2 APRIL 1836, Page 16

RAUMER'S ENGLAND IN 1835.

THE fame of FREDERICK VON RAUMER is established in Germany by a variety of historical works upon the Middle Ages. Their

character has given him in sonic sense a European reputation ;

but he is chiefly known in England by the Illustrations of the History of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, which Lord FRANCIS EGERTON translated. Familiar from his early youth

with English literature and English institutions, RAUMER appears to have long entertained a desire to visit this country, which he fulfilled at the commencement of the past year, in order to pursue his historical researches amongst our public archives preparatory to finishing the " New History of Modern Europe." His intro- ductions, his pursuits, and his reputation, procured him access to the best society of the Metropolis ; but, with the simplicity of a German and the sagacity of a practical scholar anxious to study the people, he was far from confining himself to the great and fashionable during his sojourn in London. Neither sccial pecu- liarities nor the incidents and circumstances from which a visiter must form his judgment as to the national character were, how-

ever, sufficient to occupy the attention of RAUMER. Accustomed

to historical investigation, he was naturally led to inquire into our institutions and our financial and economical condition, as well as into the causes which have produced, retarded, or influenced there. The same habits, and perhaps the interest attached to English affairs in Germany, induced him closely to regard public events and political parties, and to reflect, to speculate, and to prophesy upon what was passing about him. When, on the completion of his researches at the Museum and the State Paper Office, he took a hasty tour through the great Northern and Midland manufacturing districts, as well as through parts of Scotland and Ireland, the same habits still continued, although his views were

of necessity more rapid. What in this way he saw, heard, thought,

or learned, he despatched daily, or at very brief intervals, to friends in Germany. These letters—written, as we gather from some in- cidental passages, with a view to publication—were collected and

published on the author's return to the Continent. Speculating on the probable interest they would excite, Von RAUMER took

the precaution to secure a translator in the accomplished Mrs.

AUSTIN, and a publisher in Mr. MURRAY. The exigencies of trade, which made profit and early publication inseparable things,

in some measure foiled the writer's wish ; for they rendered it necessary to submit the third volume to another hand. This necessary haste, we imagine too, in spite of the disclaimer, has

induced Mrs. AUSTIN to waive the power which RAUMER con- ferred upon her, of omitting statistics and other information that might be trite to Englishmen : she was in too great a hurry to abridge.

Of the Continental value and interest of the Letters we cannot pretend to speak. Looking at the number of the facts and the quan- tity of information they contain, the good sense, sobriety, and impar-

tiality of their author, and the general ignorance respecting Eng- land that appears to prevail abroad, we should imagine them useful -and valuable. Judged by an English standard, they do not bear out the expectation that was formed of them, nor will they raise the

writer's reputation. The elevation of his mind, and a due respect

for himself and the delicacies of private hospitality, prevented RAUMER from indulging in petty and personal details; whilst his

previous studies have somewhat unfitted him for the portraiture of

individuals or things. Hence, his sketches of every-day, matters, however true, are too general to be very striking, unless they have something intrinsic which either enables the writer to deduce a general conclusion from the specific instance, or affords the oppor-

tunity of showing the impression that English matters make on an enlightened foreigner. A similar remark may be extended to many of his observations on public affairs. He is too abstract and mystical on practical points. He cannot forget his trade of

historiker," but applies the same disposition of mind to on dits and party struggles as he would to the events of past ages; which is making a part a whole, or quoting the Eighth Commandment to a thief breaking into your house. Writing, moreover, to Ger- man friends, who seem to have had no knowledge of English statistics, he crams his letters with facts and tables, which, how- ever new to them, are to us more tedious than a twice-told tale. He is also too discursive and too disquisitional, and rather too argumentative on trifles which were not worth the labour bestowed upon them. The book, in short, wants wholeness, strength, and character; its variety of subject rather jars than contrasts; and although the rapid and perhaps hurried manner in which the letters were written may account for many of these defects, this remark excuses the author rather than his work, which must be judged as it is. This criticism only applies to the Letters as a whole. There are an infinite number of passages which exhibit the penetrating and sagacious inquirer looking at the affairs of men, or the intel- ligent and accomplished critic examining matters of art and taste. Extracts, however, will show the character of the better parts more satisfactorily than any description. Here are some of his imprea. sions of external objects and social manners.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF rscLANn.

