Account of an expedition to the interior of New Holland

Edited By Lady Mary Fox.

LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, =Publisher in Ordinary to His Majesty.= 1837.

Contents.

Chapter I.

Wonderful Discovery.—The Adventurers.—Marshy Lake.—The Canoe.—Troublesome Navigation.—Chain of Lakes.—Party of Natives.—Reception of the Travellers.—Singular People.—Early Emigrants.—The Settlement.—Exploring Party.—Encounter with Natives.—Native Allies.—Attack of Savages.—Defeat of the Assailants.—Savage Life.—Treaty of Peace.—Education of Savages.—Election of Senators. Page 1

Chapter II.

Increase of the Settlement.—Separation of the States.—Ecclesiastical Communities.—Concord among Sects.—Houses and Towns.—Penal Colonies.—Southlanders’ Hospitality.—Mode of receiving Company.—Feasts.—Animal Food.—Tame Animals.—Surprise at English Customs.—Carnivorous Propensity.—Lighting the Streets.—City of Bath. 25

Chapter III.

Duels.—Judicial Combats.—Existing Code of Honour.—Appeal to Arms.—Discussion on Duelling.—Mount Peril.—Noxious Vapours.—The Cavern. 41

Chapter IV.

Superstitious Notions.—Abolition of Duelling.—Interference of Providence.—Challenge to the Ordeal.—The Trial.—Conviction of the Offender.—Uncertainty of the Ordeal.—Ineffectual Prohibition.—Check against Slander.—Exclusion from Society.—Absurd Alternative.—Personal Courage.—Imputation of Cowardice.—Public Opinion.—War between Nations.—Challenges.—Fear of Disgrace. 53

Chapter V.

Female Honour.—Agreement among Women.—Penalty of Exclusion.—Law of Honour.—False Dignity.—New Penalty.—Compact against Duelling.—Ruffians and Calumniators.—Association against Duelling.—Court of Honour.—Abolition of Duelling. 70

Chapter VI.

Rough Notes.—Public Entertainments.—Dancing.—Grotesque Dance.—Throwing the Spear.—Female Dress.—Decorations.—Ear-rings.—Wedding-rings.—Anomalous Costume. 83

Chapter VII.

Forms of Government.—Senatorial Regulations.—Speakers.—Peculiar Debate.—Fundamental Laws.—Unwise Legislators.—Timely Improvements.—Legislative Problem.—Legislative Expedient.—Error in Government.—Division of Laws.—Repeal of Fundamental Laws.—Guard against Precipitancy.—Laws of Treason.—Mature Deliberation.—National Will. 95

Chapter VIII.

Mode of Election of Senators—of Representatives.—Personal Votes and Property-Votes.—Voting by Ballot.—Eligibility of Candidates.—Aboriginal Blood.—Mixed Blood.—Government Rent.—Public Expenditure.—Unwise Economy.—Choice of Statesmen.—Explanations. 112

Chapter IX.

Prediction Office.—Prophecies.—Useful Register.—Political Bustlers.—Disposal of Land.—Rents.—Laws of Tenancy.—Government Loans. 130

Chapter X.

An Arrest.—Criminal Jurisprudence.—Jurymen.—Qualification of Jurors.—Syndics.—Royal Privilege.—Proceedings in Court.—Witnesses.—The Verdict.—Unanimity in Juries.—Decision of the Judge.—Prevarication.—Oaths.—False Witnesses.—Inconsistency in requiring Oaths.—Public Opinion.—Marriage.—Succession to the Crown. 140

Chapter XI.

Punishment awarded to Criminals.—Capital Punishments.—Plea of Insanity.—Penitentiaries.—Houses of Correction.—Improvement in Laws.—Periodical Publications.—Editors of Newspapers.—State of Literature. 164

Chapter XII.

Schools.—Reform of the Calendar.—Art of Teaching.—General Education.—Religion and Politics.—Inconsistency of the Jesuits.—Unbelievers.—Direction of Electors.—Political Churches.—Violation of the Laws.—Infidelity.—Obedience to Law.—Enforced Religion.—Persecution.—Hypothetical Case.—Treatment of Insanity.—Professed Inspiration.—Impostors and Lunatics.—Changes in Europe.—Founders of the Colony. 176

Chapter XIII.

Preachers.—Divine Service.—Divisions of the Bible.—Funeral Service.—Burial in Cities.—Absurd Interments.—Monuments.—Private Mausoleums.—Harmless Absurdities.—Church Endowments.—State of the Clergy.—Religious Communities.—Admission Fees to Institutions.—Ecclesiastical Societies. 213

Chapter XIV.

Letter of Paul Wilkins. 229

Account Of An Expedition

To The

Interior Of New Holland.

Chapter I.

Wonderful Discovery.—The Adventurers.—Marshy Lake.—The Canoe.—Troublesome Navigation.—Chain of Lakes.—Party of Natives.—Reception of the Travellers.—Singular People.—Early Emigrants.—The Settlement.—Exploring Party.—Encounter with Natives.—Native Allies.—Attack of Savages.—Defeat of the Assailants.—Savage Life.—Treaty of Peace.—Education of Savages.—Election of Senators.

Our readers will, no doubt, be interested by the few particulars we have been able to collect of the late wonderful discovery, in the interior of New Holland, of a civilized nation of European origin, which had, in so remarkable a manner, been kept separate hitherto from the rest of the civilized world.

Mr. Hopkins Sibthorpe, who planned and conducted this singularly fortunate enterprise, was accompanied, it appears, in the expedition by another settler, Mr. William Jones, and Messrs. Thomas and Robert Smith (brothers), of the navy; who, together with Wilkins, a sailor, hired as their servant, constituted the whole party.

It was in the early part of August 1835 that these adventurous explorers took their departure from the settlement at Bathurst: this, as our readers are aware, is the last month of the winter of that hemisphere; though, from the greater mildness of the climate, it may be considered as spring. This season was chosen as the most suitable for an expedition in such a country as New Holland; in which, not only the heat of summer and autumn is often very oppressive, but also the scarcity of water is one of the most formidable impediments: and, on this occasion, a plentiful supply of water being essential, not only with a view to their personal wants, but also to the accomplishment of the peculiar plan they had resolved on trying, it was thought best to take an early advantage of the effects of the winter’s rains.

Their plan was no other than to construct a canoe, to enable them to proceed in a direction in which farther progress had hitherto been precluded by a vast expanse of marshy lake. This, as our readers are probably aware, from the published narratives of former expeditions, is, in moist seasons, a sort of Mere, or shallow water, encumbered with aquatic plants; but in times of great drought is, for a considerable extent, dry, or consisting of mud rather than water; constituting a sort of swampy plain, so choked up with a rank vegetation of reeds and flags as to present an almost insuperable obstacle to the traveller.

In the present expedition, accordingly, it was determined to choose a time when there might be a sufficiency of water to enable the adventurous explorers to proceed in a canoe; and they accordingly carried with them one or two horses (which they proposed afterwards to turn loose)—the iron-work, and as much as was thought necessary of the frame of a canoe, which they proposed to put together and complete on their arrival on the margin of the lake. And as it was impossible to carry with them a sufficient store of provisions for the whole of their contemplated voyage, they boldly resolved to trust in great measure to their guns and fishing tackle, providing only a sufficiency of salt to preserve such game and fish as they might procure in their way.

The details of the expedition, curious and highly interesting as they are in themselves, we are compelled to omit, lest they should occupy the space wanted for a far more valuable and important portion of the narrative. It will be sufficient, therefore, to say, omitting particulars, that they were enabled to put their design in execution; and having constructed a kind of light flat-bottomed boat, of poles covered with bark (of the kind the natives use for their canoes), and fitted up with a slight awning, to afford shelter from the sun and the dews, they embarked on the above-mentioned shallow lake, and proceeded in a north-west direction; sometimes rowing, assisted occasionally by a sail, and oftener pushing themselves on with poles through the tangled aquatic plants which grew on the muddy bottom.

Their progress was at first tediously slow; but they were at no loss for provision, as the waters abounded with fish and wildfowl, of which they continued to obtain a sufficient supply throughout the voyage. After two days of troublesome navigation they found the water become deeper, and gained a sight of some elevated land towards the west, which they reached on the evening of the third day: they here found the lake not terminated, but confined within narrow limits by hills, for the most part of a rocky, sterile, and uninviting character: at length it became a broad river, flowing in a northerly direction, and serving evidently as a drain to the great expanse of lake they had passed. This gave them hopes of reaching (which was their great object) some large navigable river, which they might follow to the sea: they proceeded, therefore, though with considerable delay and difficulty from shoals and rapids, till, after more than two days’ navigation, the high ground receded, and they found themselves entering on another great expanse of water, so extensive that, in pursuing their adventurous course nearly in the same direction, they were, for the greater part of one day, out of sight of land.

They now arrived at another course of rocky hills, of considerable elevation, through which the waters found an exit by a narrow gorge: through this they proceeded in a direction northwards for a considerable distance, when they found the river again expanding itself at intervals into a chain of lakes, smaller but deeper than those they had passed, and surrounded by a much more agreeable country, which continued to improve as they advanced. They landed in several places, and in one instance came in contact with a party of natives, who were of a less savage aspect than those in the vicinity of our settlements, and showed no signs of hostility, and much less of alarm and astonishment than had been expected. From this circumstance, and also from steel knives being in the possession of two or three of them, on which they appeared to set great value, it was conjectured that they must, in their wanderings, have, at some time or other, approached our settlements: their language, however, was perfectly unintelligible to Mr. Jones, though he had a considerable acquaintance with that of the natives near Sydney.

Some days after, as they continued their progress, they fell in with another party of natives, who excited still more wonder and speculation in our travellers, from their having among them ornaments evidently fashioned from the tusks of boars; these (as it was understood from the signs they made, in answer to the questions put to them by the same means) they described themselves as having hunted with their dogs, and speared. But all doubt was removed the next day, by the travellers actually obtaining a sight of a wild hog in the woods, and afterwards of a herd of wild cattle, which they distinctly saw with their glasses: these animals being well known not to be indigenous in New Holland, afforded strong indications of the vicinity of some European settlement; though, as they felt certain of being far distant from the coast, they were utterly lost in conjecture.

After proceeding in the manner above described, through a long chain of lakes connected by the river which they were continuing to navigate, through a country continually improving in beauty and fertility, and presenting a strong contrast to the dreary rocks and marshes they had left behind, they were at length surprised and gratified, on entering a lake somewhat more extensive than the last, to see several fishing-boats, the men in which they ascertained by their glasses to be decently clothed, and white men. They ventured to approach and to hail them; and, to their unspeakable surprise and delight, they received an answer in English: the English was, indeed, not precisely similar to their own, but not differing so much from it as many of our provincial dialects; and in a short time the two parties were tolerably intelligible to each other.

We are compelled to pass over the interesting detail of the meeting, which was equally gratifying and surprising to both the parties; of the eager curiosity of their mutual inquiries; and of the hospitable invitation given, and, as may be supposed, joyfully accepted by the travellers. Accompanying their hosts in one of the fishing-boats, they found before them, on turning the point of a wooded promontory which had intercepted their view, a rich and partially cultivated country, interspersed with cheerful-looking villages, having much of an English air of comfort; though the whole was in a far ruder condition than much of what they saw afterwards, as the point they had reached was the extreme skirt of a comparatively recent settlement.

The reception they met with was most friendly and every way refreshing, after an anxious and toilsome journey of above a month. They found themselves, on the second day after their arrival in the colony, the guests of the chief magistrate of a neat town of considerable size, where they were surrounded by visitors from all parts, eager to obtain and to afford information, and overwhelming them with pressing invitations.

We are compelled to pass over the particulars of the several steps by which the travellers arrived at the knowledge of the singular country and people in the midst of which they found themselves. We have only space for a brief summary of the results.

