THE PRESS.
RATIONALE OF LYING.
MORNING CHRONICLE—The cutting observation of Mr. Justice Bayley when Lord Strangford's application for a criminal information against the Sun newspaper was rejected, that " Honesty was honesty everywhere," has na- turally enough produced a great sensation. It was not so much the remark itself that caused the surprise--for no one supposes diplomatists have a
version of the Bible expressly for their own use, dispensing them from the necessity of speaking the truth—but it was the personage and the place. It was perhaps the first time, since the foundations of Westminster Hall were laid, that a Judge ever broached the proposition, that the truth was to be told at all times and in all places. Truth has generally found a cold welcome in our courts of law, where especial regard has always been bestowed on fiction.
But a little reflection will teach us to moderate our surprise at this phenome- non. Extremes have a tendency to produce their opposites. No one sets so
much value on riches as he who has long struggled with poverty, and the low born are generally the fondest of titles. Without knowing from Sir John Davies and other writers on Ireland, down to Sir H. Butler (in his Sessions'
Charges,) that the Irish were as much addicted to commonalty in their sexual
relations as in the cultivation of their land, one might almost guess as much from the ostentatious manner in which they now boast of the chastity of their females. Lying is more particularly the vice of half-civilized men ; and it was, no doubt, the prevalence of this vice in the middle ages that led gentlemen to seek distinction by truth, and to make the giving the lie the unpardonable of- fence. The French now pique themselves of being the most serious people in Europe, and are quite astonished at the levity of the English. Why may not, then, judges have at length too much fiction, and, under the influence of the nausea caused by the excess, fly to the extreme of demanding that truth, and truth alone, should he heard in all places? All children lie at first to es- cape punishment for their offences; and it is not till the disgrace which attends
detection shames them out of the practice, that they determine to adhere to the truth. Nations in their infancy, are in like manner much addicted to lying; as they become more and more civilized, they become more and more veracious in their habitual statements. The English are now the most civi- lized nation of Europe; and they are decidedly the most frank and open in their ordinary discourse. Wherever wariness is the characteristic of a peo- ple, it implies the prevalence of habits the opposite of veracity, or the recent prevalence of them. The progress of civilization leads to habitual veracity, from a conviction that tricks, which are generally seen through, can be of DO benefit.
THE THAMES TUNNEL.
MORNING JOURNAL—The people of the metropolis have suffered severely from insane speculations--have been robbed by commercial as well as politi- cal jobbers—have been fleeced by the march of constitution-mongering in South America, and in states elseWhere—have been as completely deluded, entrapped, and stripped to the bare bones, as any poor set of wretches ever were in the world before; yet for all this we cannot ascribe so much to their poverty as to their want of spirit, this desertion of the Thames tunnel. The four-and-twenty fair women of Clapham, by their liberal subscription, a few days ago, for the poor blacks in the West Indies, proved that there is still some money in England ; and the fact that the priests of Ireland are re-ship- ing to tobacconists and cheesemongers on this side of the water hogsheads of the Bibles we have distributed in that country gratis, proves that we still have not only large sums of money to spare, but that we actually waste it upon a bigoted and brutalized peasantry, who would, if they could, cut our throats to-morrow for our philanthropy. There are, besides these contributions for the blacks, subscriptions likewise for tracts and water churches, donations for lazy foreigners, sums ready to lend to every swindling mob of patriots who choose to apply for constitutional loans ;—there are, besides these, vast sums voted annually to support pest-houses on the coast of Africa--thousands an. nually to feed seditious priests in Ireland—thousands to build and re-build tasteless palaces—and thousands also to keep up the pageants of city folly and and gorge overfed men, dying from repletion, with gallons of turtle, and deep potations of heavy wine—and yet, oh shame ! shame ! London cannot raise a hundred thousand pounds to assist in completing one of the most magnificent undertakings in Europe ! Were it finished, it would not only be useful, but it would be the boast of England and the pride of London. It would attract the attention of every stranger. It would be visited by travellers from all parts of the globe, and it would by all these persons be admitted to be the most stupendous and unrivalled work of art in the world. Why, then, should it not be completed ? There are no funds!—the funds are exhausted ! is the universal exclamation from Wapping to his Majesty's Treasury in Whitehall. The speculator and capitalist hide themselves in their darkest rooms when the very name of the tunnel is mentioned—the Jew says there is no usance, therefore he cannot subscribe—the rich widow of Cornhill lost ten thousand pounds in the Poyaisian loan, consequently she will hazard no more money in adventures either upon the land, or the water, or under the water—and as to all the rest of the community who have hoards, they keep them at present under lock and key, to be prepared for the next panic. The truth is, the people of London have not the very best taste in the world, unless it be of that of which the cook is the engineer, the housekeeper the contractor, and the spoon, aided and assisted by the knife and fork, is the founder, the hewer, and the builder. Nevertheless, it is painful to think that so great a national work should be retarded, if not completely destroyed, merely from a want of funds —a work which the Duke of Wellington has patronised, and towards which he has subscribed, although neither his patronage nor his subscription has had the effect of procuring above a few paltry thousand pounds—about as much as a Hebrew broker would be ashamed not to leave to his youngest daughter even if she married an orange-vender. This is painful, pitiful, disgraceful.
Previous page