When I came on deck early on the 2241, we had already left the North Fore land and Margate behind us; on (me side lay the Island of Sheppy, with its wooded hills, and shortly after the somewhat lower coast of Essex came i sight. Vessels of every kind swarmed around us like sea-birds; but when w reached Gravesend, their number increased co much, and the beauty of the nearer and richly-cultivated shores became so much greater, that I was involon tardy overcome by wonder and emotion. Recollections of the gradual upwara course by which this happy island had for eighteen centuries been advancing to a pitch of elevation unmatched in the history of the world—of the deeds and the sufferings, the exertions and the errors, the wars and the conquests, of her kings, her barons, her churchmen, and her people—all conic croweing upon me. I enjoyed the delight of that high and generous enthusiasm which the ordinary incidents of life cannot call forth, and my whole journey seemed to me to be justified and rewarded by this single hour. But this was only rendered possible by my having been fur years at home in England, and my having at- tuned the strings of my head and heart for this ./Eolian touch of external impressions, by solitary historic labour. I was much moved by the sight of Tilbury Fort, where, in 1588, the high-hearted Elizabeth assembled and encouraged her troops, and thus caused the overthrow of Spain and a new organization of the world.

From Tilbury to Woolwich the banks of the Thames are bare ; from Woolwich to Greenwich there are increasing signs of industry and cultivation ; until, on ar- riving at the Docks, you are borne along through absolute forests of ships. Com- pared with this, any thing of the kind that I have ever seen at Havre, Bordeaux, or Marseilles, is like a single room cut out of this immeasurable palace. It is true that here, as in Paris, the buildings are, at first sight, in no respect strik- ing; but their very peculiarities show a definite practical aim, which distin- guishes them from indinary buildings, and gives them an interest of their own. If, however, the predominancy of mere utility and convenience, to the neglect of all considerations of beauty, be objected to English architecture, this crowd of ships is so far more striking and important a feature in the view, that all those of the land appear insignificant.

Here one sees that London is the real capital of the world—not Paris, spite of the pretensions of its journalists and coteries. Paris is more preeminently the Town, Germany the Country, but London alone is entitled to talk of being the World.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF LONDON.

As to the first impression made by the city, the houses, the shops, &c. I can tell you much, and of a very favourable kind. Extent, circumference, quan- tity, are certainly by no means the measure of value or of excellence (either in cities or in art or science); hut, in this instance, the quantity, which surpasses that of all other cities in Europe, or indeed in the world, is of itself in the highest degree remarkable and imposing. Add to this, that in and with the the quantity of London the quality also displays itself. Thus, for example, you perceive wealth growing out of the most varied and complicated activity, which demands and exercises both body and mind ; you perceive the talent of acquiring and of enjoying ; the security of property, widely diffused and deeply routed amid these masses. Destruction and decline are indeed the lot of every thing human ; but oaks take root, grow, and endure, somewhat differently from nni5hraoms. Does not Rome still stand, after thousands of years of decay? was not her second life still more pregnant and powerful than her first? And what has not Paris withstood ? whereas London has hardly known the touch of calamity. When our Radicals and our Conservatives prophesy England's decline with such easy confidence, because they have no other measure than the false one they take from France, au Englishman, nay, eveu 1, may say Stat male sots ; and may add the prayer, esto popetua !

ENGLISH POLITENESi.

I have purposely risked information of all kinds of people of every class, from the most elegant-looking down to coal-heavers and errand-boys ; and, in every instance, it was given with a readiness, fulness, and accuracy, such as it is difficult for a foreigner to find in any other country. Some even accom- panied me, without asking for or thinking of any pecuniary reward ; and, on one occasion, a man who had told me left, by mistake, iustead of right, ran after me to correct his error.

ENGLISH WEALTH.

There was a countless train of equipages yesterday in Hyde Park ; the same in Regent's Park, and God knows were else; and yet, on an average, no one keeps a carriage who has not WOO/. a year to spend. In comparison with the affluence which manifests itself here, the whole Continent seems poverty-stricken. Such wealth is very imposing, inasmuch as it is combined with so much indus- try, and is indeed chiefly its alining. A combination of poverty and high- mindedness may have a very good effect on the stage, but in every-day life the union of affluence and high-mindedness is far more " comfortable.,

ENGLISH LADIES.

