north and most of the Winnebagos would join him in a war
Whether Sir Robert Peel will undertake the Reform of Downing Street for us, or any Ministry or Reform farther, is not known. He, they say, is getting old, does himself recoil from it, and shudder at it; which is possible enough. The clubs and coteries appear to have settled that he surely will not; that this melancholy wriggling seesaw of red-tape Trojans and Protectionist Greeks must continue its course till--what _can_ happen, my friends, if this go on continuing?
And yet, perhaps, England has by no means so settled it. Quit the clubs and coteries, you do not hear two rational men speak long together upon politics, without pointing their inquiries towards this man. A Minister that will attack the Augeas Stable of Downing Street, and begin producing a real Management, no longer an imaginary one, of our affairs; _he_, or else in few years Chartist Parliament and the Deluge come: that seems the alternative. As I read the omens, there was no man in my time more authentically called to a post of difficulty, of danger, and of honor than this man. The enterprise is ready for him, if he is ready for it. He has but to lift his finger in this enterprise, and whatsoever is wise and manful in England will rally round him. If the faculty and heart for it be in him, he, strangely and almost tragically if we look upon his history, is to have leave to try it; he now, at the eleventh hour, has the opportunity for such a feat in reform as has not, in these late generations, been attempted by all our reformers put together.
As for Protectionist jargon, who in these earnest days would occupy many moments of his time with that? "A Costermonger in this street," says Crabbe, "finding lately that his rope of onions, which he hoped would have brought a shilling, was to go for only sevenpence henceforth, burst forth into lamentation, execration and the most pathetic tears. Throwing up the window, I perceived the other costermongers preparing impatiently to pack this one out of their company as a disgrace to it, if he would not hold his peace and take the market-rate for his onions. I looked better at this Costermonger. To my astonished imagination, a star-and-garter dawned upon the dim figure of the man; and I perceived that here was no Costermonger to be expelled with ignominy, but a sublime goddess-born Ducal Individual, whom I forbear to name at this moment! What an omen;--nay to my astonished imagination, there dawned still fataler omens. Surely, of all human trades ever heard of, the trade of Owning Land in England ought _not_ to bully us for drink--money just now!"
"Hansard's Debates," continues Crabbe farther on, "present many inconsistencies of speech; lamentable unveracities uttered in Parliament, by one and indeed by all; in which sad list Sir Robert Peel stands for his share among others. Unveracities not a few were spoken in Parliament: in fact, to one with a sense of what is called God's truth, it seemed all one unveracity, a talking from the teeth outward, not as the convictions but as the expediencies and inward astucities directed; and, in the sense of God's _truth_, I have heard no true word uttered in Parliament at all. Most lamentable unveracities continually _spoken_ in Parliament, by almost every one that had to open his mouth there. But the largest veracity ever _done_ in Parliament in our time, as we all know, was of this man's doing;--and that, you will find, is a very considerable item in the calculation!"
Yes, and I believe England in her dumb way remembers that too. And "the Traitor Peel" can very well afford to let innumerable Ducal Costermongers, parliamentary Adventurers, and lineal representatives of the Impenitent Thief, say all their say about him, and do all their do. With a virtual England at his back, and an actual eternal sky above him, there is not much in the total net-amount of that. When the master of the horse rides abroad, many dogs in the village bark; but he pursues his journey all the same.
[May 1, 1850.] No. V. STUMP-ORATOR.
It lies deep in our habits, confirmed by all manner of educational and other arrangements for several centuries back, to consider human talent as best of all evincing itself by the faculty of eloquent speech. Our earliest schoolmasters teach us, as the one gift of culture they have, the art of spelling and pronouncing, the rules of correct speech; rhetorics, logics follow, sublime mysteries of grammar, whereby we may not only speak but write. And onward to the last of our schoolmasters in the highest university, it is still intrinsically grammar, under various figures grammar. To speak in various languages, on various things, but on all of them to speak, and appropriately deliver ourselves by tongue or pen,--this is the sublime goal towards which all manner of beneficent preceptors and learned professors, from the lowest hornbook upwards, are continually urging and guiding us. Preceptor or professor, looking over his miraculous seedplot, seminary as he well calls it, or crop of young human souls, watches with attentive view one organ of his delightful little seedlings growing to be men,--the tongue. He hopes we shall all get to speak yet, if it please Heaven. "Some of you shall be book-writers, eloquent review-writers, and astonish mankind, my young friends: others in white neckcloths shall do sermons by Blair and Lindley Murray, nay by Jeremy Taylor and judicious Hooker, and be priests to guide men heavenward by skilfully brandished handkerchief and the torch of rhetoric. For others there is Parliament and the election beer-barrel, and a course that leads men very high indeed; these shall shake the senate-house, the Morning Newspapers, shake the very spheres, and by dexterous wagging of the tongue disenthrall mankind, and lead our afflicted country and us on the way we are to go. The way if not where noble deeds are done, yet where noble words are spoken,--leading us if not to the real Home of the Gods, at least to something which shall more or less deceptively resemble it!"
