say, as they adhered to his policy; but no sooner does he find them driven from their old views by the might of popular opinion, than he sets himself to sap their power, and throw the country into dissension and commotion.

Let the British people remember this truth-and the state of Continental Europe is every day more expressly declaring it Russia is more to be feared for her policy than for her arms. Her present game is, to set Courts and Peoples at loggerheads, and so make one or both of them to play into her hands. She is winning over the Austrian and Prussian Courts, at the expense of their peoples. She will win, in a similar fashion, the German Princes, in utter opposition to the sentiments of the German race, -in Italy she will gain all the Courts save Piedmont; and, by means of Carlist and other rebellions, she will find ample work for Spain and Portugal, as well as distraction for the other Western Powers. But there are two Courts which, she now knows, she cannot gain-namely, those of Britain and France (although certainly, nothing but the weight of popular feeling saved our shortsighted Cabinet from falling into the Russian snares). Against those Courts, therefore, she is prepared to employ her usual tac

tics-in France, by fomenting Legiti mist intrigues; and inEngland by sowing distrust between the Cabinet and the people. Do not let our statesmen slight this danger. It is imminent, because it is natural, because the Cabinet have unfortunately given far too much cause for this mistrust.

We trust, however, that the sober strength of the British character will suffice to keep the country free from this peril. We would say to our countrymen-Do not let past error on the part of our statesmen irritate us into forgetfulness of the national interests. We do not wish to see any entire change of Ministry. Let the Cabinet be remodelled -or remodel itself. Clarendon is a mere ccho, and therefore not much to be minded; but we cannot see how the Premier can remain in office, without perilling that mainstay of all Governments the confidence of the people. Let the Premier come out, therefore; and if there be any other "Russians" in the camp, whether leaders or subalterns, let them come out also. We must, as the first necessity of our position, have a Government possessing the confidence of the country; and we must have one that perceives the real nature of the contest, as on the eve of becoming one between Absolutism and popular Government. - between Russianism and civilisation. Palmerston knows this, therefore let him be the chief. He, moreover, is trusted by the country,

and that, at present, is of prime importance. We might mention Lord Stratford de Redcliffe as a suitable ally for such a Premier, and equally well known for his anti-Russian sentiments to supersede Clarendon in the Foreign Office. We are not desirous of changes we wish to avoid them; nevertheless, in war, the financial management of a country is every whit as important as the actual guidance of its armies; and to our other proposed changes, therefore, we must add, the prescient Disraeli, vice the shortsighted and incompetent Gladstone.

Red-tapeism has had its day-the last twelvemonth of abortive diplomacy has rung its knell. What the nation now wants, is its great minds in all departments. And, although the struggle must roll on for some time yet before the stirred nation can put forth its giants, let us at least seize upon those we already have, and place them in the van of the battle.

His

Or the comic actors immediately following the age of Garrick, and disci. ples of his school, there were none more celebrated than Quick and Edwin, of each of whom there are four portraits in character, in this collection. Their styles and attributes were totally dif ferent. Quick was little, pert, fidgety, and important, with a strut like a turkey-cock, and short, sharp, epigrammatic turns of humour, peculiar to himself. He was a favourite actor with George III., who always asked to have him in the bill when he commanded a play. His manner was dry, not richly fraught with humour, but quaint and whimsical, with an oddity of voice which invariably produced effect. principal excellence lay in old men. Isaac Mendoza, in the Duenna, seems to have been his best part. Edwin's acting was of a more exuberant and racy character, combining the eccentricities of Weston and Shuter. He was one of those who, in playing clowns, offended against the canon of Shakspeare by saying more than was set down for them. He took more liberties with his text and audience than either Nokes or Penkethman did before him, or Liston and John Reeve long after. He was not so good an actor as either Quick or Parsons, but he gained more applause than either ; sometimes by overflowing humour, but frequently by fortunate extravagance. Profound critics called him a mere mannerist. Let those who understand explain the term. If it means an artist who performs his work after a particular manner, the class, we suspect, will be found as numerous as the whole family of nature herself. Edwin's reputation required the support of original characters, written expressly for his peculiar vein. When an old comedy was revived, there was always a character in it exactly measured for Quick or Parsons, but not one that fitted Edwin. O'Keeffe speaks less favourably of him than might have been expected, for no actor and author were ever under greater mutual obligations. Edwin owed much of his fame to the parts

VOL. XLIII.-NO. CCLVI.

which O'Keeffe wrote for him; and of O'Keeffe it had been ludicrously said, that when Edwin died, O'Keeffe would be damned. Quick lived up to eightythree, frugal, independent, and habitually temperate. Edwin died at fortytwo, broken down by systematic drunk

enness.

How many sons of genius have yielded to the same temptation! Boaden says:-"This singular being was the absolute victim of sottish in. temperance. I have seen him brought to the stage-door at the bottom of a chaise, senseless and motionless. Brandon, on these occasions, was the practising physician of the theatre. If the clothes could be put on him, and he was pushed on to the lamps, he rubbed his stupid eyes for a minute, consciousness and brilliant humour awakened together, and his acting seemed only the richer for the bestial indulgence that had overwhelmed him."