They found themselves, then, in a nation of European, and chiefly, though not entirely, of English extraction, which had had no intercourse with Europe, or with any other portion of the civilized world, for nearly three centuries. Their numbers were estimated at between three and four millions; and they were divided into eleven distinct communities, existing in a sort of loosely federal union, or rather in a friendly relation, sanctioned and maintained by custom more than by any formal compact. And they found these several states, though in some respects differing in their governments and other institutions, agreeing in the manifestation of a high degree of civilization, considering the disadvantage they laboured under in their seclusion from the rest of the world. “Many points too,” says Mr. Sibthorpe, in his journal, “in which they differ the most widely from the customs and institutions of the people from which they sprang, are such as can hardly be reckoned marks of barbarism, even by those who regard them with surprise, and even with disapprobation; but are rather the result of the singular and, as some would consider them, whimsical notions of the extraordinary persons who took the lead among the first settlers.”

These were two men of the name of Müller; one a German, settled in England, and the other his nephew, the son of an Englishwoman. The former appears to have been one of those unions of enthusiastic wildness, brilliant genius, and sanguine credulity which periods of great excitement—such as the commencement of the Reformation—are often found to call forth. He possessed great eloquence, and a power of exercising an unbounded influence over minds of a certain description. His nephew, with much of the uncle’s eccentricity, united a much clearer judgment, and seems gradually to have established a complete ascendancy over the mind, first of his uncle, and ultimately of all his followers; and to have used his influence in a manner which indicates most enlarged public spirit, and a great mixture, at least, of political wisdom.

It appears, that during the various tumults which took place during the early periods of the Reformation, several persons in England, and some in Germany, (the parties holding communication through the means of Müller and his connexions in both countries,) meditated a removal to some distant region, in which they should escape finally from strife and oppression, and establish a civil and religious community on such principles as they were fondly cherishing. After the proposal and rejection of various schemes, and after many delays and disappointments, the projected departure in search of a new settlement took place, under the guidance of their enthusiastic and adventurous leader. Instead of proceeding to America, as had been originally proposed, they were induced by some glowing descriptions they had heard, but which proved to consist chiefly of fable or exaggeration, to seek for the long-famed southern continent, the “Terra Australis Incognita.”

The curious and interesting particulars of their voyage, their various adventures, disappointments, and reiterated attempts, we are compelled to pass over. The result was their being ultimately driven by a storm on the coast of New Holland, somewhere, it is supposed, between lat. 10 and 20 south, and lon. 130 and 140 east, where one out of the four ships was wrecked on a coral reef, and two of the others driven ashore with considerable damage. They saved, however, not only their lives, but nearly all their property, including the live stock with which they had provided themselves; and it appears that their first idea was to repair their vessels, and proceed along the coast, in an endeavour to find a suitable spot for a settlement; the part on which they were cast being not only barren and uninviting but excessively marshy. This last circumstance compelled them to forego their design; for a fever broke out, and affected so many of them that they lost no time in removing to a healthier situation, eight or nine miles from the coast. Here the sick speedily recovered; and, as the spot seemed highly salubrious, though for the most part barren, with only a small proportion of land fit for cultivation near the banks of small rivers, they proceeded to build log-houses and cultivate the land; designing to make their settlement either temporary or permanent, as circumstances might determine.

Their decision was ultimately fixed by means of the intercourse they succeeded in establishing with a native tribe. Mutual good-will and confidence having been completely established between the settlers and the natives (chiefly, as it should seem, through the judicious exertions of the younger Müller),—and an increasing knowledge of each other’s language having established a free communication between the parties,—the settlers were interested by the glowing colours in which their new friends described a region in the interior, which they—that is, some of the very individuals who spoke of it, and the ancestors of the rest,—had formerly inhabited, and from which successive portions of their tribe had been from time to time expelled by more powerful hostile tribes. They were anxious to induce their European neighbours to settle there themselves, and enable them to reinstate themselves in their ancient abode. They easily perceived the vast superiority which European arts and arms would give to their new allies over enemies who had proved too powerful for themselves, and they hoped through their aid to re-establish themselves in a country which they had quitted with regret.

Moved by their representations, the settlers despatched two active young men, in company with some native guides, to explore this highly-vaunted region; they proceeded accordingly, nearly in a direct line from the coast, to a range of mountains, about ninety or a hundred miles in the interior, which they surmounted, not without difficulty, and then found themselves in an elevated plain of a most sterile character, extending for more than a hundred miles in the same direction: this they traversed with some difficulty, and arrived at another chain of rocky mountains, forming a still more formidable barrier, which they would have had great difficulty in surmounting but for the local knowledge of their guides.

On passing this, however, they were rewarded by the view of a most extensive and delightfully fertile region, watered with numerous streams from these mountains, and interspersed with beautiful lakes. The whole appearance of the country fully justified the descriptions given; and the accounts of these first explorers were so favourable that a second expedition was undertaken, with a view to a more complete examination of the country, by young Müller himself and four others, who passed a considerable time in exploring the district, not without some narrow escapes from the hostility of some of the wandering native tribes; and the result of their examination was so favourable, that the settlers were induced to come to the resolution of finally removing the colony to the interior.

This, after due preparation, they accomplished, moving in two separate divisions; the first consisting of the greater part of the most active of the adult males, both of the Europeans and their native allies, who were to prepare habitations, and break up land for tillage, &c. ready to receive the rest after an interval of some months. The entire removal was completed in the course of the third year from their first arrival on the coast. Their numbers appear to have been between three and four hundred, in all, of white people, besides a somewhat smaller number of natives; the country in which they had first settled admitting of only a small and scattered population, of tribes subsisting by the chase.

Very soon after taking possession of their new abode they were attacked, in spite of all their endeavours to preserve peace, by the native tribes of the interior, moved by their inveterate animosity against their ancient enemies: the settlers, however, gained an easy and complete victory in every encounter; their fire-arms, though only the old-fashioned, clumsy matchlocks of those days, being sufficient to strike terror into savages unacquainted with gunpowder; though, independent of their guns, their bows would have given them a decided superiority. It is well known how skilful and how formidable were the English archers of those days; and they could annoy the natives, among whom the bow is unknown, at three times the distance to which these could throw their spears. The native allies also, having been taught by the Europeans to use the bow, which, even in their less skilful hands, had an advantage over the spear,—and being also furnished with cutlasses, hatchets, and steel heads to their pikes,—now proved greatly an overmatch for their former conquerors, who had only wooden swords and bone-headed spears.

A peace ensued, which, however, was for several years interrupted from time to time by predatory incursions and irregular renewals of hostilities. This state of things, with all its inconveniences, appears to have had the advantage of cementing the friendship between the settlers and their native allies; each party feeling the other’s importance for security against a common enemy. The whites, accordingly, seem to have been assiduous and successful in civilizing these natives, with whom they were thus thrown into close contact.

Ultimately, the colony was delivered from all danger from the hostile tribes by an event which threatened disaster. A formidable combination was secretly formed among all the tribes for a considerable distance round, for the purpose of making a united attack, by surprise, with all their forces. It was so far successful that a band, far outnumbering all that the settlers could muster, unexpectedly attacking one of their villages, obliged the inhabitants to fly in the utmost haste, and spread the alarm through the whole colony. This success, however, proved their ruin; for, with the genuine improvidence of savages, instead of rapidly pushing forward their forces, they eagerly fell to plundering the various stores, especially of provisions, which had been abandoned; and, as an army of savages is never well provided with a commissariat, gladly betook themselves to feasting on what they found.

Among other things, was a large supply of beer; for the settlers had brought with them, and successfully practised, the art of brewing, with which they had been familiar at home. Wine they had not as yet attained to, though they had begun the cultivation of the vine, as well as of several other European fruit-trees. The savages indulged in the liquor with characteristic excess; and, while they were lost in intoxication, set fire, either accidentally or intentionally, to the wooden houses and stacks with which they were surrounded. The fire raged fiercely in all directions; and most of the men were too much stupified with liquor to escape the flames, and were either stifled or burnt; a considerable number, however, were rescued by the settlers, who had by this time come together, and who at once saved and took prisoners most of the survivors, who were too helplessly drunk for either resistance or flight.

This event, which at once and for ever broke the power of their enemies, has been ever since annually commemorated in the colony; a day of solemn thanksgiving being concluded by the lighting of large bonfires in the evening, by parties who pass round among themselves a spear, such as the natives use, and a cup of beer, of which each tastes, in memory of their deliverance. This festival which the Müllers instituted, accompanying the celebration with apposite reflections on drunkenness and its effects, has probably tended, along with other circumstances, to keep up an almost universal habit of sobriety throughout the colony.

This interesting portion of their early history, thus impressed on their minds and familiarized to their thoughts from childhood, creates an indelible association of the idea of drunkenness, not only with those of helplessness and disaster, but also with that of the character of brutish and stupid _savages_. Indeed, in several other points also, our travellers found the idea of _savage_ life so associated with some others in the minds of these people, as to influence considerably their conduct and habits of thought. They have a deep-seated and habitual contempt for every thing which, according to their notions, savours of barbarism; and this shows itself in many points, which to a modern European would be likely to appear whimsical. The younger Müller, though indefatigable in his kindness towards the native tribes, appears to have cherished this feeling in his own people. He laboured strenuously to reclaim and civilize the savages, and was equally anxious to guard against the reverse process—the approximation of the white men towards the habits of the savages: and, as he seems to have been a very able though eccentric man, and possessed boundless influence over the colonists, who were under his government for above half a century, he succeeded in effectually stamping his own character on the nation, and perpetuating his institutions.

The hostile tribes, after the above event, surrendered at discretion; and they consented (those of them who had a considerable proportion of able-bodied men remaining alive) to remove beyond a certain specified boundary, far beyond the then limits of the colony; but several tribes, which now consisted almost entirely of women and children, and were consequently hardly capable of providing for themselves, were, at their own entreaty, received as subjects, and incorporated, along with the previously-allied natives, into the body of the settlers.

The European and aboriginal races became in time completely blended together; for it appears to have been one of the principles most earnestly maintained and inculcated by their extraordinary leader, to allow of no hereditary degradation; no subjection of one race of men to another on the ground of colour or caste, but to make all subjects of the state necessarily admissible to the rights of citizenship. Yet, on the other hand, he was well aware of the actual inferiority of the aborigines as individuals and as a race, and was fully alive to the evil of placing inferior men on a level with those morally and intellectually superior. The maxim, accordingly, which he continually dwelt on, and laboured to embody in practice, was, that it is not the colour of the skin, but the heart and head, that makes a man savage or civilized. Education, accordingly, was the means adopted for reclaiming and for preserving men from barbarism: and examinations, to ascertain how far each had profited by the education bestowed, were made the test for admissibility into the highest public stations.

This principle has been in great measure adhered to in the several states into which the settlement was afterwards divided, though differing from each other in many respects in their forms of government. And yet, as Müller used himself to observe, one man may be much superior in fitness for certain public offices to another, who may be far beyond him in proficiency in a prescribed course of studies, and in everything that can be ascertained in any regular examination; but then, he used to add, when you come to a greater number, one hundred men well taught will always be superior to a hundred untaught, and fitter to govern the community. In all the states, accordingly, their senates are always required to consist of men who have given proof of their proficiency in a prescribed course of study; but these are left free to choose, and sometimes do choose, for the discharge of important offices, men who are inferior in this respect, but qualified by natural sagacity and practical habits of business.

Chapter II.

Increase of the Settlement.—Separation of the States.—Ecclesiastical Communities.—Concord among Sects.—Houses and Towns.—Penal Colonies.—Southlanders’ Hospitality.—Mode of receiving Company.—Feasts.—Animal Food.—Tame Animals.—Surprise at English Customs.—Carnivorous Propensity.—Lighting the Streets.—City of Bath.

The settlement, on being thus (about five or six years from its commencement) freed from all external molestation, increased in prosperity, and extended itself rapidly in several directions inland. Towards the sea they had no temptation to advance; being separated from it by an extensive district of great sterility, and of difficult passage. Inward, the abundance of fertile land, and the numerous lakes with which our travellers had been struck, and which afforded easy intercourse even between settlements at a considerable distance, invited them to overspread the country as fast as their rapidly-increasing population required. Their numbers seem to have advanced at about the same rate as those of some of the North-American settlements.

