ON LONDON STREETS IN THE SEVENTIES.

Press, Volume LXV, Issue 13336, 30 January 1909, Page 7

ON LONDON STREETS IN THE SEVENTIES.

Br "A* ° JD '■ <s«r-__v wbittex for "the mnss.") CHURCHMEN. Dn'Ting across Westminster bridge grey winter atternoon in a ear""iL arid pair were the working-head Tthe Church of England and th.- high lady-n-ho, although -he was the wife of the first personage in the realm after tbe princes of blood royal, wn.s styled pair 31x3 Tait. Tor it was notable that she. who had been a true holppKCt to her husband ever «ince ho was at Rugby school, never fnilcd to accompany the Archbishop to ib* House of Lords. Very grave he looked, with hia fomewhat feminine 1 face, and vel 7 saddened .-he, ns tliey i ,['__,.■'(. past, tho remain* of her former i tea-ty still visible on the confines of \ Pgg. te !*> often happens, they L' jjaJ atoned for a public life of rare felicity and scarcely-earned distinction ' b; almost unparalleled private sorrows, which left uumistakeable traces on the two raintly visages. It was merely a uapohot. and ono nr>vvr again saw tho eminent prelate who so evonJy held) the ttjUea among tho factions that wero cOT~_-in_ against ono another with a feWJty CTcn aa on ' v churchmen know, _ a «'jt lighted up a wholo -period of ccCfasa-tical history. "There goes Stanley," said Carlyle

to'Frwdo one day, as they were cross-

ing Hyde Park togetner, '"boring holes ' jn _w bottom of the Church of Eng-_"-lasd." Not "boring holes" then, one 7" would think, or as one met him hurryL jng along Pall Mall with slightly un- - .steady etep. Andl yet, as ho ostenta-'/"-tid-sly went about minus tho regulaitiDß knee-breeches (or tho "cloven ' foot," as a character in "Alton -jjacfce'' terms th© small clothes >'{.opposed to be obligatory on 'sMeara), he waa visibly condemning /"tha ceremonialism of his church, and % thus really— undermining it. The " »far_ou_ dean was short of stature, but i' looked a sufficient man, -with tho mobile, ; "curving lips, the flashing eye, tho high -forehead, and the "fierce brow." His Mpres_ive'face answered well to his reputo. For ho was th© bravest of tho who ' bearded archbishops, rjiuhops, deans, and a wholo convocation \__ defence'of Colenso. When one heard jjrdu'm speak at a meeting convened in jitte nave of an ancient Scottish abbey, "-Jsnd presided over by th© Earl of Elgin, !j£?Te seemed to be listening to a Peter ..the Hermit, such was the fervour. --though not th© fluency, of his utterance, t