The English ladies are in general represented as mute, stiff, cold, prudisl and praised only for their beauty. To the last I have already done justice; but the same justice calls on me positively to contradict the other parts of the description. In the first place, most of the ladies are very well informed ; so that the conversation is by no means confined (as is very often the case in Italy) to trivial compliments and commonplace. I am inclined also to affirm that the English women have more social animation, a more engaging versati- lity, than the men. As soon as my imperfect knowledge of the language allowed me to express but half a thought, or any feeling, I found them ready to I comprehend and meet it, and that in such a lively, cheerful, natural manner, that I cannot conceive any intercourse more agreeable; not a trace of stiffness, affected dignity, or insipid coquetry, but the just, positive, sound medium between two extremes. The same may be said of their dress. It is, on the whole, more simple than the German and French ; nay, there appears per- haps, now and then, a certain indifference to the petty arts of the toilet : on the other band, it is very seldom that you see them dressed up and bedizened. You say, perhaps, that I am partial : with them I am, at least, very disinte- restedly so; that is to say, I find the English ladies amiable, though none of them have returned, or could return, the compliment to an old devourer of manuscripts (Abel Remusat called me Bibliophage) like myself.

Enough of the impressions produced by external objects. We will select one or two passages that partake more of criticism, or of practical political economy.

BUCKINGHAM PALACE.

Yesterday, in company with Mr. D— and several other persons, I visited Buckingham House, the King's new palace, in St. James's Park. Many objections might be made to the arrangement and proportions of the exterior, though its extent, and the colonnade, give it a certain air of Grandeur. But what shall I say of the interior? I never saw any thing that might be pr000uned a more total failure, in every respect. It is said indeed, that, spite of the immense sums which have been expended, the King is to ill-satio- fied with the result, that he has no mind to take up hie residence in it when

the unhappy edifice shall be finished. This reluctance appears to me very natural. Fir my own part, I would not live in it rent-free : I should vex my- self all the day long with the fantastic mixture of every style of architecture and decoration, the absence of all pure taste, the total want of feeling of mea- sure and proportion. Even the great entrance-hall does not answer its Object, be• cause the principal staircase is on one side, and an immense space, scarcely lighted, teems to extend before you as you enter, to no purpose whatever. The grand apartments of the principal story are adorned with pillars ; but what kind of

? Partly red, like raw sausages ; partly blue, like atarch—bad imitations of tumbles which nobody ever saw, standing upon blocks which art rejects, to support nobody knows wlist. Then, in the next apartment (iii defiance of keeping) no pillars, but pilasters ; then pilasters without base or capital, and then with a capital and with the base preposterously cut away. In the same apartment, fragments of Egypt, Greece, Etruria, Rome, and the middle ages, all confusedly mingled together ; the doors, windows, and chim- ney-pieces, in such incorrect proportions, that even the most unpractised eve must he Mlimiled. The space is unskilfully -divided, cut up, insulated ; the doors • t sometimes in the centre, snmetimes in the Corner ; nay, in one room there are three doors of different height and breadth ; over the doors iu some apartments, bas-reliefs and sculptures in which pigmies and Brubdignagians are huddled together—penple from two to six fcet high living in admirable harmony. The smaller figures have such miserable spider legs and arms, that one would fancy they had been starved in a time of scarcity, and were come to the King's palace to fatten. The picture-gallery is 'highly spoken of. I allow it is large; and the Gothic branches, depending- from the half vaulted ceilings, produce a certain effect. On the other hand, this imitation of Henry the Seventh's Chapel is out of its place here, where the doors and wilidows belong to other times and other na- tions. These doors and svindows, again, are in DO proper proportion to the whole ; the immensely high wall cannot be hung with paintings; and the light corning from above on two sides, is false, insufficient, and, moreover, broken by the architectural decorations.

LLOYD'S AND SHIP•INSURING.