The division into separate states was not, as the travellers found to their surprise, the result of discord, but had been planned and commenced by their founder himself. He had, it seems, foreseen, or fancied that he foresaw, an ultimate necessity for such a separation; and he judged it best that it should begin even in his own lifetime, before there was any advantage in it, except that of setting an example and establishing a precedent for amicable separation. He founded, accordingly, within forty years from their first settling, a second perfectly independent community, on the opposite side of the lake, near which the first had been located. The original settlement still forms one of the states, and retains the name of Müllersfield, which it received from the founders: the new one, from its singular beauty of situation, he called Eutopia (fine place), probably with something of a covert allusion also to the well-known fabulous Utopia (no place). The most perfect friendliness and freedom of intercourse continued between the two states; and, without owning any common authority, they consulted together, like any two individual neighbours who are on friendly terms, respecting any matters in which they had a common concern: and the principles of the procedure having been clearly laid down, and practically established, the example was afterwards repeatedly followed as the colonization extended itself; and fresh swarms, as it were, issued forth, till the number of the separate states amounted to eleven.

A similar principle has been acted on with respect to ecclesiastical communities. The number of separate churches amounts to no less than seventeen; though some of these consist chiefly of converted native tribes, together with the missionaries residing among them. These churches are, of course, not coextensive with the several states, but on the footing of the early churches founded by the apostles, who instituted several distinct ones,—for instance, in the single province of Macedonia; viz. those of Philippi, Thessalonica, Berœa, &c. They are all, and have ever been, with a few temporary exceptions, in concord and communion with each other, but under distinct governments, and differing in some non-essential customs and institutions. They seem to have made good a favourite maxim of Müller’s on that subject;—that men are always most likely to live in friendly agreement in essentials, when they are not so closely connected as to be obliged to agree in matters intrinsically indifferent. “Two men,” he used to observe, “who may be very friendly as neighbours, might quarrel, if they were obliged to live together, as to the hour at which they should dine,—the keeping of the windows open or shut, &c.;—in which one party would necessarily be compelled to give way to the other: whereas they may be very good friends while each follows his own taste in such matters.”

* * * * *

We shall subjoin such scattered extracts as our space will admit, of those portions of our travellers’ Journal which illustrate the more strange and singular particulars of the habits of this interesting people.

Nearly all their houses—in the towns, all, without exception—are flat-roofed, like those in the East; whether from a fancy of imitating the custom they read of in Scripture, or for the convenience of having an airy unconfined place to walk or sit on. In the towns, there is, as in those of the East, a thoroughfare for foot-passengers along the tops of the houses; and, in the larger towns, the streets are crossed occasionally by light bridges.

The houses in the towns, and all but the meaner sort of cottages in the newly-settled part of the country, are without any chimneys opening to the air: the smoke from the fireplaces of one or two, or more, adjoining houses, passes into a sort of chamber (swept from time to time), from which it is forced out by machinery into a flue branching off into pipes, which carry it back to the bottom of each fire; so that it burns its own smoke. When the visitors were describing to some Eutopians the European towns, these people remarked that London, for instance, though so much improved since the times of which they had historical records from their ancestors, must still have a very smoky atmosphere; and that, to walk along the streets, shut in by houses on both sides, must be very unpleasant, for want of open prospect and free circulation of air.

* * * * *

It was with much difficulty that these people were brought to understand the nature of the colony from which their visitors came; not that they were in general dull of apprehension, but they could scarcely satisfy themselves that they had rightly understood the accounts given them. To people a new settlement with convicted criminals,—to form a new nation of the scum and refuse of mankind,—appeared to them so preposterous, that for some time they could not help supposing they must have misunderstood their informants. “To bring together a number of villains,” they said, “to a country where good character is not the rule, but the exception, allowing them free intercourse with each other must be the most effectual mode of hardening and confirming them in wickedness, and entailing the same character on successive generations:” and though it was explained to them that one great object of the plan was to reform the criminals, the accounts which truth constrained their visitors to give of the actual state of morals in the colony did not seem to satisfy them. They had wondered at first, they said, that such a scheme should have been originally thought of, and now they wondered still more that it should be persevered in.

* * * * *

The travellers were entertained with the kindest and most liberal hospitality, according to the notions of the Southlanders (such is the general name by which the inhabitants of all the states distinguish themselves from their European ancestors and other Europeans); but their hospitality differs considerably from ours. When residing as guests with any family, they partook of the family meals; but when invited to a party, as they frequently were, to meet the principal gentry of the neighbourhood,—who were anxious both to show attention to the strangers and to gratify their own curiosity,—it was found that there is no such thing in this country as what we call a dinner-party; that is, the company did not sit down together to a regular meal, but partook of refreshments something more of the character of an English luncheon, which was provided in all the superior houses in a separate room. The guests dropped into this eating-room irregularly, and seating themselves in small promiscuous parties at small tables set out there, were served by the attendants with the various dishes provided. They stayed as long as they pleased; conversed occasionally with their neighbours, as we do at an irregular luncheon, and returned to the “company-room” (as it is called), without ceremony, whenever they chose. No refreshments were brought into this last, except such as correspond to what we have at evening parties,—such as cakes, lemonade, wine and water, ices (in those districts which are near the mountains), dried or fresh fruits, &c.: this they consider as what they call the most “honourable”—what we should call “stylish”—mode of receiving company.

When our habits were described to them, they expressed their wonder that a civilized people should _make feasts as the savages do_. “The half-reclaimed native tribes,” they said, “invite their friends whom they wish to honour to a solemn feast, at which, having provided a large quantity of their best provisions and liquor, and exerted what skill they have in cookery, the guests all seat themselves, with sundry formalities, round the food that is dressed, and regale themselves altogether; but with the Southlanders such an arrangement as this is only adopted as a convenience, when there is a large number of persons to be fed in the least troublesome way.” They accordingly promised, laughingly, to take their visitors to something like an English dinner-party; and the party to which they invited them (it was during the season of hay harvest) consisted of about two dozen mowers, with several of their wives and children, seated round a long table, with the master at the head of it, and supping on an ample supply of substantial food, served up in five or six huge dishes.

The cookery among the higher classes is for the most part plain and simple, and the few who have refined much upon the luxuries of the table are exposed to something of the same sort of contemptuous ridicule that the being called a dandy incurs among us. But a circumstance which early attracted the attention of the visitors was, that they found the animal food to consist (besides eggs, cheese, and various preparations of milk) entirely of fish and game. The pork, which they often met with, they found to be always the flesh of the wild swine: these were derived from those brought over by the first settlers, who turned them all loose into the woods; and the chase of the wild-boar is eagerly pursued by many of the gentry. Wild cattle are also met with in some parts, descended from such as had accidentally strayed; and the flesh of these is eaten, as well as that of the kangaroo, emu, and other indigenous animals: but the visitors one day, in the course of conversation in the eating-room, expressed their surprise at having never seen any mutton served up, though sheep were not uncommon. The Southlanders had never heard the word mutton; but, when it was explained to them that it meant the flesh of the sheep, they replied, “That they kept their sheep very carefully for their wool, and that there were no wild sheep in the country: but when it was explained to them that we kept both sheep and oxen chiefly for the purpose of feeding on their flesh, they were both astonished and disgusted that we should have retained such a _barbarian_ custom (for they regard themselves as many degrees more civilized than their European ancestors) as that of killing and eating domestic animals.”

It was urged (and they freely admitted it) that the loss of life is no greater to a tame than to a wild animal: “That is true,” they said, “as far as the _animal_ is concerned; but it makes a great difference to _our_ feelings. A tame animal is a sort of friend, a member of the family: it seems a sort of treacherous breach of hospitality to kill in cold blood a creature which you have reared and fed from its birth, and then devour its flesh.” They expressed still more surprise (for they are keen sportsmen) at learning that some Europeans were vehement in their censures of hunting, fowling, and fishing, as cruel; and yet fed without scruple on beef and mutton. “We declare war,” they said, laughing, “perhaps an unjust war, against wild animals, and kill them as enemies; but you assassinate your friends.”—“We urged,” says the journalist, “the necessity of keeping within bounds the numbers of our domestic animals; and expressed our apprehension that the Southlanders would in time find themselves quite overstocked with sheep, oxen, and fowls.” They replied at the moment, merely, “that no such apprehension had ever occurred to them.”

But, on returning to what we should call the drawing-room, we soon found that much interest was excited by the accounts of what appeared to this most singular people our strange custom. We were surrounded by ladies, who inquired, with an amusing mixture of good-humoured ridicule, wonder, and horror, into all the particulars respecting mutton; and one lady surprised us by asking, among other things, what kind of flesh was that of horses, dogs, and cats, and by what name we called it. When informed that, though we kept these animals, we never thought of eating them, she replied, “Why, I had understood that you ate the _flesh of domestic animals_, and that you found it _necessary_ to do so, for fear of their _overstocking you with their numbers_! How comes it that you are not overrun with horses, dogs, and cats?” To say the truth, we were rather dumbfounded by this question; having, in fact, assigned as a reason what we had been accustomed to hear and repeat without any examination into its soundness. We could only allege that, in all these points, we conformed to what had always been the practice of our ancestors and theirs, and of almost all other nations: in this we were borne out by the testimony of those of the company who were well read in antiquities.

Several of these people, indeed, are good scholars, and well acquainted with the history (as far as was known three hundred years ago) of other nations, besides their own. They adverted to the descriptions of Homer’s heroes: one of them would, when about to entertain his friends, have a sheep brought into his tent, cut its throat with his own royal hands, and then, with a skilful hand,—which the poet never fails to celebrate,—cut it up into slices and broil them on skewers over a charcoal fire. They remembered, also, the accounts given of some East-Indian tribes, who, when their relatives are grown old and infirm, kill them, to save them from lingering decay, and hold a pious and solemn feast on their flesh. But as these customs had worn away in the early progress of civilization, they wondered that a still further refinement had not, among us, confined the carnivorous propensity of man to wild animals exclusively, and led us, as it had them, to regard with disgust the eating of (as they expressed it) one of the family, whose eggs, milk, labour, or wool had long ministered to our comforts.

* * * * *

The description of our cities in their present condition, as contrasted with that of the sixteenth century, and of our whole mode of life, was exceedingly interesting to these people; but nothing did they admire more than our description of the gas-lights. In the midst, however, of their enquiries and admiration, one sly-looking old gentleman observed, “that if we would honour him with a visit in his city of Bath (capital of a state of the same name), he would excite even our admiration by the spectacle of an illumination still more splendid.” In our visit there, where we were most kindly received, our host walked through the streets with us, showing us the principal buildings, and introduced us into the Senate-house, where the public business was going on.

On our return to his house, he asked us (this was about seven o’clock in the morning) what we thought of the lighting of the streets. We answered, that we observed neither any lighting of them, nor need of it, as it was a bright sunshine. “And is not this,” said he, “as good a light as your gas? We have not,” he added, “gone so far as you in arts; but we have the advantage of you in availing ourselves of the gifts of nature; for, as you must have observed, we are all alert and about our business at day-break; while you, by your own account, allow three or four hours of daylight in the spring and summer to be utterly wasted, while you are abed; and then go about your business at night, like owls and bats, but without their advantage of being able to see in the dark; so that you are forced to light yourselves with gas. It was,” said he, “a very ingenious contrivance you were telling us of t’other day, by which you distil fresh water from the sea; but pray do you, when there are plenty of fresh springs, let all the water run to waste, that you may have the triumph of distilling from the brine?”

We endeavoured to explain to him the causes of our late hours; but we were astounded when he had made us compute the saving in oil, and gas, and tallow, which might be effected by a general resolution to _use daylight as far as it would go_.

The city at which this conversation took place is named from its celebrated warm baths, supplied by springs issuing from a mountain in the vicinity; one of the greatest curiosities in the country, both from the natural phenomena it exhibits (being evidently an extinct volcano), from which it received its name of Mount Peril, and from the extraordinary tradition of the superstitious ordeal formerly connected with it.