Very different was the Bishop of . Wmchester, tho famous Samuel Wilber- . force, unworthily known as "Soapy ~^ a "V f rom t D « mellifluous character j» cf I__ oratory and also, no doubt, from (""■ a certain flexibility af principle th3t JSJS made him as much of a time-server as> Manning. - Intho 'seventies _ he was already grey, but less with wars, perhaps, than -with grief for the loss of ,a tenderly loved young wife (one of t-rco beautiful sisters, of whom another had married Manning), of a promising ion, and of a daughter who . lived, indeed, but was dead to him -through hor secession., with her husJ.and, to the Church of Rome. Was it with grief that, his face seemed furrow«d as one met him in tho lobby of the House of Cqmmons, coming from a soon-closed sitting of the House of . Lords? No" ordinary man, he-plainly . wbs, but one hardly discovered in that casual «(»oirter even the outward , signs of .those extraordinary powers j ': w j OT <*«l''t»o unstinted eulogy of j,- Gladstone when, a year or two later. i, PS, 1 ** 8 thrown from his horse and "i,. "','*" °_J" 9 wil ? *° ""Tsit Earl GranL.tflle at Wanner Castle. \: After the prelate who just missed th© jj£ Pju-*ey thrbUßh the dislike of him en's* «rtai_ed at Court, commonplace, rediPl W»d» and umntellcctual appeared that |* Bishop of London, a certain Dr. Jaok- & wn, whom 'Lord Derby had appointed ±fi to onto of the' highest of episcopal sees •-■ for some personal reason. Ho left no sueb mark as a Blomfield an classical" srhohrrsmp. _ Matmdell CreiVhton in ijSP o *?* ■ Temple in speculation, or a "Wtttngtan Ingram in administration. ll***."** B *_• «P-- and' sympathetic, tSf tjTO «-ntenance of Dean Farrar uai ___j observed- as he came out «Jte,l4»doa.l_ibrary. A "Times" Vhom T TOet T"** >» **« wg -torarjr* few minutes later, in anthe effect that the «J*> OF va__j«ia resembled, that of £wa Fimr, asserted that, while Vil- - * ereat writer, the , ™a*L <rf the kin&y <i ean had almost ' -™ t i v <bat a «>ald' have. •' J__ m tlle ri P ht ? A NonconformX*V*» |-eered at the "oratorical of "Our Eternal; Hope," but 1>» -__? ? a * r ded to Westminster Abi_*Jj, *? * utao r was announced to j " n_r__l*_ au *l f"* J-any volumes inspire; ' ha w>b-ity of character. I * though little seen on j - 'Sal et \ l,M often Produced men as i --P J3*!_2L ** lan *«l*«_ though few as j . : -__sfi___ ? s o s * ex-Headmaster of ' : "C!!!? Igl1 °o>»e-e. One of more r^^- 5 *°™» of personality was > 8.-^?**"" 1 Westboume Grove in v ' ~_v^ tcr ' *""* so impressive were his ']«! ? !^ aild - oaiTia K*> that a booksel- -' excitedly: "There's 'to^ n Hood!" One day. in. the pul-! rflnA ?? *,?" aiustrating the natui-o ___?2_?* ,lt 3 p ' wound "P-* ctlin »- - aiis J^ rt * anent ,bT striking lus chest -s'H_v»% yin Js : " iVnd ' >s Paxton '_»«___** was a kill<t o f Carlyle in vith the manner, the ac- i -.__■»»** *«»ntri_ities of tho prophet. vhoil ? without his genius. It »Mca men who. with all their draw- j '■SSJSs tho pnlpii nIiVG ia an Qothed like a priest or a clergyter «r°.J on f might say) a minis- '__». -m, Cardinal Manning «nt»_ T 1 ". 10 sign of that decline of ' <~c -rm ° W vhich is assimilating Th„..- s '" to ay members of society. 'of ifr* maintained by the Cardinal - th<> E "Rlish noble. ~'on *s.* bank looks down _rr-sS.V°'th Sea. in the town of S_f^L*_ rs ; in Kent - ""■he l "* Dickens '•___ V* 1 alMj """b'ch he temporarily «^ c a. fashionable midsummer ret,j lrhere \. r also the Jewisli magnate. ■"tksjf--* 8 dwelt, reclined i J*_S? a _ proat ' nrr of the City Temple. Parker. lik 0 Hugli 3Hiller. had t_B*_ I" ar ryman. and ia his robust » Bm. lionlike phvsiogtmrny ;if lU £_J ll can -c conceived' with a pug J f«ar_V**_ ltl his agrr ress . ve s tv!t» sad To__rl <lc,,,Mciati ons and thur.de.ous Visibly and audibly liore the idfe-l S former avocation. Very B * l_i ** e| n w ' that summer afternoon. there with, possibly. ono of «»coas J but the huge epring waa

only fcr a moment relaxed: and it was tver'ieadv to uncoil Dr. Parker was. • f course, tho real maker of the Temple-, and Mr Campbells Hegelian doctrines would have had small vogue •r.it for tho ringing uttersnee- of his predecessor. JUDGES. Eccentricities of manner aro rare on the streets of a. great city, whero tho multitudinous mockery of pa.».,crs-by ;r>on brings a man to his senses: hut just as Lord Derby had his -snort, Chief Justice Lord Coleridge had lu°*> puff, the greatest advocate ami tlie most finished speaker of hir; time, Gladstone hardly excepted, punctuated his walks with puffs. With a ohi:i that looked like a shelf of rock, and acted like a blacksmith's bellows, he >lowly inflated his cheek- and then as slowly discharged his inaudible- inr-pira-tion. His twcnty-six-days'-long snoech in opening the case the defendant, when the Tiehbornc suit w;'.s bein'i tried, was the high-water mark of English forensic oratory in our time. and it raised Colo-ridgc'to tho rank of Borrver, whoso speeches at the Front h bar had tho same magic phrasing and the like silver..' intonations. Yet h ; s prepared orations were not always his hwt, An address delivered at the Philosophical Institution in Edinburgh was pure in style, but empty in substance, and it was easily equalled by a brief but florid utterance, in proposing to him a vote of thanks, made by Lord Mencroiff, the bladder of whose peculiar oratory, always draped in habiliments of woe, Disraeli pricked when lie spoke of the Lord Advocate's "funereal rhetoric." Then Sir John Coleridge, as ho still was, replied in an improvisation that completely captured an exacting audience. Every distinguished man of letters, almost every man distinguished in English public life, had addressed tho philosophers but none had surpassed this unpremeditated flight.

