SIR HORACE MANN.*
AMONG all the occupations of human life, which have been personified by the devout and imaginative genius of the Romans, it is strange that no goddess watches over the most fascinating of all the arts, in which, moreover, Latin literature is so rich and happy. If there had been a presiding deity for the art of letter-writing, then we might go on to say that few mortals were more favoured by her than Sir Horace Mann. To have lived in Florence for nearly half a century, working behind the scenes of European diplomacy, and at the same time to have heard all that was most worth knowing in England, through the letters of Horace Walpole, was in truth an enviable destiny. But the good fortune of Sir Horace Mann has not been continued. Though he is immortal in Walpole's letters, and must be loved by Walpole's readers, who owe him so large a debt, he does not live yet in his own share of the correspondence, as be deserves. His letters have never been published except in Dr. Doran's fragmentary 'Mann' and Manners at the Court of Florence. These two volumes are " founded " on the letters of Horace Mann ; that is, they consist of extracts from them woven together by the editor at his arbitrary choice. So far as a reader may judge, Mann's letters are always interesting and often entertaining ; but this
patchwork is more tantalizing than satisfying, because it leaves us desiring further information about the letters them- selves and the editor's methods. Mann's letters, in addition, have been depreciated by most editors of Walpole. Lord Dover, whose edition stops with the death of George IL in 1760, though the correspondence continued until 1786, describes Mann's letters as "very voluminous, but particu- larly devoid of interest, as they are written in a dry, heavy style." They have not, it is true, the light and sparkling wit of Walpole; but they are full of interest, and they are neither dry nor heavy. Cunningham goes further than Lord Dover, and consigns Mann's correspondence to limbo, as "absolutely unreadable," and the index volume to the Dictionary of National Biography talks of it as an "artificial correspond- ence." Surely a correspondence which was frequent, unbroken, and full of life during forty-four years was not "artificial" in the estimation of the writers, and the exceedingly concrete and definite quality of Mann's share in it makes the adjective still more inept.
Sir Horace Mann is not vindicated by his present biographer, who aggravates, instead of removing or mitigating, his post- humous ill-fortune. We have seldom found a volume so crowded with blunders as Mr. Sieveking's, and their quality is even more astonishing than their quantity. 'Walpole is described at least six times as "Sir Horace "; Francis, the husband of Maria Theresa, is described as "Emperor of Lorraine and Tuscany "; Louis XV. is called the "son" of Louis XIV.; in 1725 "the Infanta was rejected as a bride for Louis XIV.," who had been lying in his coffin since 1715. These mistakes, and others like • The Memoir of Sir Horace Mann. By .1. Giberne Sieveking. London : Kogan Paul and. Co. [10s. net.] them, exemplify Mr. Sieveking's competence in history. "The House of Medici had given Grand Dukes to Tuscany until 1569," so writes Mr. Sieveking ; but historians tell us that Cosmo, the first Grand Duke, only acquired the title in that year. Henry Pelham is described as "the Chancellor," meaning Lord Chancellor ; but Walpole's allusion in this letter is, of course, to Lord Hardwicke. No references are given to the numerous quotations from Walpole, which again looks ominous; and in this letter, when we had verified it, we found that where Lord Dover and Mrs. Toynbee print "to clog all matrimony," Mr. Sieveking prefers to say "dog." Among such errors as these, misprints become trifling ; but Lady Roch ford has been transformed into Rockford, Lord Rockingham into Rochingham, and Admiral Haddock into Ha.ddoch. " (Euvres Complettes " and "Sancta Inquisitis " do not help to guarantee Mr. Sieveking's knowledge of Latin and French, nor does the phrase "Porte Vecchio," twice printed, promise any more for his acquaintance with Italian or with Florence. Such mistakes reflect little credit on those concerned in the production of the book, whether author, publisher, or printer.
Mr. Sieveking appears to be an unreasoning devotee of the Stuarts and of something that we can only describe as Medievalism. While writing ostensibly about Mann, his aim has been to throw the figure of Charles Edward into high relief. So that his book, instead of being glorified as "The Memoir of Sir Horace Mann," which it is on the title-page, would have been issued more sincerely as A Memorial to the Young Pretender. With Mr. Sieveking's enthusiasm we have no quarrel. We too can feel the glamour and the misfortunes of the Stuarts; but Mr. Sieveking destroys his case and theirs by exaggeration and, we must add, by bungling. Everything was bad and coarse in the England of the eighteenth century, in both Church and State. There are no redeeming qualities of any sort. "Most of those who had so splendidly fought for their exiled King [in 1745] had been be- headed." Can Mr. Sieveking have read Walpole's letters on the Jacobite trials and executions ; or does he know how few those executions were? In another place he talks of " 100,000,000 " English prisoners being taken by French corsairs between 1793 and 1814. Again, he says 610,000 slaves were imported into Jamaica between 1700 and 1786. According to figures given in Parliament in 1750, about 46,000 slaves were distributed every year among all the English colonies. Mr. Sieveking's picture is too distorted, chiefly, we think, because his mis- understanding of our Revolution and of its principles is so complete. And, after all, his hero gains nothing ; because it is a degenerate and pitiable Charles Edward who emerges from his tissue of absurdities.
We are sorry that those who might hope to know more about Mann should be disappointed. Mr. Sieveking has, how- ever, left us in his debt by the publication of Mann's letters to Giberne. These letters, like everything else we bear and know of Mann, show him to have been one of the most kindly, simple, and affectionate of mortals, exceedingly sensible in his advice and tactful in his dealings. As Gray says, he was "the best and most obliging person in the world." We will end, as we began, by wishing Mann better posthumous good fortune, including a good biographer ; and, if his letters exist still in manuscript, we hope they will be published in full, as a further supplement to Mrs. Toynbee's monumental editions of the Walpole and Deffand correspondence.
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