Chapter III.

Duels.—Judicial Combats.—Existing Code of Honour.—Appeal to Arms.—Discussion on Duelling.—Mount Peril.—Noxious Vapours.—The Cavern.

The visit of the travellers to Mount Peril, in the state of Bath, was preceded, and in some measure probably caused, by a conversation casually occurring on the subject of duels; and the notes taken of this, it may be as well first to lay before the reader.

Much inquiry and mutual communication appear to have taken place, as was to be expected, between the Southlanders and their guests respecting the institutions and manners of their respective countries; and among others the subject of duelling, as prevailing among the Europeans and Americans, happened one day to be introduced in a mixed company. A large proportion of the younger persons present expressed their astonishment that a people pretending to civilization should fight out their disputes “like the savages.” This expression, as appears from several of the notices already recorded, was perpetually in their mouths; and some added, that the savages in their code of honour had the advantage of the Europeans. The New-Hollanders in these parts have, it seems, in respect of their duels, similar customs to those that have been observed by our settlers.

It has long been known that the aborigines of New South Wales leave all quarrels between individuals to be settled by a solemn judicial combat, the community interfering no farther than to see fair play. But their notions of fair play differ considerably from ours. If it, indeed, does not appear clearly which is the party aggrieved, they fight it out, man to man; the tribe being present as bystanders, while the combatants engage with spears or waddies (wooden swords) till the _satisfaction_ is complete. But if one of the parties is adjudged to have the preponderance of justice on his side, he is allowed to bring a friend with him, as an auxiliary; and in very flagrant cases, even two or more, according to the character of the offence to be avenged.

In all cases, the offending party, however clear his guilt may be, is allowed to fight for his life; but in some cases, of course, against such odds as render it next to impossible he should escape. This, the Southlanders observed, was a degree better than the European duels, in which the regulations of our code of honour require the parties, however palpably one of them may be in the wrong, to meet on equal terms, or with an inequality only in favour of the one who may chance to be the better shot or swordsman.

Others of the company entered more fully into the discussion of the general grounds on which duelling is to be reprobated, being cordially joined in their censure by Mr. Jones, who urged the objections, with which every one is familiar, against the wickedness of taking away a fellow-creature’s life, and exposing one’s own, in revenge for a trifling affront—the absurdity of calling it a satisfaction to stand to be shot at, and other such topics, which it is unnecessary to enlarge on, as they may be read in numerous essays and tales, and heard at every tea-table.

The Messrs. Smith, on the other hand (naval men, as has been already mentioned) took the other side, and endeavoured to vindicate the existing code of honour. They urged that it is needless and nugatory to go about to prove that a duel is a bad thing, and that to censure the laws of honour on that ground is as unfair as to censure the law of the land on the ground that imprisonment and hanging are evils, these being the penalties denounced against a violation of the laws.

The requisition to expose one’s life in a duel is, in like manner, the penalty denounced against a violation of the rules established in the society of gentlemen. The law of honour, they said, does not enjoin men to seek a duel as a desirable thing, but, on the contrary, to act in such a manner as to preclude all occasion for an appeal to arms; and that the penalty which any system of rules holds out against the violation of them should be regarded as something to be carefully avoided: this, so far from being an objection to the system, is essential to its maintenance. As for the unfairness of putting the injured and injuring party on a level, _that_ they did not deny; but contended that it was an unavoidable evil, as in the case of war between two independent states. That every war is an evil,—that in every war one party must be in the wrong, and very often both: all this is universally admitted, but all this does not answer the practical question, whether, on the ground that war is an evil, a state should submit, and proclaim itself ready to submit, to any extent of encroachment and aggression from foreign nations without resistance. “If you go to war,” it might be urged, “with those who have wronged you, you put yourself on equal terms with the wrong-doer, and are likely to suffer as much or more than the offending party.” “Very true,” it might be answered, “but we cannot help that; if we could, we would make all the evil of the war fall on the nation that has injured us; but as it is, we must do the best we can to deter our neighbours from injuring us: having no common superior to appeal to, we have no alternative but to fight for our rights, or to be insulted and oppressed with impunity.”

When it was urged in reply, that, though nations have not, individuals have, a common authority to appeal to—that of the community to which they belong, this was roundly denied; and it was contended that the appeal to single combat does not take place in cases when the law of the land provides adequate redress, but in those only where it either cannot or will not afford any, or any but such as would be a mere mockery to the feelings of the sufferer. A man, they urge, does not challenge any one for robbing him of his purse, or for firing his barn, but for injuries of quite a different description, far more grievous to one moving in a certain circle of society, but which the law either refuses to take cognizance of at all, or for which it provides such redress as would aggravate the evil by rendering the sufferer ridiculous. Now a man resigns to the community his natural right of personal self-defence on the implied condition that the community shall protect him; and in cases, therefore, where it either cannot, or will not, fulfil this condition, his original natural right remains unimpaired. Thus, when a man is suddenly assaulted by a robber, he is free to defend his person and property as well as he can; and on the same principle, when the injury is of such a character as the law will not, or cannot, defend him from, he is left to guard his own honour with his own hand.

As to the evils resulting from duels, they observed that it is most unfair not to take into account—though to calculate would be impossible—the immense amount of evils prevented, and which there is reason to suppose would take place but for the apprehension of a duel. The insolence, the falsehood, the slander, the base and the overbearing conduct, which are daily kept in check in many thousands of persons by the recollection that there is such a thing as being “called out” for such behaviour, is what no one can compute with any approach to accuracy; these being preventive and negative effects, and therefore incapable of being calculated, and liable to be underrated.

Some idea, however, they added, may be formed of these effects of the laws of honour by looking to the conduct of those classes of persons who are exempted from them. The ancient Greeks and Romans, for instance, who are cried up as exempt from this Gothic barbarism, were accustomed, as we see from the specimens of their orators that have come down to us, publicly to revile each other in the grossest language. The Mahometans also, of all ranks, appear to be, with few exceptions, very much what Europeans would characterize by the term “blackguards;” and the same description seems very applicable to the people of the Celestial empire, from the haughty mandarin downwards.

In Europe, again, said these gentlemen, we see that those among the higher classes—viz. ladies and clergymen, (it is to be presumed the Messrs. Smith had met with unfavourable specimens of these, and were rashly judging from such specimens,)—who are exempt from this law, are apt to avail themselves of that exemption by indulging themselves in the use of such language, and in such violation of truth and of decorum in their attacks on opponents as a layman would be deterred from by the apprehension of personal danger; so that, on the whole, it was contended that the evil of the lives lost in duels—an extremely small number—may be reckoned a cheap price paid by society for the advantages of civilized and well-regulated manners. And, after all, it was added, even that evil is not to be laid to the charge of the law of honour as a necessary accompaniment, since, if all persons adhered constantly to the rules of good society, there would never be occasion for a duel; in the same manner as there would never be occasion, if all men would comply with the law of the land, for any of the penalties of the law to be actually inflicted.

An old gentleman named Christopher Adamson, of the State of Bath, who was present at this discussion, now came forward to declare his conviction that these arguments, though not without plausibility, were entirely unsound, and his confidence that he should be able to establish this to the satisfaction of the whole party; but he proposed to defer giving his reasons till they should have viewed a spot in his neighbourhood, curious and interesting on many accounts, and closely and historically connected with the subject under discussion.

This was the celebrated Mount Peril (already alluded to), in the immediate vicinity of the city of Bath. The invitation was accepted; and the travellers shortly after set out on their excursion to visit this mountain. It plainly appears to be an extinct volcano. The settlers found it regarded with superstitious awe by the natives, who had among them a tradition of smoke having been seen at times to issue from it, and who regarded it as the habitation of certain malignant deities, of a similar character to the Pèlè venerated in the island of Hawaii (Owhyhee). The medicinal warm springs flowing from the foot of it gave occasion to the fixing of the city of Bath (thence so named) in the neighbourhood. It is one of the oldest states, the warm baths having early acquired such repute as to be highly attractive.

The circumstance which gave rise to the appellation of Mount Peril was the existence of certain caverns and fissures on one of its sides, emitting at times noxious vapours, which had more than once proved fatal to those who had incautiously ventured too near them. These were reputed by the natives to be the abode of evil spirits, destructive to such as approached them: and in the etymological sense of the word spirit (_spiritus_, blast) this might be said to be literally true; for our travellers soon ascertained that the danger arose from a deleterious gas, the same that in coalpits is called the choke-damp, found also in the celebrated “Grotto del Cane” in Italy, named and long celebrated for the cruel experiments practised on dogs for the gratification of travellers. This gas, now well known to every smatterer in chemistry as the carbonic acid gas, so poisonous when received into the lungs, issues forth, it should seem, in irregular blasts from these caverns, so as to render them more dangerous of approach at some times than at others; so that many persons have passed with impunity spots which have at different times affected others with alarming or even fatal suffocation.

The cavern which the travellers inspected the most closely is situated at the foot of a perpendicular cliff, about fifty feet in height, from the top of which the mouth may be seen very distinctly and with perfect safety; the gas being, as is well known, so much heavier than common air that there is no danger of its rising even near so high as the top of the cliff. The visitors tried the experiment of letting down by a rope, with a chain at the lower end of it, a little iron grating brought for the purpose, containing (as a humane substitute for a living dog) splinters of dry wood set on fire, which being lowered when in a full blaze into the cavern’s mouth, were suddenly and completely extinguished. This cavern was easily accessible from below, as it opened a kind of terrace of nearly level ground, called “the Ordeal Path;” but though many persons had passed it with impunity, it was considered too hazardous an experiment to be wantonly risked.

Chapter IV.

Superstitious Notions.—Abolition of Duelling.—Interference of Providence.—Challenge to the Ordeal.—The Trial.—Conviction of the Offender.—Uncertainty of the Ordeal.—Ineffectual Prohibition.—Check against Slander.—Exclusion from Society.—Absurd Alternative.—Personal Courage.—Imputation of Cowardice.—Public Opinion.—War between Nations.—Challenges.—Fear of Disgrace.

Mr. Adamson afterwards proceeded to relate the circumstances connected with the cavern. Many superstitious notions, it seems, and much tendency to give credit to tales of supernatural mystery had been brought from Europe by several of the original settlers, trained as they had been in the then prevailing credulity, and many of them tinctured with fanaticism. It is not to be wondered therefore, that, ignorant as they were of physical phenomena, several should have given more or less credit to the reports of the natives respecting evil demons dwelling in these caverns; the dangerous nature of them having been proved in some instances by fatal experience.

The employment of one of them for the purpose of an ordeal originated long after. “It ought in the first place to be acknowledged,” said Mr. Adamson, “that the barbarian institution of duels did exist among us, though now long since exploded.”

They were not of common occurrence; but he added that his father distinctly remembered as a boy the final abolition of the practice, in the manner about to be related. The duel was regarded—and such is well known to have been its original design—as a kind of ordeal, as a solemn appeal to Heaven, which it was supposed would not fail to interfere in support of the rightful combatant.

And here Mr. Sibthorpe had the candour to interpose a remark, that, though _duels_ have long since ceased to be considered in that light, the general principle is very far from being exploded among a large proportion of our own countrymen, who frequently apply the terms “providential,” and even “miraculous,” to the detection of murderers; the frustration of schemes of injustice; the escape of pious men from dangers of shipwreck or fire, &c. and who speak of pestilential diseases, conflagrations, and other fatal accidents, as judgments from Heaven on the sufferers; evidently referring to a supposed special interference of Providence to allot temporal successes or adversities according to the deserts of the parties; and often setting down as little better than an atheist any one who questions such a doctrine.

