THE " TIMES.'

Colonist, Volume II, Issue 101, 8 October 1858, Page 4

THE " TIMES.'

r BY B. W. EMERSON.I

The power of the newspaper is familiar in America, and in accordance with our political system. In England it stands in antagonism with the feudal institutions, and it is all the more beneficent succour against the secretive tendencies of a monarchy. The celebrated Lord Somers " knew of no good law proposed and passed in his time to which the public papers had not directed his attention." There is no corner and no night; a relentless inquisition drags every secret to the day, turns the glare of this solar microscope on every malfeisance, so as to make the public a more terrible spy than any foreigner; and no weakness can be taken advantage of by any enemy, since the whole people are already fore-

warned

Thus England rids herself of those encrustations which have been the ruin of old states. Of course, this inspection is feared. No antique privilege, no comfortable jnonopoly, but sees surely that its days are counted; the people are familiarised with the reason of reform, and, one by one, take away every argument of the obstructives. "So your grace likes the comfort of reading the newspapers,"- said Lord Mansfield to the Duke of Northumberland; " mark my words; you and I shall not live to see it, but this young gentleman (Lord Eldon) may be a little later; these newspapers will assuredly write the Dukes of Northumberland out of their title and possessions, and the country out of its king." The tendency in England towards social and political institutions like those of America, is inevitable, and the ability of its journals is the drivingforce. *•*■

England is full of manly, clever, wellbred men, who possess the talent of writing off-hand pungent paragraphs, on expressing with clearness and courage their opinion on any person, or performance. Valuable or riot, it is a skill that is rarely found out of the English journals. The English write poetry, as they ride and box, by being educated to it. Hundreds of clever Praeds, and Freres, and Froudes, and Hooks, and Manginns, and Mills, and Macaulays, make poems, or short essays for a journal, as they make speeches on the hustings or in Parliament, or as they shoot and ride. It is a quite accidental and arbitrary direction of their general ability. Rude health and spirit, an Oxford education, and the habits of society are implied, but not a ray of genius. It comes of the crowded state; of the professions, the violent interest which all men take in'politics, the facility of experimenting in the journals, and high pay. - ' ■

The most conspicuous result of this talent is the Times newspaper. No .power in England is more felt, more feared or more obeyed. What you read in the morning in that journal you shall.hear in the evening in all society. It has ears everywhere, and its information is earliest, completest and surest. It has risen year by year, and victory by victory, to its present* authority! I asked one of its old. contributors whether it had once been abler .than it is now? " Never," he said f if these: are its palmiest

days." It has shown those qualities which are dear to Englishmen, unflinching adherence to its objects, prodigal intellectual ability, and a towering assurrance, backed by the perfect organisation in its printing house, and its world-wide net-work for correspondence and reports. It has its own history and famous trophies. In 1820, it adopted the cause of Queen Caroline, and carried it against the King. It adopted a poor-law. system, and almost alone lifted it through. When Lord Brougham was in power, it decided against him, and pulled him down. It declared war against Ireland and conquered it. It adopted the League .against the Corn laws, and _when Cobden had begun to despair, it announced his triumph. It denounced and discredited the French Republic of 1848, arid checked every sympathy with it in England, until it had enrolled 20,000 special constables to watch the Chartists, and make them ridiculous on the 10th April. It first denounced and then adopted the new French Empire, and urged the French alliance and its results. It has entered into each : municipal, literary and social question, almost with a controlling voice. It has done ; bold and seasonable service in exposing frauds which threatened the commercial community. Meantime it attacks its rivals, by perfecting its printing machinery, and will drive them out of circulation in a few years. The difficulty of the Timesis the impossibility of printing copies fast enough ; since a daily .paper can only be new and seasonable for a few hours. It will kill all but that paper w/hich is diametrically, in opposition; since many papers, first and last, have lived by their attacks on the leading journal.