At Lloyd's, close to the dial which tells the hour, is one still more interest • ing here, which tells the direction of the wind, and is connected with the wea- thercock on the roof. Intelligence of the arrivals and departures of ships, of the existence and fate of vessels in all parts of the world, reports from Con- suls and Commissioners resident in every foreign town, newspapers and ga- zettes front every country, are here to be found, arranged in such perfect and convenient order, that the entire actual state of the commercial world may be seen in a few minutes, and any of the countless threads which converge to this centre may be followed out with more or less minuteness. The whole earth, or the whole commercial machinery of the earth, appeared to me to be placed in the bands of the Directors of Lloyd's Cuffeehouse. Mr. whose principal business consists in underwriting, i. e. insuring ships, remarked to me how much there was for them to learn, to know, to reflect, and to decide upon ; for example, the ship's build, her lading, the

time of year, the place of her destination, how often they are obliged to draw elaborate conclusions from vague and scattered accounts of danger or of safety, and how much might be won or lost according to their decision. It is, be conclude:1, an incessant intellectual activity and excitement. Where can any thing like this be found except in London ? and how small does every thing else appear in comparison with the magnitude and extent of these operas tions!

I was in the best disposition in the world to find out and observe all this for myself, but the last remark flung me suddenly into opposition ; and I said to myself—And so, then, these pursuits, trhich, ‘vhatever be their vivacity or magnitude. go at last only to split the world into two parts, the debtor and the creditor ; these views, which resolve every thing into questions of distance and of money, do really embrace the highest possible intellectual activity and ex- citement. And all former nations and races of men were intellectually poor and contemptible, because they did not devote their whole souls to the business of catching the ships of every sea in the nets of Lloyd's Coffeehouse, and of pocketing premiums on icsurance! And the human mind, then, has attained its widest reaelloyhen t embraces. the papers from Ilatnburg anit New York on the one hand, those from the Cape of Good Mope or Calcutta on the other, and the next moment can learn whether or nut thievery goes on flourishingly in the rogues' colony of Sydney !

ENGLISH MECHANISM AND ART.

The Hammersmith Suspension Bridge is a fine and useful work. In what- ever depends on mechanical fitness and precision, the English are masters ; where taste is required, they seem frequently to confound the merely extraordi- nary with the poetical, and to prefer the fantastic to the artistic. A very severe judgment may be passed on many of the London buildings ; they only produce effect by mass, and by being surrounded with other masses : for ex- ample, what an extraordinary coiffure is that stuck upon the Mansionhouse! And where is one to seek the school of architecture in which the man studied who is now constructing those strangest of buildings at Charing Cross? Vicenza, within her narrow walls, contains a greater number of beautiful and stately palaces than are to be found in all gigantic London.

Let us turn to politics. The author may be characterized as a strong Conservative; but having a great deal more knowledge in every sense of the word than the English Tories, and none of their party prejudices or sinister objects, he, even whilst wishing well to their cause, is amazed at their violence and folly. This is more especially the case on the Church question ; for, coming from a country where all sects are equally protected, and the clergy are maintained in a condition much more approaching a Scriptural standard than ours, he can neither shut his eyes to the monstrous anomaly of the Irish Establishment nor to the gross inequality of -the English. Very many elaborate and judicious arguments on the subject are contained in the three volumes; which, though not altogether new, are weighty from the character and indepen- dence of the author, or striking from the manner in which they are put. We must, however, be content with a few passages, all written in the spring of last year, and suggested, as will be seen, by passing subjects.

CORONATION OATH.

The Duke of Cumberland's unmeaning reference to the coronation oath was strongly contrasted with the good sense of the last-mentioned speech. If this oath really expresses absolute and eternal immutability, all one can say is, that the first thing to alter is so gross an absurdity. But, in fact, it prohibits only partial alterations unsanctioned by Parliament. The words, the King shall maintain to the Bishops and clergy all such rights and privileges "as by law do or shall appertain to them," point, as the Duke of Sussex truly observed, to legal changes, and leave the possibility of such open.

IRISH CATHOLICS RIGHTLY DISSATISFIED.

The reproach has unjustly been cast upon the Catholics, that, contrary to the hopes so often excited, they are not satisfied with any concession granted them,

but are continually making fresh demands. But these concessions have always been merely matters of detail, and have left a host of evils untouched, which naturally excited double attention and inflicted double pain, when the hoped-for cure was found to have been but partial and imperfect. The Emancipation, for instance, in consequence of which rich Catholics could. he returned to Parliament, did nothing for the poor ; iinprovements in the Protestant livings only exhibited the wretched and unproviaed state of that Catholic Church in a more striking light ; and grants for Protestant schools irritated the excluded Catholics, who are now sensible to the want and the value of better education.