“Now,” said he, “if it be admitted that there is a special and extraordinary interference of Providence for the immediate temporal punishment of the wicked, and for the securing of success to a righteous cause, there seems no reason why this should not be looked for in the case of a judicial combat. Our ancestors were at least as wise as we, and more consistent, if we deride or reprobate the idea of a special interposition of Providence in the case of a single combat, while we look for it in all _other_ cases. And you well know,” added he to Mr. Jones, “how strongly the doctrine I allude to is set forth in newspapers—in magazines—in publications of various descriptions, and, not least, in the nursery-books which are first put into the hands of children.”

This could not be denied. “Well, such,” continued Mr. Adamson, “had been our belief as well as yours. But while the trial by single combat was retained under an altered character, the other kinds of ordeal—such as the hot ploughshare, &c. to which women, as well as men, had in former times been exposed—fell completely into desuetude.”

Among the Southlanders the institution was, by an accidental circumstance, reintroduced. It seems that a woman, named Margaret Brucker, had been grossly defamed by a neighbour, and being highly indignant at the imputations cast on her virtue, and conscious of perfect innocence, she appealed to the judgment of Heaven, and challenged her accuser to accompany her publicly along the mountain side, by what was afterwards called the ‘Ordeal Path,’ to pass by the goblin cavern, the one viewed by our travellers. She professed her full confidence that her innocence would protect her from the demons residing there, and that the false accusation would be visited by a divine judgment on her who had devised it. Margaret appears to have been a perfectly sincere enthusiast, and to have possessed that fervid eloquence which is the result of genuine strong feeling. This, together with youth, beauty, and the sympathy excited by her distress of mind, operated so strongly on the superstitious feelings of the people that they vehemently seconded her proposal; and the woman who had accused her dared not refuse the trial.

The parties accordingly set forth, attended by a great concourse of eager spectators, who ranged themselves on the edge of the cliff overhanging the cavern in breathless expectation of the results. The magistrates had only ventured to exert their authority so far as to require that ropes should be let down from the top of the cliff, and secured by straps to the body of each of the women, so that in case of danger they might be safely drawn up.

Margaret, with a firm and undaunted step, walked unhurt close along the mouth of the cavern. Her companion, who had been observed to become pale and agitated as they approached the scene of trial, sank down insensible at the entrance of the cavern. The mingled shouts of wonder, alarm, horror, and exultation proceeding from the spectators of this complete fulfilment of the prophecy may easily be imagined. The fainting victim was drawn up by the rope to the top of the cliff, to all appearance dead. By sprinkling her with water, however, she gradually revived; and on being restored to her senses and speech, confessed, with much awe and contrition, the entire falsity of the stories she had circulated, and which she had fabricated through jealousy. She acknowledged, and no doubt fully believed, that she had been struck down by the demon of the goblin cavern as a just judgment on her calumny. Of course Margaret Brucker was venerated as little less than a prophetess, and the ordeal rose into high and general repute.

Several, indeed, of the more sagacious entertained at the time the opinion which it would then have been most discreditable to avow, but which has long since become universal, that the one party escaped unhurt because she walked erect across the opening of the cavern, the noxious gas being so heavy that its influence does not usually extend much more than one or two feet above the surface of the ground; and that the other, through the agitation of conscious guilt and superstitious terror, either turned giddy, or stumbled over a stone, and falling down, was immediately exposed to the full current of the vapour. This is agreeable to what is found to take place in the celebrated Grotto del Cane, which is entered with impunity by men, but is fatal to a dog (whose head is so much nearer to the ground) if the poor beast is compelled to remain over one of the fissures from which the gas issues.

The ordeal, however, was a very uncertain one, from the variations occurring in the quantity of vapour emitted. Sometimes both parties were suffocated, and oftener both escaped unhurt; and in some instances, as might have been expected, it happened that a person whose character had been cleared by the ordeal, was afterwards, by circumstances subsequently brought to light, proved, or violently suspected, to have been guilty.

Instances of this kind, in conjunction with the advancement of intellectual culture, gradually weakened, in progress of time, the belief in the supernatural character of the ordeal. It was, however, for a long time, frequently appealed to, both by women and men, from all the states; and, in spite of laws which were passed, but which it was found impossible fully to enforce, prohibiting any such trial, and denouncing as murder the offence of being accessary to any one’s exposure to it in case of a fatal result,—the custom still received the sanction of many who disavowed all belief of miraculous interference in the case of such trials.

“They defended,” said Mr. Adamson, “by nearly the same arguments as I have lately heard from you, both duels, such as you apply the name to, and these which were always very justly regarded as a kind of duel; since there is no essential difference between calling on your adversary to stand a pistol-shot or a poisonous blast. It was conducive, they contended, to the preservation of good manners, and of a high and delicate sense of honour in both sexes, that a man should be restrained from ungentlemanly behaviour, and from lightly taxing another with it, by the apprehension of personal danger; and that female purity should be guarded in like manner. ‘It is,’ they said, ‘a useful additional check against lying, for instance, and against rashly charging another with being a liar, to reflect on the probable consequence of being called on to face the sword or pistol, or the goblin cavern of Mount Peril. And it is but fair, that a woman also should recollect that levity of conduct, or wanton slander, may occasion her to be required to undergo a similar danger.’ There were not wanting many who reprobated this doctrine, and urged such arguments on the other side respecting the wickedness and the absurdity of the custom as we have lately heard from Mr. Jones. But they were urged with as little practical effect as they appear to have had among you. At length, several persons of the higher classes, and remarkable for correctness of life, refinement of manners, and cultivated understanding, formed themselves into an association and declared strenuous war against every kind of duel, including, as has been said, under that name the ordeal of the cavern, which they contended against on entirely new grounds.

“They did not confine themselves to such topics as had been before, again and again, urged without effect; but maintained that the practice tended to defeat the very end proposed, and to lower (instead of raising, as was pretended) the tone of manners in the society. ‘If,’ they said, ‘there were no such custom, then, any one, whether man or woman, who transgressed the rules which public opinion had sanctioned in the circle of society in which he or she moved, would at once be excluded from that circle. And the apprehension of this exclusion, of thus losing caste, and being sent to Coventry, which is the ultimate penalty that such a society can inflict for a breach of its rules, would be the best preventive of any violation of them,—the best preservative of the tone of the society, that it is possible to attain. If, under such a system, any one insulted another, he would be regarded as an ill-mannered brute, and excluded from good company: a woman who displayed levity of conduct would be at once excluded from reputable society: any one, man or woman, who should bring rash imputations against a neighbour, would be shunned as a slanderer: and so of the rest. But under the system of duelling, society offers an _alternative_; the only effect of which, as far as it operates, is unmixed evil. Instead of saying, absolutely, you must abstain from brutal insolence of demeanour, on pain of being excluded from our circle, it says, you must _either_ abstain from insolence, _or_ be ready to expose your life; instead of requiring a woman to abstain from levity of conduct, and defamatory language, on pain of forfeiting the countenance of respectable people, it proposes the alternative of _either_ observing those rules, _or_ the being prepared to encounter the ordeal; and the result is, that those who possess personal intrepidity will often be enabled to transgress with impunity those rules of good society, which the duelling system professes to enforce. Nay more; the system tends to invest with a certain degree of dignity, arising from our admiration of personal courage, such conduct as would otherwise excite only unmitigated abhorrence and contempt. An insolent man, for instance, if by his insolence he braved no danger but that of expulsion from good company, would be simply despised: but since he also, under the other system, braves the danger of death, he obtains some degree of honour for his intrepidity. And though some may be deterred from such conduct by the fear of a challenge, others, on the contrary, may be encouraged to it, by a desire of displaying valour; especially if they have reason to think, from what they know of the other party, that a challenge will _not_ ensue, and that they shall enjoy their triumph unmolested.

“‘Moreover, the magnitude of the injuries which one person actually can do to another is infinitely enhanced by the system of duels, because every affront offered is thus made to carry with it an imputation on one’s personal courage, which can only be wiped out by the exposure of life. If, for instance, I am a man of uniform and scrupulous veracity, and some ill-mannered ruffian gives me the lie, then, supposing duels unknown, the attack recoils entirely on the assailant. He is incapable of proving his charge—my life refutes it,—and the only result is that _he_, not I, is set down as a liar, for having falsely called me a liar. But under the other system, I must go out and expose my life, or else I am disgraced—disgraced, not as a _liar_ (for _that_ imputation, perhaps, is disbelieved after all), but as a _coward_, for not daring to risk my life in defence of my honour. And thus a person, who otherwise might have been incapable of doing me any serious hurt at all, has it in his power to propose to me at his pleasure the alternative of hazard to my life and violence to my conscience, or ignominy. A venom is thus added to the sting of the most contemptible insect.

“‘So much,’ said they, ‘for the protection thus provided for us against injuries the most painful to the feelings! Great part of the disgrace attaching to the authors of such injuries is removed; the injuries are probably rather increased than diminished in frequency; and in the pain they inflict, they are undoubtedly aggravated tenfold.’ With regard to the supposed necessity for a person’s thus vindicating his own honour in certain cases, on the ground that the parties have no common authority to appeal to, this they flatly denied. The public opinion of the society they belong to, _is_ that common authority. And that it is so, and is competent to decide effectually, is proved, they urged, by the very existence of duelling; for the duel itself is enforced by nothing else but public opinion. I am obliged, it is said, to challenge a man who has affronted me, because there is no authority to appeal to that will compel him to redress the injury. But what, then, compels him to _accept_ the challenge? Nothing, but the knowledge that if he refused it, society would reject him as disgraced. Then, why should not society at once pronounce on him this sentence of disgrace for the affront itself, unless he makes a satisfactory submission? If he defies public opinion, and does not care for disgrace, he need not accept the challenge: if he does care for public opinion, then let the disgrace attach at once to the offering of the affront, instead of to the refusal of the challenge. It is manifest that those who have the power to propose the alternative, of either suffering disgrace or fighting, must have the power to discard the latter part of the alternative. Let society, therefore, but do its duty, and it is plain that it may, by a proper exertion of the power which it has, and which it actually exercises even now, restrain, and restrain much more effectually, without duelling, the very evils which duelling professes to remedy.

“As for the case of war between independent states, this,” observed Mr. Adamson, “by the way, is by no means a parallel to that of private duels. One nation does not _send a challenge_ to another; because, as the parties really have no common authority to refer to, the aggressors would of course decline the challenge, and _would_ prefer enjoying unmolested the fruits of their injustice. The nation, therefore, which considers itself aggrieved has no other remedy than, after complaining and demanding redress in vain, to declare war, levy troops, and commence hostilities against its opponents without waiting for their consent; and this procedure would be parallel to the case of duels only, if these were quite of a different character from what they are. If it were customary for a man who had received an affront to declare _war_ against his neighbour, arm himself, and _proceed to attack_ him without asking his consent, this would correspond to a war between two states. But a _challenge_ is quite a different thing; it is an invitation which a man may either accept or decline, to meet at a time and place settled by mutual agreement, where the parties, by common consent, expose themselves to a certain specified risk. Generally, the challenge is both sent and accepted, not from motives of revenge, but from fear of public censure: but universally, the party challenged might refuse it if he were willing to brave public censure.

“So far, therefore, is a duel from being a mode of repelling injury, which a man is driven to resort to through the want of any common authority to appeal to, that, on the contrary, every duel actually rests on a tacit appeal to such an authority—viz. to public opinion; since no one could compel another to afford him the satisfaction sought except through the influence of the fear of disgrace, the other being at liberty to refuse the challenge if he dares to set public opinion at defiance. Every duel, therefore, whether actually taking place, or merely talked of and threatened, is itself a complete disproof of the plea on _which_ duels are justified.”

Chapter V.

Female Honour.—Agreement among Women.—Penalty of Exclusion.—Law of Honour.—False Dignity.—New Penalty.—Compact against Duelling.—Ruffians and Calumniators.—Association against Duelling.—Court of Honour.—Abolition of Duelling.