I went one day with a good friend to the; Times Office, which was entered through a , pretty garden yard in Printing-house square. We walked with some circumspection, as if we were entering a powder-mill; but the. door was,opened.by a mild old woman, and ■ by dint of some transmission of cards, we \ were at last conducted into the parlour of; Mr. Morris, a very gentle person, with no hostile appearances. The statistics are now: quite out of date, but I remember he told! us that the daily printing was then 35,000 copies; that on the Ist March,, 1848, the greatest number ever printed—s4,ooo— were issued; that, since February, the daily circulation had increased by 8,000 copies. The old press they were then using printed1 five or six thousand sheets per hour; the new machine, for vyhich they were then building an engine, would print twelve thousand per hour. Our entertainer confided us to a courteous assistant to show us the establishment, in which, I think, they employed a hundred and twenty men. I remember I saw the reporters' room; in which they rewrite their hasty stenographs; but the editor's room, and who is in it, I did not see, though I shared the curiosity of mankind respecting it.' The influence of this journal is a. recognised power in Europe, and, of course, none is more conscious of it than its conductors.; The tone of its articles has often been the occasion of comment from the official organs ofthe continental courts, and sometimes the ground of diplomatic complaint. Wnat would the Times say ? is a terror in Paris, in Berlin, in Vienna, in Copenhagen, and iri Nepaul. Its consummate discretion and success exhibit the English skill of combination. The daily paper is the work of many hands, chiefly, it is said, of young met) .recently from the University, and perhaps reading law in Chambers in London. Hence the academic elegance, and classic allusions which adorn its columns. Hence, too, the heat and gallantry of its onset. But the steadiness of ths aim suggests the belief that this fire is directed and fed by older engineers; as if persons of exact, information, and with settled views of policy, supplied the writers with tie basis of fact, and the object to be attained, and avail themselves of their younger energy and eloquence to plead the cause. Both the council and the executive departments gain by the division. Ofthe two men of equal ability, the one who does not write, but keeps his eye on the course of public affairs, will have the higher judicial wisdom. But the parts are kept in concert; all the articles appear, to < proceed from a single will. The Times. never disapproves of what itself has said, or cripples itself by apology for the absence j ofthe editor, or the indiscretion of him who: held the pen. It speaks out bluff and bold,; and sticks to what it says. It draws from any number of learned and skilful contributors; but a more learned and skilful; person supervises, corrects, and co-ordinates.; Of this closet, the secret does not transpire. No writer is suffered to claim the author-; ship of any paper; everything good, from whatever quarter, comes out editorially; and thus, by making the paper everything, and those who write it nothing, the character! and the awe of the journal again. The English"-like it for its complete information. A statement of fact in "the; Times is as reliable v as a citation from Hansard. Then, they-like its independence —they do not know, when they take it up, what their paper is going say ; but, above all, for the nationality and Confidence -of its tone. It thinks for them at all; it is their understanding and day's ideal, daguerreotyped. ■ When I see them reading its columns, they seem to me becoming every moment more British. It has the national courage, not rash and petulant, but considerate and deter-? mined. No dignity orwealth isa shieldfrqm its assault. It attacks a duke as readily as a policeman, and with the most provoking airs of condescension. It makes rude work with the Board of Admiralty. The Bench of Bishops is still less safe. One bishop fares badly for his rapacity, and another for his bigotry, and a third for his courtliness. It addresses occasionally a hin. to Majesty itself, and sometimes a hint which is taken. There is an air of freedom even in their advertising columns, which speaks well for England to a foreigner. On the day when I arrived iri London, in 1847, I read among the daily announcements, one offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who would put a nobleman, described

by name and title, late a member of Parlliament, into any county gaol in England, he. having been convicted of obtaining money under false pretences. Was ever such arrogancy as the tone of this paper? Every slip of art Oxmiian or Cantabrigian who writes his first leader, assumes that we subdued the earth before we sat down to write this particular. Times. One would think the world was on its knees to the. Times- Office for its daily breakfast. But this arrogance is calculated. Who would care for itj if it "surmised," or "dared to confess," or "ventured to predict," &c. No; it is so, and so it shall be.

The morality and patriotism of the Times1 claims only to be representative, and by! means ideal. It gives the argument, not: of the majority, but of the commanding class. Its editors know better than, to defend Russia, or Austria, or English vested rights, on abstract grounds. But they give a voice' to the class who, at the moment, take the lead:. and they have an instinct for finding where the power now lies which is eternally shifting its banks. Sympathising with, and speaking for the class that rules the hour, yet being apprised of every ground-swell, every Chartist resolution, every Church squabble, every strike in the mills, they detect the first tremblings of change. They watch the hard and bitter struggles of the authors of each liberal movement, year by .year—watching them only to taunt and obstruct them—until, at last, when they see that these have established their fact, that power is on the point of passing to them —they strike in with the^yoice of a monarch, astonish those whom they succour as much as those whom they desert, and make victory sure. Of course the aspirants see that the Times is one ofthe goods of fortune, not to be won but by winning their cause.