As lofty a spirit as Coleridge, and with equal purity of diction, the Earl of Sol borne (so created by has admiring friend, Gladstone, who was equally an adorer of Coleridge) put on little "side" as he walked up Regent street to tho big house in Great Portland street, which his large income at the Chancery Bar (estimated at g£2o.o') well entitled him to occupy. Now grey, but still vigorous, of manifestly high enelowments. and dcelicatcd to great principles, ho could abandon tho august office of Lord Chancellor when the tenure of it conflicted with his sensitive conscience. Earl Cairns was taller and seemingly more robust, but he woto a bitter expression hhat was bred of chronic dyspepsia. Keenly argumentative, upright, and able, ho was kinder to tyros at .the bar than his more impatient colleague. Lord Selborne. who won tho roßpect oftener than the affection of rising juniors. AUTHORS. If Hamlet was not himself an author, ho has been tho cause of no little authorship in others. But Henry Irving was not only a great actor; ho was also, as an editor of Shakespeare, an author of some note. Is not that Hamlet himself, whom wo see walking along Piccadilly in the dusk, a cigar in his mouth, tho right shoulder raised high abovo tne other, as on th© stage, and wearing thc traditional cloak, as hi eons his part for the evening's performance ? And the sombre face, as of one living in another and not a better world, reflects the tragic passions he is to embody tnd express. Is not that Carlyle, walking in Por-ch-ester , terrace, Bayswater, with tho soft felt hat and Highland cloak of tho Sage, and a physiognomy that is marvellously verisimilar? Or is it his wraith? For by this time Carlyle had ceased, from, ago and infirmity*; to go about by himself, and he was usually accompanied by Froude, walking or driving. The hat, too, the cloak, and tho countenance, were all alike too refined for the russet-coated and ruggedfeatured sage. In reality, it was James Spedding, editor and biographer of Bacon, who was awar© of his resemblance to Carlyle, and studiously cultivated it.

There passed swiftly, like a dark vision, the sombre face of Bulwer Lytton .who drove alone around Hyde Bark. Pulling up his long legs, thoro sat Alfred Tennyson, as he still was. who drove down Regent street- in a brougham. There, crossing Oxford istreeb on his way back to St. John\l Wood from tho London Library, walked George Henry Lewes, another but more homespun imitator of Carlyle in broad felt hat, Highland cloak, and long, uncut hair. It was again he coming down from the heights of Hampstead, but this time in company with another George^—the George Eliot of immortal fame. Tho late Mathilde Blind has satirically sketched them, and the humour of tho too passionate poetess was not wholly _.out of focus. She pictures them as a pair of old dowdies, talking with*" animation and violently gesticulating; but they could also walk silently, sho hanging trustfully on his arm, each obviously pursuing his and her own tram of thought. Their exterior was not resthetic. nor their appearance impressive, hut a nobler pair of moro generous characters or loftier intellects has seldom been seen on the dusty highways of tlie world's metropolis. We might tell of Andrew Lang, seen crossing Kensington Gardens—musing and meditativfi —tho dark and wellsized embodiment of such a combination of gifts for poetry and erudition, anthrooology, history and fiction, as few have possessed. Thero goes Dr. Furnivall into the British Museum — grey, slender, bustling, the textually unrivalled, if riot, always profoundest, Shakespearian of the day. Walking slowly home after a day's conveyancing, comes Frederic Harrison, with a gait more pontifical than that of Manning, as befits tho futuro high-priest in England of the "religion ot humanity." Making a formal afternoon call in the neighbourhood of Hyde Park is the short and sturdy ficuro of William Black, dark and yet kindly, once famous and already forgotten. Coming down the Broad Walk of Kensington Gardens is the irreatest contemporary poet after Tennyson—the well-dressed, short, and dapper fignre of Robert Browning, with the alert look of a prosnerous merchant or even a tradesman! Observe him, seated in a 'bus, as he watches like a fox the quarrel between an old damo and tho conductor who, as she believes, is trying to over-rt-aoh her. That fair-haired, young- . ish man is Swinburne, writing in the British Museum a copy of verses for tho lady who has asked him to adcru her album. Evidently the poet of our time who has most commanded his inspiration has difficulty with his thoughts —he never can have had any with his rhymes—but at length tho task is done, and the recipient is mado happy. - That is th® stern and shaven countenance of John Morley—the unfrocked priest of Agnosticism—who sits opposite to you in a carriage on tho underzround railway, as again it was he whom you passed on- the cliffs at Brighton, *as lie came back from his morning constitutional, looking as if he were meditating his work for tlio day. But we shoukl never end. The political, scientific, literary. and artistic glories of-England, as the French would call them, are over to be encountered on the thronged streets the quiet byways, or tho suburban vomitories of London.