“That public opinion, if rightly directed, is capable,” continued Mr. Adamson, “of completely affecting the desired object without the duel, even better than with it, which is what we of the present day are so happy as to know by experience, these reformers anticipated partly from the enforcement among ladies of the laws of female honour before that absurd ordeal had been instituted. Women moving in circles of good society had kept up its character, it was observed, at least as well before the ordeal came into use, and quite as well as men of a corresponding class maintained the laws of masculine honour; and this was effected simply by a tacit agreement among women of character not to associate with any woman who was known to have violated these rules. ‘If, therefore,’ said they, ‘ladies will return to this system, and gentlemen will adopt a corresponding one, the rules of good society, whatever they may be that it thinks fit to impose, will be enforced by the simple expedient of denouncing exclusion against the violators of them, absolutely, and without offering the alternative of a duel.’

“It was remarked, indeed, by some of you,” said Mr. Adamson, “that in Europe the ladies, and also some other classes of persons who are exempted from the liability to a duel, are apt to avail themselves of this exemption by a less scrupulous adherence to truth and to courtesy of language, or by throwing such aspersions on their neighbours as would involve in personal danger those not so privileged; and such instances of falsehood, insolence, and calumny were attributed by some of you to the absence of the salutary check of the duel.

“As to the precise state of the fact, indeed, you appeared not to be quite agreed: but admitting the most unfavourable representation to be true, you may perceive, even from what comes under your own experience, without resorting to ours, that the inference drawn is not correct; for it appears by your own account that the English women, of the higher classes at least, though all kinds of duel are unknown among them, yet keep up the character of their society in respect of female purity. And, as this is effected through the direct influence of public opinion,—by simply enforcing the penalty of exclusion on any female of blemished reputation,—it is evident that if in respect of veracity, integrity, or any other point, they fall short of what is required of gentlemen, this must arise from the standard of _honour_ being different in the two sexes. I collect that among you the character of ‘an honest woman’ does not coincide with that of ‘an honest man,’—and that even the word ‘virtue’ has a somewhat different signification in reference to women and to men. It cannot be therefore that public opinion is insufficient to enforce the laws of honour without the intervention of duels, since modest women do succeed in maintaining the purity of the society in which they move; but the laws of honour are themselves not the same among ladies and among gentlemen. The fact is, few persons, either men or women, will venture to incur infamy; and _that_ is the penalty _which_ society may denounce against the violation of its rules, be those rules what they may. Let society determine what shall be the point of honour for each sex, or class of persons, or for all, and denounce the penalty of exclusion against such as violate its rules; and that those rules will be generally observed, without the intervention of duelling, is proved by the very circumstance that women enforce their own law of honour as successfully as men do theirs!

“By acting on these principles,” continued Mr. Adamson, “you would have the additional advantage of imposing a restraint on those females, and others, who, you complain, are disposed to take advantage of their exemption from danger of a challenge by indulging in defamatory or insolent language, &c.; for, as I just now observed, conduct of this kind is regarded among you with somewhat the less of unmixed disgust and contempt, from the very circumstance that among laymen of a certain station it may lead to a duel. It is considered as in some degree a mark of ‘spirit.’ The courage which braves death, even when disapproved as a brutal kind of courage, yet shelters its possessor from the last extreme of ignominy. Now, though the degree of false dignity with which insolent behaviour is thus invested _ought_ certainly to be at least confined to those who actually do run a risk in displaying it,—though women and clergymen, for instance, since they run no risk, and consequently display no courage by such behaviour as would expose a layman to personal danger, should properly be considered base as well as unmannerly when they are guilty of it,—yet this distinction is one which we cannot expect will be carefully kept in view and uniformly observed. A kind of association of ideas is created in people’s minds between what is called ‘spirited behaviour,’ ‘strong language,’ &c. and ‘manly boldness;’ and this association continues to affect their judgment even in cases where no boldness is really displayed, because no danger is encountered. Thus, such conduct, in a woman for instance, or in a clergyman, as would otherwise incur unmixed contempt, is likely to be, if not altogether honoured or approved, at least in some degree tolerated.

“But let the system be changed, and the tone of manners in _all_ classes would be raised. When duels are unheard of, such offences as are now regarded with a mitigated disapprobation on account of the personal intrepidity which they are supposed sometimes to imply in the offenders, would become the subject of unmixed disgust; the only danger braved being that of the disesteem of reputable people. And _this_ kind of penalty extending to _all_ classes and both sexes alike, (at least among the gentry,) would of course tend to restrain all of them alike within the rules of honour and politeness. There may be some reason why, among you, a woman should not be called out to _fight_; but there could be none, why she should not incur, as well as a gentleman, the penalty, when that was the _sole_ penalty for both sexes alike, of _exclusion_ from good society if she transgressed its rules: a penalty which in fact actually _is_ enforced, with unrelenting strictness, for a violation of the rules of what is now accounted feminine honour.

“Such nearly,” continued Mr. Adamson, “was the train of argument, as far as applicable to the then-existing condition of society among us, which was strenuously urged, and assiduously circulated by the association against duels which I have alluded to. The novelty of the arguments contributed, along with their intrinsic force, and the high character of those who urged them, to excite a general and serious attention; and the judicious course pursued by the authors of the undertaking secured them ultimate success. The members of the association bound themselves, by a solemn compact with each other, never to give or accept a challenge to any kind of duel, whether by the ordeal, or by single combat; never to behave in such a manner as might otherwise have afforded occasion for a duel; and not to countenance or receive into their society any one who should violate either of the above rules. In cases of personal assault, they were at liberty to defend themselves by force on the spot; but not to seek any subsequent satisfaction, except by an appeal to the laws, and by agreeing to shun the society of the offender as of a ruffian. They were to defend themselves against slander by _living it down_—by giving the false accuser the lie in their conduct; but they were to seek no other redress (unless they thought fit to bring a legal action for defamation) than by excluding calumniators from their society.

“And the same in respect of rude and insolent language: into _their_ society, no daring ruffian, however expert in snuffing a candle with a bullet, could, as formerly, _fight_ his way, by inducing those who really thought him no fit company for gentlemen, by a tacit appeal to their personal fears to admit him as an associate; each inwardly wishing all the while that one of the others would undertake the perilous task of tying the bell round his neck. Every such person, and every one in any way of exceptionable character, was under the ban of hopeless exclusion. It was useless to challenge the excluders, since they had proclaimed that they would not fight. From personal violence they appealed to the law: insolent vituperation was unavailing; since being directed against men who had abjured duels, it was understood to imply no personal risk, and consequently to give no proof of courage. From well-founded accusations, their blameless life and decorous behaviour secured them; unfounded charges only proclaimed the authors of them to be themselves liars.

“Very early in the history of this association, a question arose among its members, on the decision of which, probably, their final success turned. It was at first designed that they should continue formally to enrol as members as many unexceptionable persons as could be induced to join their society. Some of their number, however, objected that this would be likely to impede their progress in the reformation they were aiming at. A jealousy, they said, would be likely to arise in the minds of some persons against the pretensions, real or supposed, of an association of which they were not themselves the founders or leaders. They would therefore be apt perversely to refuse joining it, as disdaining to follow in the wake of others; and would then set about justifying their conduct by exciting suspicion and organizing opposition, as against a party combining to set up themselves as arbiters of good manners,—guides to the rest of the world,—a self-constituted tribunal, &c.

“These representations prevailed; and a resolution was adopted, and publicly announced, (accompanied with a frank statement of the reasons for it,) not to admit formally from thenceforth any more persons as members, except such as might have been actually engaged in a duel, and were desirous of thus solemnly and publicly proclaiming their renunciation of a practice to which they had thus once lent their countenance. But all other persons of respectable character, it was declared, should be thenceforth regarded as virtually members of the association, without any formal admission or engagement, so long as they should continue in practice to comply with the fundamental rules of the society, by abstaining from duels, and from everything calculated to provoke a challenge, and by shunning the company of those who acted otherwise. If any should in practice violate these regulations, or should openly proclaim his determination not to adhere to them, then, and then only, he was to be regarded as excluded from the number of the associates.

“In all cases of dispute arising between one gentleman or lady and another, the cause was to be referred to the decision, not of any self-appointed tribunal, nor of any formally-elected court of honour (either of which might have furnished occasion for jealousy), but of a committee of the neighbours meeting for the purpose, with the stipulation only that they should be persons received in good society and adverse to duelling. Of such persons, each of the parties chooses (for the custom was adopted, and still exists among us,) one or two of his acquaintance,—each of whom again names two or three others as assessors,—and the judges thus nominated privately hear and try the cause, calling in, in case of much difficulty or disagreement, the assistance of others. It is seldom that the parties do not readily acquiesce in the decision; and the public in general are, as you may suppose, fully prepared to think that this must be at least more likely to approach to a right judgment than a pistol-ball or a blast of choke-damp.

“In this way it was that the custom of duels gradually, and not very slowly, went out of fashion among us. It has been wholly extinct for more than a century; for my father, who, as I mentioned just now, remembered as a boy the final prevalence of this reform, was born nearly one hundred and thirty years ago.

“If the same reform,” he added, “is not effected by the gentry of Europe, when they have only to _will_ that it should be so, their claims to a high degree of civilization and refinement (to say nothing of humanity or morality) can hardly be admitted. For example, as it is, any one who offers an affront to another, and on being challenged refuses to fight, is excluded from the pale of good society; unless it be a woman—a clergyman—a quaker—a person bound over to keep the peace, under the penalty of forfeiting a sum of money—(a curious exemption this!)—or belonging to some other description of privileged persons. All you have to do is to resolve that the _offering_ of the affront shall place any person under the same ban as he is now placed under for refusing, after being challenged for the affront, to fight. Lay down this rule; and let there be _no exemptions_ on the ground of sex, profession, or any other plea whatever, and the object is accomplished.”

Chapter VI.

Rough Notes.—Public Entertainments.—Dancing.—Grotesque Dance.—Throwing the Spear.—Female Dress.—Decorations.—Ear-rings.—Wedding-rings.—Anomalous Costume.

The rough notes taken down by the several members of the exploring party are, of course, not arranged in the order of the subjects, but are merely memoranda written on the spot from time to time according as the knowledge was obtained, or the observations made; and in the selections here laid before the reader, it has been thought best not to attempt any systematic arrangement, but to present them in their original miscellaneous form.

While the travellers were at Bath,—which is a city rather distinguished, like its namesake in England and in Germany, for gaiety, as being a place of resort to strangers on account of the mineral waters,—they were invited to several public entertainments of various kinds, and of different degrees of solemnity and splendour. One lady with whom, among others, they were conversing on the subject of one of these which they were about to attend, on being asked, among other inquiries, whether a ball possessed as much attraction for young people as, they told her, it does in Europe, replied in the affirmative; though, for her own part, she said, she liked archery better; but different young people, said she, differ, you know, in their tastes in respect of amusements.

When the gay party had been assembled,—which was on a lawn of considerable extent, partially shaded with some fine mimosa and eucalyptus (gum-tree), under whose shade tents were erected,—the travellers witnessed with much interest the several diversions that were going on; and, among others, their notice was called by the lady with whom they had been conversing the day before to several “games of ball” of various kinds that were going on; some played by gentlemen alone, some by ladies, and some by both together; and many of them bearing more or less resemblance to the English games of cricket, bowls, trap-ball, tennis, billiards, &c. as well as to others which are common enough among children in England, but quite unknown among adults.

The travellers laughed heartily (as the ladies did also, on receiving an explanation) at the mutual mistake they had made about balls: but, on making more particular inquiries about dancing, they learned that this was an amusement confined to children; scarcely any ever joining in that sport except those under thirteen or fourteen years old, and any lively and good-humoured friend of the children, who joined their game for their amusement. The sport was in fact “playing at being savages,” the dances consisting in a ludicrous imitation of those of the aborigines. These, it is well known, are much given to dancing, in which they display considerable ingenuity as well as agility and good ear; and their dances are not merely a recreation, but are also mixed up with their most important institutions and transactions, being performed with much solemnity at their “corrobories,” or grand meetings, for the purpose of deliberating on affairs of state, and performing certain superstitious rites of divination.