Another Disentomed City. —Wurka (Erech of Genesis 10: 10) has been visited and described by Mr. Loftus, in his Travels in Chaldea. It stands on the eastern side of the Euphrates, on a tract slightly elevated above the marshes surrounding it on all sides. The principal remains are those of a structure enclosed by a wall five miles and a half in circumference, and in many places'4o feet above the level on which the city stands. It has been ascertained, by inscriptions on bricks, that the city was dedicated, to the moon, by a king named Urukh, about-twenty-three centuries 8.C., and 1200 years before Nineveh was built. There is also reason to believe that its. foundation was due to an ante-Semitic or j Hamite population, the history of which is now being clearly revealed as monuments are investigated. There are two great piles, one being a tower 200 feet square, with buttresses, made of bricks dried in the sun; the other is within an enclosure of seven acres and a half, the longer side being 650 feet. The structure is somewhat less than 80 feet high, standing on a mound about 50 feet in altitude.. It-is unlike any other hitherto examined.- The fagade is 174 feet in length, with groups of half columns in sevens, which are repeated seven times, having the appearance of palm logs. The fagade has been covered with lime plaster from two to four inches thick. It contains great . halls, without doors or windows; the roofs appear to have been vaulted. It promises to be a mine of antiquities. Nowhere in the world, perhaps, is* to be found such a collection of human bones. It appears to have been a burial-place for twenty-five centuries.

Courtesy. —Show us the man who can quit the brilliant society- of the young to listen to the kindly voice of age—who can hold cheerful converse with one whom years has deprived of charms—show us the man who is willing to' help any one who stands in need of help, as if the blush of Helen mantled on her cheek—show us the man who would no more look rudely at the poor girl in the village than at-the elegant and well dressed lady in the saloon—show us the man who treats unprotected maidenhood as he, would the heiress surrounded by the powerful protection of rank, .riches, and family; show us the man who abhors the libertine's gibe, who shuns as a blasphemer, the traducer of his mother's sex -—whoscorns as- he would a coward, the ridiculk__»^)f womanly foibles, or theexposer of womanly reputation—show us the man! who never forgets for one hour the delicacy, the respect due to women as women, in any condition or class; show us such a man, and you show us a gentleman—nay, you show us better—you show us a true Christian.

Poetry. —Poetry comprehends what is the. purest in language and the most sublime in idea. It alone attains the highest degree of eloquence, and imparts the utmost embellishment to narrative and discourse. Poetry, every other species of lariguage, is retained in the memory with easb; and by it the peculiar genius of man is best revealed. Were poetry a jewel, it would be of the purest water; were it a plant, it would breathe the odoriferous perfume of the basil; were it transformed into stars,: their brilliancy would be unequalled; or! into limpid streams,. their, currents would never .cease to: flow*. In fine, poetry is; softer than, the liquid pearls which glitter in the bosom of the rose, when abundant showers have watered the parterres. It is; tenderer than tears, and sweeter than the grape lightly tempered by the dew of heaven.

Vocal Machinery of Birds.—lt is difficult to acpount for so small a creature as a bird niaking a tone "as loud as some animals a thousand times its size; but'a recent discovery has shown that- in birds; the lurigs have several openings communicating with corresponding air bags or cells, which fill the whole cavity of the body from the neck downward, and into which the air passes and repasses in tho progress of breathing. This is not all; the very bones are hollow, from which air pipes are conveyed to the most solid parts of the body, even into the quills and feathers. The air being rarefied by the heat of their body, adds to their

levity. By forcing the air out of the body they can dart down from the greatest heights with astonishing velocity. No doubt the same1 machinery forms the basis of their vocal powers, and at once resolves the mystery.— Gardeners Music of Nature. Night in Australia.— -Night in Australia! How impossible to describe its beauty ! how heaven seems in that new world so much nearer to earth! Every star stands out so bright and particular,vasaf fresh from tlie time when the Maker willed it. And the moon, like a large silvery sun; the least object on which it shines so distinct, and so still. Now and then a sound breaks the the silence, but a sound so much in harmony with the solitude, that it only deepens its charms. Hark! the low cry of a night bird from yonder glen amidst the small gleaming rocks. Hark! the echo catches the sound, and flings it sportively from hill to hill, farther, and farther, and farther down, till all again is hushed, and the flowers hang noiseless over your head, as you ride through a grove of the giant gum-trees. Now the air is literally charged with odours, and the sense of fragrance grows almost painful in its pleasure. You quicken your pace, and escape again into the open plains and the full moonlight, and through the slender tea-trees catch the gleam of the river, and in the exquisite fineness of the atmosphere hear the soothing sound of its mtormur.—Lytibn. Fragrance.— Oh', world of mystery that every .where hangs about us and within us! Who can, even in imagination, penetrate to the depths of the commonest ofthe phenomena of our daily life ? Takfe, for instance, one of those pots of Narcissi. We have ourselves had a plant of' the variety known as soliel dor, in flower in a sitting-room for six weeks, during the depths of winter, giving forth the whole of that time, .^without (so far as we know) ceasing, even during sleep (for we need hardly tell our readers that plants do sleep), the same full stream of fragrance. Love itself does not seem to preserve more absolutely its wealth, while most liberally, dispensing it! That fragrance has; a material basis, though we cannot detect it by our finest tests. What millions of millions of atoms must go to the formation of even a single gust, as it were, of this divine flower-breath! Yet this goes on, through! seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and ceases only with the health of the flowerpetals. Where, then, in these petals-—these thin, unsubstantial cream-flakes—may we look to find stored up all these inexhaustible supplies! Where, indeed? And if they are not stored up, but newly created as given forth—is not that even more wonderful? Would that any one could, show us the nature and modes of operation of such miraculous chemistry.— -Leigh Runt's Journal.