So fares it with the son of Adam, in these bewildered epochs; so, from the first opening of his eyes in this world, to his last closing of them, and departure hence. Speak, speak, oh speak;--if thou have any faculty, speak it, or thou diest and it is no faculty! So in universities, and all manner of dames' and other schools, of the very highest class as of the very lowest; and Society at large, when we enter there, confirms with all its brilliant review-articles, successful publications, intellectual tea-circles, literary gazettes, parliamentary eloquences, the grand lesson we had. Other lesson in fact we have none, in these times. If there be a human talent, let it get into the tongue, and make melody with that organ. The talent that can say nothing for itself, what is it? Nothing; or a thing that can do mere drudgeries, and at best make money by railways.
- gate, but the apparatus was out of his reach, and he had
- “Crying? I was not crying. Why would I cry? I have my
- hammers, no weapons but knives. Holly’s cloak was fastened
- to slam the butt of his spear against the floor a dozen
- in water. He just managed to get in under the sluice gate
- was only a sellsword, no fit consort for a queen, and yet
- prayers and curses, the shrieks of terrified horses and
- but even if he did, he would fall back to sleep again afterward,
- and the girl's mind was in such a turmoil that she had
- been lost amidst the Land of Always Winter, a thousand
- mind me saying.” Brown Ben scratched at his speckled
- When the gluttony was done and all the half-eaten food
- slowly toward the north—he said nothing of the party
- Rowan spat in his face. Then she let him go and wiped her
- ever happened. Instead he took Jeyne by the arm and drew
- grabbed up knives, platters, flagons, anything that might
- (an odd red-breasted little bird, which inhabits the thick
- Lord Ramsay soon appeared as well, buckling on his sword
- Send her back, as a … a gesture of my regard. If their
- “Get in there, then, before the water freezes,” the
- and ran like a hare, her yellow silk dress gleaming in
- breeches that flapped about her legs like a ship’s sails
- “Home,” said Dany. “Naath. Butterflies and brothers.
- full, and see that it’s good and hot. Lord Ramsay wants
- Indian family, who had come to trade in a canoe from Caylen,
- tales Old Nan had told them of storms that raged for forty
- all on whores and such. He let me keep the jerkin, though.”
- He bowed low. “Worship. You look lovely. Well, you always
- In three strides he found his foot splashing in water.
- bricks. Rhaegal, still chained, was gnawing on the carcass
- “The one with the old gargoyles.” The boy’s gloves
- “Do as he says, Holly,” Rowan said. “There’s some
- up the steps, depositing her there with her back to the
- “His host lies not three days’ ride from here, snowbound
- “Them and us,” said Theon. “Even if we do get past
- Theon thought, remembering the wedding night and the things
- solid wall opened before her; it was another masked door.
- Silver’s sweet and gold’s our mother, but once you’re
- tried to jerk away, but the tabletop pinned him to his
- Willow scowled. “Someone stop her crying. That guard
- of three-halfpence, two fowls, one of which, the Indian
- “The Prince of Stink is come for some hot water,” one
- soon enough. And for what? Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, and
- turned against the icy wind and blown snow. Even the serjeant
- Obviously, the tide was rising; and, after seeking vainly
- Theon led the way up the stairs. I have climbed these steps
- dug for them. Two iron legions out of New Ghis, trained
- wolfskins fell away from her. Underneath them she was naked,
- sought her out. She did not know that he had even better
- “Dorne is too far away. To please this prince, I would