A group of romping boys and girls, who were at play in one corner of the field, were accordingly requested to exhibit to the strangers the spectacle of a dance; and some of the most forward and lively of the boys entered into the proposal with much glee. Two of the party took on themselves, by general consent, the arrangement and direction of the whole, and seemed to officiate as masters of the ceremonies, or, as they called themselves, “Corrobory chiefs.” They were, it seems, visitors from one of the back-settlements, and had had frequent opportunities of witnessing the native dances. The sport partook somewhat of the nature of a masquerade; some whimsical changes being made in the costume of the dancers, in order to give the livelier representation of the strange originals. Much merriment took place, and many curious feats of grotesque agility were displayed, to the great diversion both of the juvenile performers and the bystanders. This sport was followed by the throwing of the spear, after the manner of the natives; an art in which many of the Southlanders are very expert, especially those who live on the margins of the lakes, where the striking of fish is a favourite diversion, as the salmon-spearing is in some parts of Scotland. The throwing of the spear at a mark, however, and also archery, are games not confined, as dancing is, to children.

The Southlanders expressed surprise that adult Europeans, even of the higher classes, should retain the amusement of dancing, “like the savages;” an amusement which seemed to them, from habit, as childish as many of their sports, on the other hand, had appeared to their visitors. Both parties were somewhat at a loss to explain to each other the grounds of their respective notions as to what was or was not puerile. “There is no disputing,” said one of the most intelligent of their hosts, “about tastes; but in many points, I believe, ours are to be accounted for by that early and deep-seated association in our minds, which you have in many instances noticed, between certain practices or habits and savage life. You have remarked several times how frequently the phrase is in our mouths, that to do so and so is ‘like the savages;’ and this may perhaps account for the ridiculous appearance which, as you perceive, one of your balls, as you call them, would have in our eyes.”

* * * * *

The sentiment above alluded to was manifested in several conversations (occurring at various places, and noticed from time to time in the memorandum-books of the travellers,) on the subject of dress, especially female dress; respecting which the ladies showed themselves, as was to be expected, inquisitive and communicative. They generally expressed their wonder, when the female costume of England was described, that people pretending to be so civilized should expose so much _bare flesh_, “like the savages.” The habit of dressing, or rather, as they said, of undressing, so as to display naked shoulders, bosoms, and arms, struck them more as barbarian than as indelicate; they themselves,—though their clothing is usually thin, on account of the general warmth of the climate,—leave no part of the body uncovered, except the face and hands. They inquired whether the European ladies coat themselves with grease, mixed up with ochre or other paint, as the savages do, by way of protection to the unclothed parts from scorching sun, piercing winds, and the bites of mosquitoes; also, whether they practised the tattooing, which is an essential part of aboriginal finery.

They inquired also whether English ladies did not suffer in their health from the great and sudden _changes_, from covering to exposure, of many parts of the body between morning and evening dresses; and also whether many of them did not become diseased or deformed by the violence with which they appeared to squeeze their waists. Wilkins, the servant, it seems, had chanced to bring with him a lady’s almanac, containing plates of “female costume,” which excited great interest, wonder, and diversion among the Southlanders. Some imagined at first, among other mistakes, that the ladies were represented as taking precautions against drowning, by fastening, as the Southlanders sometimes do, large bladders to their arms.

They expressed hardly less wonder on learning that English ladies are accustomed, “like the savages,” to wear feathers, necklaces, and other ornaments, and even to make incisions in their flesh for the purpose of inserting them. They asked whether, in addition to ear-rings, they wore nose-rings, and the ornament so general among the New-Hollanders, called humorously by the English sailors the “spritsail-yard;” viz. the leg-bone of a bird thrust through the middle cartilage of the nose.

The travellers observed, in reply, that the Southlanders, especially the females, seemed to have no scruples on the subject of ornamental dress and furniture, as they had much that was both handsome and costly. “That is true,” said one of the party; “and though there are many differences of opinion on the subject, and some indulge in a degree of attention to ornament which is regarded by others as excessive, the total condemnation of all regard to decoration is by no means common. The church, indeed, of the Kernhuters—of which I learn from you there is a considerable and valuable remnant in Europe—have adopted, for nearly two centuries, some very strict regulations on this head; among others, they make it a point of discipline to use no dyes. Their shoes and boots are brown, of the natural colour of the leather; their coats grey, being made of a mixture of black wool and white, as it comes from the sheep; and their hats of the natural colour of the opossum and kangaroo: but these are exceptions. The point _agreed on_ among us, and in which our difference from you gave rise to the wonder you heard expressed, is this,—that it is barbarian to wear anything _for the sake_ of ornament, and which answers no purpose but that of decoration. Of this description are feathers, which were worn by our ancestors of both sexes, but which I understand from you are now confined to women, and to military men when in uniform. So, also, are necklaces, rings, and, above all, ear-rings. It strikes us as peculiarly barbarian to bore holes in the flesh for the purpose of sticking in ornaments. It may be a prejudice, but it is at least an ancient one; for the Greeks, though I believe their women wore ear-rings,—and it is to be observed that they regarded women as a very inferior order of beings, and rather as toys, or as domestic drudges, than as civilized and rational companions,—considered ear-rings worn by men as a decisive mark of barbarism. You may find, in Xenophon’s Anabasis, one of the captains of companies, who had given some cowardly advice, reproached as uttering sentiments unworthy of a Greek; on which some one exclaimed ‘He is no Greek! _his ears are bored_:’ and this being ascertained by inspection, he was on this evidence at once pronounced a barbarian, and as such reduced to the ranks.

“You have observed,” continued he, “among us handsome and costly gold brooches and buckles, buttons made of jewels, embroidered garments, inlaid tables, and other such ornamental articles; but you will see no article that is _merely_ an ornament. A gold brooch or button served as a fastening, not better indeed, but as well, as an iron or brass one. Its _beauty_ is superfluous, but it is not _itself_ superfluous, and destitute of all ostensible use. So, also, a silver goblet serves to drink out of, and an embroidered gown to cover one, no less than plain ones. The robes, caps, and thrones of our higher magistrates are, as you have seen, in some instances very highly decorated; but they have an ostensible use, as coverings and seats. We have no necklaces, plumes, or rings; and have indeed carried so far this distinction, which probably to you seems fanciful, that we have even laid aside the ancient usage of the wedding ring, and, as you must have observed, mark the distinction between the married and single by the dress. By the bye,” he added, “the ring, which you speak of as having a use in distinguishing a married _woman_, is confined, I perceive, to the _wife_; a married _man_ not having, as among us, any distinctive mark.”

Mr. Sibthorpe here remarked, that though any practice to which we are not accustomed does usually appear to us fanciful, yet it occurred to him—what had never struck him before—that no _mere_ ornament is commonly worn by _men_ of the present age in Europe; a few, indeed, wear rings, but not the majority; nor is it any requisition of fashion. Stars, ribbons, crowns, &c. are worn by men as marks of certain rank or office; but the feathers, chains, shoulder-knots, and ruffles, which our forefathers wore as a part of fashionable dress, are obsolete. Man is now so far conformed to the ancient definition as to be “a biped without _feathers_;” women, on the contrary, are so far, according to the Southlanders, in the rear of advancing civilization as still to wear ornaments, like the savages.

He remarked also another point of coincidence between European women on the one side, and European men and the Southlanders of both sexes on the other; the latter, he observed, were always dressed _alike on both sides_, so that if one imagined one of them split into halves, the two would _match_, like a pair of gloves; among European ladies, on the contrary, most of the many great variations of fashion agree in making some difference between the two sides; there is usually an obliquity in the head-gear, or a bow, a feather, or a bunch of flowers, stuck on one side, without a corresponding one on the other.

Chapter VII.

Forms of Government.—Senatorial Regulations.—Speakers.—Peculiar Debate.—Fundamental Laws.—Unwise Legislators.—Timely Improvements.—Legislative Problem.—Legislative Expedient.—Error in Government.—Division of Laws.—Repeal of Fundamental Laws.—Guard against Precipitancy.—Laws of Treason.—Mature Deliberation.—National Will.

All the states, which, as has been mentioned above, are eleven in number, differ more or less from each other in their form of government, but are alike in all the most important and fundamental principles adopted; several of which are strangely at variance with everything that is to be found in the northern hemisphere. Seven out of the eleven states are denominated kingdoms: but of these, four only are under an hereditary royalty; the other three being, as far as the travellers could ascertain, rather of the character of republics than of strictly regal governments; but retaining the title of King to denote the chief magistrate for the time being, somewhat corresponding to the Athenian archon, Roman consul, or American president. There are four other states also which are, in name as well as in substance, republics. But these differences are greater in appearance than in reality; the kingdoms which are the most strictly so called, being by no means under an unlimited monarchy.

Many of the particulars respecting the constitutions and laws of the several states the travellers were of course, during their short stay, unable to collect, except very slightly and imperfectly. From those which they did collect, and ascertain with sufficient certainty, we shall select such as are likely to be the most interesting, from their dissimilarity to European institutions.

It was in the state of Atroloria,—so called from the lake of the same name[1] within its territory,—which the travellers first reached, that they had the earliest opportunity of witnessing debates in their senate. They afterwards, on several occasions, attended the legislative assemblies in other places. The circumstance which in the first instance most attracted, by its novelty to them, the attention of the visitors, was one which they found on inquiry was common to all the states in their deliberative assemblies; being a regulation originally established by Müller, and afterwards, from its tried advantage and convenience, continued universally and uninterruptedly. It was this, that no member was allowed to _speak_ and to _vote_ on the same question, but each had his choice between the two. The proceedings, accordingly, bore some resemblance to those of a court of justice in civil causes; the speakers corresponding to the pleaders who address the court,—the voters, to the jury, who give the verdict. The difference is, that each member has it left to his choice which character he will take. Any member wishing to address the house, quits his seat and places himself in front of the chair of the moderator,—answering to the speaker or chairman; and when he has spoken, seats himself, not in his former place, but, with a view to prevent mistake or confusion, on a bench appropriated to the purpose, and thence called the speakers’ bench; or he is at liberty to leave the assembly if he thinks fit. When the question has been put to the vote and decided, and a fresh question is coming on, he resumes his original seat. Certain public functionaries, who are not members, have a seat by right on the speakers’ bench, and are at liberty to address the house (though they have no vote) when there is any reference to the business of their own peculiar departments.

Footnote 1:

The lake was so called by the early settlers; doubtless from the same cause which led to the name of our own colony in Western Australia.

Whether owing to this circumstance, or to any other, the debates were observed to be shorter, and the speakers much fewer, than is usual in European assemblies. They seldom exceeded two or three on each side.

The travellers observed that the speakers rarely used even the smallest degree of action, but usually kept themselves remarkably still while speaking. This, it appears, was one of the results of that general and deep-rooted association already alluded to. In the course of conversation on this subject, the Southlanders, it appeared, considered it as something uncivilized to use either vociferation or gesticulation in speaking, “as the savages do.” They even accounted the refined Athenians and Romans of old as little better than half-reclaimed barbarians in this respect, because they would not attend to an orator unless he stamped and shouted, and brandished his arms about, as if he were speaking to a pack of hounds, instead of to an assembly of rational beings.

* * * * *

The travellers were so fortunate as to witness on one occasion a debate of a peculiar kind, which is of rare occurrence, and which served to throw light on the whole system of legislature of this singular people. It occurred in the kingdom of Nether-London, one of the most ancient and populous of all the states. They found a considerable excitement and bustle prevailing, though all was orderly and decorous, on account of a summons issued (in our phraseology, “a call of the house”) to the members of their assembly, called in that state the parliament, to deliberate on the question of removing a _fundamental law_. The particular law then in question was, they found, like the Salic law of the French, one which confined the succession to the throne to males. But a further inquiry let them into the knowledge of matter far more curious and interesting,—the general principle of “fundamental laws,” which materially affects the whole of the system of legislature in the country; being, with slight differences of detail, common to all the states, regal and republican, and extending also to the several ecclesiastical communities.