The Seven Sleepers. — The story ofthe Seven Sleepers is the most romantic of the legends of the Church. It is as follows :-— When the Emperor Decius persecuted the Christians, seven noble youths of Ephesus concealed themselves iri a spacious cavern, on the side of an adjacent mountain, and were doomed to perish by the tyrant, who gave orders that the entrance should be. firmly secured by piles of stones. They immediately fell into a deep slumber, \Vhich was miraculously prolonged, without injuririg;tne powersof life, one-hundred and eighty-seven years. At the end of that time, the slaves of Adolus, to whom the inheritance of the mountain had descended, removed the stones to supply material for some edifice. The light of the sun darted, into the cavern, and the Seven Sleepers were permitted to awake. Soon after rising from their sleep, which they thought had lasted oiily a few hours, they were pressed by the calls of hunger, and resolved that Jambiichus, one of their number, should secretly return to the city, to purcllase bread for the use o himself and his companions. The youth, if we may stillemployjhat appellation, could! no longer recognize the once familiar aspect: of his native country; and his surprise was increased by the appearance of a large cross triumphantly erected over the principal gate of Ephesus. His singular dress and obsolete language confounded the baker, to whom he offered an ancient medal of Decius, as the current coin of the Empire; and Jambiichus, on the 'suspicion of a secret treasure, was dragged before the judge. Their mutual inquiries produced the amazing discovery that two centuries had almost elapsed since Jambiichus and his friends had escaped from the rage of a pagan tyrant. The Bishop of Ephesus, the clergy, the magistrate, the people, and, it is said, the Emperor himself, hastened to visit the cavern ofthe Seven Sleepers, who related their story, bestowed their benediction, and at the same instant peaceably expired. Self Esteem. —We cannot conceive a more pitiable and unhappy circumstance than persons haying too high an opinion of their own merit.' They are always conceiving some affront offered to them, when such a thing was never intended. Instead of passing through life with a smile upon the lips, and sunlight on the brow, they are invariably fretful, moody individuals, clamouring loudly at the slightest ill which crosses their, path, and imagining themselves insulted if every one does not appear to hold them in the same estimation in which they regard themselves^ x ' When you do a thing from the clear, judgment that it ought to be done, never shun the being seen to do it, even though \ the world should make a wrong supposition about it. If the act is improper, shun the deed itself, but if it is not, why fear those who censure you wrongly ? A disappointed author, indulging in a vein of abuse against a successful rival, exclaimed, "He is, without exception, the most superficial, self-sufficient, ignorant, shallow creature that ever made any pretensions to literature." " Gently, my dear sir,?' interrupted a gentleman, " you quite forget yourself."

The 'Dignity of Labour— -The following illustration of the dignity of labour is one which we suspect George Roy did not contemplate when.he concocted his cele-

bratedlecture on them:—D*rag*a.period of dull trade, a weaver residenfcin a village some miles from Paisley,- Being out'of..work-* called regularly on his friend, the^ agent, .to inquire if there was any prospect of another* web. One day the agent told him l.tbq.t! the carrier had brought only a single web,i and that he had given it to another weaver,. thinking that, as there was a farthing off the ell, he would not work it at the reduced price. " Work it!" exclaimed the weaver, "man,. I would have ha'e wrochHt though it had been at naethingr for when I ha'e wark I aye ha'e credit, but when I ha'e nae wark there's no a shopkeeper will trust me a bawbee."— _ Glasgow Daily Bulletin.

A Yankee Judge. —The othfcr day a little boy was before the court for stealing a ball of thread. " Discharge him," said Judge Brownell; " took it to fly his kite with, -I suppose." A man was brought up for stealing fat from a bullock. He alleged that he stole it to grease his boots.with. " Well, then," said the Judge indignantly, " why couldn't you cut it out of the kidney, instead of spoiling a whole quarter. Guilty; penitentiary two months. '—Knickerbocker.