This portrait of Jack Johnstone, as Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan, by Sir M. A. Shee, is not only a fine painting, but an admirable likeness. Whether in or out of his stage-clothes, Johnstone was a remarkably handsome man, with a bearing so innately gentleman-like, that it was impossible, by any external travesty, to change him into a clown. But his constitutional humour made up for that strange deficiency in his rustics, a want of natural vulgarity. His acting was ease personified, without the slightest appearance of art or labour. In a military character, or a travelled Irish gentleman, he stood above all rivalry; but Tyrone Power excelled him in rollicking, dare-devil assumptions, which admitted of greater breadth, and depended more on physical elasticity and untiring spirits. In their drunken men both were equally happy, and hit the difficult point of merriment without producing disgust. Irish Johnstone, as he was usually called, was one of the pleasantest table-companions that ever gladdened society. tired in 1820, having realised a handsome fortune, and lived to see his eighty-first birthday another emi

He re

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nent instance, that the practise of the art histrionic is in itself highly condu cive to health, happiness, and longe vity. The true spirit of Irish fun and national eccentricity appears, by general consent, to have died with Johnstone and Power. Of some later representatives, the less that is said the better.

We must ascend now to the top of the staircase, to look at a large painting by Matthew Brown, representing the last scene of The Gamester, with the death of Beverley. This was not in the Mathews' gallery, but a presentation to the Club from the late M. M. Zachary, Esq. The picture, admirably finished, in which the figures are of the full life size, was found, neglected and smoke-dried, in a back room in the old Bush Hotel at Bristol. How it got there has not been traced. The portraits are Pope and Mrs. Pope, Mrs. Wells (more celebrated for beauty than talent), and Hull; as Beverley, Mrs. Beverley, Charlotte and Jarvis. By a careless oversight, the artist has omitted Lewson, who is indispensable to the scene, and has introduced one or two subordinates who have no business there at all. A close examination shows that the head of Hull has been cut out, and the features of Munden interpolated in its place. The mention of this rare comedian brings us down again to look at him in nine different impressions, as scattered through the rooms below. Observe him first in his own character and costume, a fine portrait by Sir M. A. Shee, presented to the Club by Mr. Macready. We have him again in groups and single characters, by Zoffany, Opie, Dewilde, Clint, and Turneau. The scene from Lock and Key exhibits him to the life, as old Brummagem. Munden came out in 1790, at Covent-garden, and made his last appearance at Drury-lane in 1824. Reader, he was a great actor, with the peculiar merit of playing serious old men as well as he did comic ones. His Captain Bertram and old Dornton were nearly as good as his Sir Francis Gripe and Sir Abel Handy. His Marall was inimitable, and his Nipperkin and Christopher Sly never to be forgotten. The old Spanish proverb says,

He who has not seen Seville has lost a wonder." So have you lost a treat, such as you will never have provided for you again, if you began to frequent playhouses after Joseph Munden had

departed. You are as unlucky as Darteneuf, the great epicure, who died just before turtle was imported from the West Indies. Shall we attempt to describe this incomparable comedian and his vagaries? If we were to write for an hundred years, we could not emulate the brilliant sentences of "Elia" (Charles Lamb); so let us even transcribe them for the better edification of those who like to read of what they can never hope to see:-"Not many nights ago, we had come home from seeing this extraordinary performer in Cockletop; and when we retired to our pillow, his whimsical image still stuck by us in such a manner as to threaten sleep. No sooner did we fall into slumbers, than the same image, only more perplexing, assailed us in the shape of dreams. Not one Munden, but five hundred, were dancing before us, like the faces which, whether you will or no, come when you have been taking opium all the strange combinations which this strangest of all strange mortals ever shot his proper countenance into, from the day he came commissioned to dry up the tears of the town, for the loss of the now almost forgotten Edwin. O for the power of the pencil to have fixed them when we awoke! There is one face of Farley, one face of Knight, one face (but what a one it is!) of Liston; but Munden has none that you can properly pin down and call his. When you think he has exhausted his battery of looks, in unaccountable warfare with your gravity, suddenly he sprouts out an entirely new set of features, like Hydra. He is not one, but legion; not so much a comedian, as a company. If his name could be multiplied like his countenance, it might fill a playbill. He, and he alone, literally makes fuces. Applied to any other person, the phrase is a mere figure, denoting certain modifications of the human visage. Out of some invisible wardrobe he dips for faces as his friend Suett used for wigs, and fetches them out as easily. We should not be surprised to see him some day put out the head of a race-horse, or come forth a pewit, or lapwing, some feathered metamorphosis. We have seen this gifted actor in Sir Christopher Curry, or in Old Dornton, diffuse a glow of sentiment which has made the pulse of a crowded theatre beat like that of one man, when he has come in aid of the pulpit, doing good to the moral heart