TORY FANATICAL PARSONS.

Unhappily, party.spirit is more intense and one-sided on this subject than the world has a right to expect from the practised intelligence and good sense of England. I heard, for instance, a distinguished Tory clergyman say, that the abrogation of the results and the aequisitions of centuries, the sacrifices of Protestantism to Catholicise', by the !louse of Ceurinions, was received " with devilish shouts." It was, he added, a griefand a shame that a few Scotch and Irish Members, as ignorant as they are fanatical, should over power the intelligent ma- jority, and be able to destroy the Protestant Chinch of England mid Ireland, which was never more admirable titan now. Indeed, it was evident that Lord John Russell openly aimed at the overthrow of the British Constitution and

the introduction of the American. • What will be done now about the hish question ? asked some one. It will he thrown out in the Lords, replied B. P., a dignified clergy man ; or the King, if an address be presented to hint to that alert., will arlimmish, the Corns mons—and then see if they will venture further. These two expedients, which the speaker seemed to anticipate as triumphs, appeared to me pregnant with

dangers, and symptoms of a violent disease. I am inuell more inclined to be. lieve that King and Lords must absolutely concede what is reasonable, if they would not provoke unreasonable deIllaIDIS.

TORY SAWS ON " CONCESSION" DEMOLISHED.

What can I say, when well- meaning, and, in other respects, sensible men; daily preach to me that in a state, and more evecially in England, nothing whatever must be conceded, becauseevery concession excites fresh demands, and general ruin will be the inevitable consequence ? When such saws as this appear to my adversary pregnant with truth and wisdom—when they seem to him the point from which the world can be firmly held together, while I, on the contrary, think them absolutely null, " without form and void"—how can we come to any understanding ? I must doubt,

if I do not contest, every word he says. In the first place, what does he mean by " concede?" Do I " concede. " that only which is en- tirely dependent on my own will? But what in the world does depend on one will, without reference to the wills of others ? Or, if I concede that only which is agreeable to me, why then all one can say is, that the unconceded comes to pass quite as often as the conceded. Is it with any consent that time rolls on and thatevery thing changes with time ? Did the Pope consent to the Reformation? or did his non-consenting retard it ? Did the Venetians consent to the new direction taken by thC commerce of the world ? or did the English " concede " independence to America ? If concession depends upon individual will, that surely has its limits. Within these limits I may have some influence ; Without them my efforts are but wasted.

The first question therefore is, how far our powers extend? and this is the

true starting-point of all political inquiries. The impossible can never he a rational object of endeavour. When this first question is decided, the next that offers itself is, what is right or just ? If I owe a man a hundred pounds and have not a farthing-, I cannot, in practice, " concede '' to him what I owe; but my inability in no way affects his right. If I say, " If I grant him ten pounds, he will only ask for more and more, till at last I shall lie obliged to pay him the whole hundred, therefore I had better grant nothing," 1 am a fool, or a knave, or both. In like manner, in public affairs, a concession is generally the consequence of a demand ; and neither is the result of any individual will. The formal right of expressing the will, such as that possessed by the Lords or the King, of throwing out bills, has no effect in deciding. the thing, and gives no answer to the question of wisdom or folly, justice or injustice. It is often maintained in letter when it is dead in spirit. Such maxims as, that a government ought to grand no demand, or to grant every demand, are equally null. Because it is possible that the concession of a just demand may be followed by an absurd and unjust one, I am in no degree absolved from the first : on the contrary, the- concession of the just is precisely what will give me strength to withhold the unjust. When, on the other hand, one just principle gives birth tea whole series of new conclusions, we ought not to be alarmed, but should learn to understand how and why such was the natural, the inevitable, and the proper result. This ensued upon the abolition of the slave-trade, of villeinage, of commercial restricts tions, of exclusive class or corporate privileges, and so on. New forms of dis- ease, as well as new vital energies, are doubtless connected with every new stage of development, but the latter cannot be repressed, nor can the former be cured with old nostrums.

Never was a universal ruin brought about by the concession of what was just and suited to the age (which, indeed, inquiry proves tube identical); what was destroyed by such means bad lived out its life. Never, on the contrary, have senseless and untimely changes borne the fruits hoped for by lovers of revolution.- Therefore, let every man who has a share in public affairs exert his understand- ing to the utmost, and lay aside his prejudices, that he may see where it is fib to concede and where to withhold ; and not fancy himself a statesman because be can repeat a few phrases out of Huller or Bentham. General changes, moreover, are not effected by mere personal springs of as- tion. If Luther's opposition to the sale of indulgences promeded (as some Catholics falsely assert) only from envy and avarice, the Reformation would not the less remain a mighty turn in human affairs—an event belonging to uni- versal history. Supposing that O'Connell's efforts in behalf of his country- men spring from ambition or from avarice, the discovery or the proclamation of this fact will neither tranquillize Ireland nor settle the question of the justice or injustice of their demands. If imnioral springs of action are really at work,. the way to render them impotent is to withhold nothing that ought to be granted.

We had marked some panegyrical passages on PEEL,—the god of RAUMER'S idolatry, although on departing he seemed to doubt his own conclusions in the formalist's favour, and by this time, we imagine, he has made up his mind that he is only "the most dextrous fencing-master in England," since he has done the very thing which the German historian reserved as the touchstone of his penetration—united himself with the extreme Tories. For these and numerous others our room fails us. We can spare but space for one more extract—his

IRISH SUMMARY.

My mind is filled with one thought, I can entertain no other—it is that of the inexpressible wretchedness of so many thousands. In England I looked in vain for misery, and all the complaints that I heard seemed to me to be partial and exaggerated ; here, no words can express the frightful truth which every- where meets the eye. To form an idea of it, you must see these houses—tot bums but huts— not huts but hovels, mostly without windows or aper- tures; the same entrance, the same narrow space for men and hogs—the latter lively, sleek, and well-fed ; the former covered with rags, or rather hung with fragments of rags in a manner which it is impossible to conceive. If except the respectable people in the towns, I did not see upon thousands of Irish a whole coat, a whole shirt, a whole cloak ; but all in tatters, and tatters such as are no*here else to be seen.

The ruins of ancient castles were pointed out to me; but how could I take any pleasure in them, while the desolate ruined huts surrounded me, and testi • fled the distress of the present times more loudly than the others did the gran- deur of the past ? But then the lords were of the same race, of the same language; they were on the spot, and the people certainly not so wretched as since the confiscations of the English conquerors. Other huts were half fallen down, but the occupants crept into the remaining half, which was not larger than a coffin for the wretched family. When I recollect the well-fed rogues and thieves in the English prisons, I admire, notwithstanding the very natural increase of Irish criminals, the power of morality.: I wonder that the whole nation does not go orer and steal, in order to enjoy a new and happier existence. And then the English boast of the good treatment of their countrymen, while the innocent Irish are obliged to live worse than their cattle. In Parliament they talk fur years together, whe- ther it is necessary and becoming to leave 100,000 dollars annually (15,0001. ) in the hands of the pastors of 526 Protestants, or 10,759 dollars to the pastors of three Protestants; while there are thousands here who scarcely know they have a soul, and know nothing of their body, except that it sutlers hunger, thirst, and cold.

Which of these ages is the dark and barbarous ; the former, w'sen mendicant monks distributed their goods to the poor, and, in their way, gave them the most rational comfort ; or the latter, when rich (or bankrupt) aristocrats can see the weal of the church and of religion (or of their relations) only in retain- ing possession of that which was taken and obtained by violence? All the blame is thrown on agitators, and discontent produced by artificial means. What absurdity ! Every falling lint causes agitation, and every tat- tered pair of breeches a sans-culotte. Since I have seen Ii eland, I admire the patience and moderation of the people, that they do not (what would be more excusable in them than in distinguished revolutionists, authors, journalists, Benthamites, baptized and unbaptized Jews) drive out the devil through Beelzebub the prince of the devils.

Several entire subjects of this work have been left untouched. We have taken nothing from the Scottish and English provincial journies, and only one quotation from the Irish tour. Many minor topics are also unnoticed, — such as morals, music, acting, the fine arts; upon all of which the author's remarks are judi- cious, and frequently expressed with force or felicity. As regards the translation itself, all criticism is deprecated in the preface, on account of the haste with which it was done. Speaking generally, this apology seems to be needless. It is pro- bable enough that single deficiencies might be found if sought .for; but the impression left by the whole is that of ease, spirit, and mastery.