“The system I am about to describe to you,” said Mr. Adamson, who was one of their principal informants on this occasion, “was established by the Müllers; the younger of whom, during the whole of his long reign, as it may be called, laboured earnestly and successfully to explain its advantages, and to perpetuate its adoption. I will put into your hands presently a little popular tract on the subject written by him, which, like the many others he wrote, is in every one’s hands at this day. He sets forth in that the evils resulting, on the one hand, from retaining, or, oftener, vainly striving to retain, all laws, usages, and institutions unaltered, some of which, even though the result originally of consummate wisdom, may become utterly unsuitable to other times and altered circumstances; and, on the other hand, from frequent, sudden, and violent changes, which are apt to agitate and unsettle men’s minds, and to lead to consequences not designed or foreseen,—like the pulling out of one stone from a wall, which is apt to loosen some of the others. His discussion of this subject bears much resemblance to those I lately saw in the little book you lent me the other day, by Lord Bacon,[2] who strikes me as a very able writer, and likely to be well worthy of the reputation you tell me he enjoys.

Footnote 2:

A little pocket edition of Bacon’s Essays, one of four or five small volumes which the travellers had brought with them to beguile any occasional tedious half-hour at their halting-places, or in their boat.

“Müller goes on to say that unwise legislators have been in all ages apt to bring on themselves, not one only, but both of these classes of evils. Unmindful of the proverb, that “a stitch in time saves nine,” they often, through dread of change, maintain unaltered things which manifestly want altering, at the expense of much loss and inconvenience; and when the change does come, from the inconvenience having grown to an intolerable height, it is apt to be, in consequence, a violent, hasty, and sometimes ruinous change. ‘That dirt made this dust,’ is a homely old saying, which he used frequently to apply in speaking of such instances, in allusion to those who in wet weather neglect to scrape off the mud from the roads; and consequently, besides being for a long time continually splashed and bemired, at length, when the mud is all dried up by the sun, they are half smothered by the dust it produces. He would always, therefore, he said, be, by choice, an _improver_, rather than a _reformer_; introducing corrections and additions, from time to time, as occasion offered, rather than letting a building become so inconvenient or ruinous as to require being pulled down and rebuilt.

“A great reformation he considered as, in all cases, a great evil; though frequently by far the least evil that circumstances admit of, and though he had himself, accordingly, been always a strenuous supporter of the great reformation of religion, notwithstanding the many evils resulting, according to him, from its having been so long delayed and so obstinately resisted. To avoid both of the opposite evils,—the liability to sudden and violent changes, and the adherence to established usage when inconvenient or mischievous,—to give the requisite stability to governments and other institutions without shutting the door against improvement,—this is a problem which both ancient and modern legislators, he thought, had not well succeeded in solving. And the same, it appears, may be said of those who have appeared in Europe since his time. Some, like the ancient Medes and Persians, and like Lycurgus, have attempted to prohibit all change; but those who constantly appeal to the wisdom of their ancestors, as a sufficient reason for perpetuating everything these have established, forget two things; first, that they cannot hope for ever to persuade all successive generations of men that there was once one generation of such infallible wisdom as to be entitled to dictate to all their descendants for ever,—so as to make the earth, in fact, the possession, not of the living, but of the dead; and, secondly, that, even supposing our ancestors gifted with such infallibility, many cases must arise in which it may be reasonably doubted whether they themselves would not have advocated, if living, changes called for by altered circumstances; even as our own forefathers, who denoted the _southern_ quarter from _meridies_ (noon), would not have been so foolish as to retain that language had they come to live in this hemisphere, where the sun at noon is in the north.

“The expedient of having two or more deliberative assemblies, or other authorities, in a state, whose concurrent sanction shall be requisite for enacting or abrogating laws, has often been resorted to, as a safeguard against sudden and violent measures adopted under an ebullition of feeling, yet without precluding well-weighed and deliberate changes. This expedient he thought a very good one, as far as it goes; it is adopted in various forms in each of our states. But it appeared to him that experience had proved this provision to be not alone sufficient for accomplishing fully the object he had in view, which was to give the requisite stability to those more fundamental laws which may be considered as part of the constitution of any state, (yet not so as to attempt prohibiting a wary and deliberate alteration of them,) and at the same time to afford proper facilities for introducing changes into matters of detail.

“‘Nature,’ said he, ‘does not give the same degree of strength to the footstalks of the leaves of a tree,—destined, as these are, to be shed every year,—and to the roots, which are designed to hold the trunk fast in the ground. If she did, either the one would be far too strong or the other far too weak, or both of these inconveniences might take place at once; yet this is the error committed by almost all governments. The same machinery is provided to facilitate or to impede _every_ change alike, in great or in small matters; the same mode is prescribed for the maintaining, or abrogating, or introducing of _every_ law and _every_ institution alike. Among you, for instance, an act for regulating the manufacture of soap, or an act which should introduce a complete change into your constitution,—which should take away or restore the liberties of half the nation,—must go through exactly the same forms, and be passed or rejected by the same authorities under the same regulations: in short, you are like a tree whose leaf-stalks and main roots have neither more nor less toughness and stoutness the one than the other.’

“Now this is a state of things which he considered as always inexpedient, and often dangerous, and which he accordingly proposed to remedy. The system which he recommended, and which has been universally adopted, is this. All our laws are divided into two classes; the ordinary or repealable laws, and the fundamental. The former are enacted, altered, or repealed much in the same manner as all laws of all other nations: but a fundamental law is one which there exists no immediate power to enact, annul, or amend; and it is forbidden by the rules of the house to propose any measure that, even incidentally, goes to defeat or interfere with the operation of any fundamental law. But it is allowed to propose, and to pass, a bill for removing any fundamental law from the list, and reducing it to an ordinary law; after which, it is open to be dealt with like any other law. So, also, it is allowed to pass a bill for placing any already existing ordinary law on the list of fundamentals.

“The enactment, therefore, or repeal of a fundamental law, may be accomplished at _two_ steps, though not at one; but it is further provided that these two steps shall not take place in one session of parliament.” [He was describing the details, he said, in the terms, and according to the usages, of the kingdom of Nether-London; having premised that there is a substantial agreement in principle throughout all the states on this subject.] “When it is proposed to remove a law from the list of fundamentals, the motion made is, ‘that such and such a law shall, _at the close of the present session_, cease to be fundamental.’ It remains, therefore, even should the motion be carried, and the act receive the royal assent, irrevocable during the existing session. When, again, the reverse measure is to be proposed, of enrolling on the list of fundamentals some existing law, an act must have first passed, authorizing the legislature to take into consideration, in the _ensuing_ (or some subsequent session) the question of enrolling such and such a law.

“Lastly, another and more important safeguard against precipitancy, is that, in the case of a motion for removing any law from the list of the fundamentals, or adding one to that list, every member who does not vote _for_ the motion is, by a rule of the house, reckoned, whether present or absent, as having voted _against_ it. In other words, such a motion can be carried only by an _absolute_ majority of the whole house, not by a mere comparative majority of members _present_.”

Mr. Sibthorpe having interposed a remark, that there is something in the British constitution of the nature of a fundamental law, inasmuch as it is treason to propose the abolition of kingly government,—so that the maintenance of that government is irrevocable till a bill shall first have been passed for altering the laws of treason,—Mr. Adamson admitted that this was so far on the same footing with the law he had been describing; “but,” added he, “if any one should—which I allow is highly improbable—propose such an alteration of the laws of treason, that question might legally be put to the vote in as thin a house as is competent to transact ordinary business. I think you would do well, after introducing our last regulation as to an absolute majority, to place some more of your laws on the same footing. Not that there would be any occasion for saying anything about treason. With you, as with us, it would no doubt be quite sufficient that a member should be at once ‘called to order’ if he presumed to make any motion contrary to the rules of the house.

“You would find, I think,” he continued, “that the adoption of our system in regard to fundamental laws would tend to promote among you that comparative calmness and moderation which you have remarked in our proceedings, and to mitigate the vehemence with which, by your accounts, one set of men oppose every change, good or bad, while another seem to be hostile to everything that is established. Those who are by temper and habit most disposed to the dread of innovation, lest rash schemes should be adopted, would have their apprehensions somewhat calmed by seeing a provision made at least against any great change being introduced with inconsiderate _haste_; and those, again, who are most disposed to dread the perpetuation of abuses, might be moderated in their impatient eagerness for reform, by seeing a regular path open for the examination and remedy of anything, however consecrated by long usage, that should appear, on mature deliberation, to be evil.

“That you would be exempt from the possibility of error, or that we are so, it would be an absurd presumption to pretend. Our system does not profess to make human judgment infallible; it professes only to provide that our deliberative assemblies shall decide according to the _best_ of their judgment, and shall neither retain nor reject anything, without a full opportunity at least being given for the exercise of deliberate reflection and mature discussion. To attempt more than this is mere folly. One generation of fallible men has neither the right nor the power to supersede for ever, by irrevocable laws, the judgment of all future generations of their posterity; though the endeavour to do so may delay a beneficial change, and convert it, when it does come, into a noxious one. The will of a whole nation can no more be permanently and effectually stopped in its course than the current of a river. If you dam up the regular channel, you cause it first to flood the neighbouring country, and then to work itself new and circuitous channels. You may think yourself well off if this is the worst. Should your dam be ultimately burst, a fierce and destructive deluge of revolutionary violence will succeed.”

* * * * *

The debate which the visitors witnessed, and which led to the foregoing explanations, terminated in the removal of the law in question from the list of fundamentals. But as the minority had been considerable, the general expectation was, that before the next session,—in which alone the final repeal of the law could be proposed,—a dissolution of parliament would take place, in order that the sentiments of the people on the subject might be fully ascertained.

Chapter VIII.

Mode of Election of Senators—of Representatives.—Personal Votes and Property-Votes.—Voting by Ballot.—Eligibility of Candidates.—Aboriginal Blood.—Mixed Blood.—Government Rent.—Public Expenditure.—Unwise Economy.—Choice of Statesmen.—Explanations.

Mr. Adamson,—properly designated as the worshipful Christopher Adamson,—being himself a member of the senate of his own state of Bath, obtained for the strangers, as a special favour, permission to witness the mode of election of a senator to fill up a vacancy which had just occurred.

He explained to them, that, in this particular state, the members of the senate, or upper house, are elected by the lower house (or commons); and that the appointment is for life, or till resignation. But though in these particulars the constitution of this state differs from that of several of the others, the _mode_ of election is similar to that by which several of the public functionaries are chosen in all the states. No personal canvassing, he informed them, is allowed in any case; nor is it regular to ask or to promise a vote. But at the time of the election, the president or chairman of the assembly solemnly admonishes the voters of their obligation to divest themselves, as far as possible, of all personal bias, and nominate such persons as they shall in their consciences believe to be most fit. Admonitions of this kind stand in the place of the oaths which in Europe are usually administered on such occasions. The commons-assembly having been duly convened, each member was directed to write down on separate slips of paper, and deliver to the president, the names of five persons as candidates; or, not _more_ than five: for he was at liberty to write fewer; or, if he pleased, none at all.

The president next proceeded to inspect their names, and select the five that had the greatest number of votes. It so happened on this occasion that there were _six_ names, of which two had each the same number of votes. This, as Mr. Adamson explained, creates no difficulty, and only prolongs in a trifling degree the business of the election. All six names were put in nomination; and each member was next called on to give his vote _against_ one of the six, by giving in a paper inscribed with the name of the candidate he wished to have struck off the list. The one who had the greatest number of these counter-votes being then removed from the list, the remaining five were proposed in like manner, to have one name struck off; and the same process was repeated till only one remained, who was thereupon declared duly elected. For example: suppose the five names that, in the first instance, have most votes, to be A, B, C, D, and E, and these being put in nomination, in the counter-voting A has the most votes against him; then B, C, D, and E are proposed in like manner, and B is struck off by a majority of counter-votes; there remain C, D, and E, from which, by the same process, C and D are successively struck off: then E is the one elected.

If in any case the number of counter-votes against two of the names are equal, and that number exceeds the votes against any other one, then _both_ names are struck off, except it should happen that they are the _last_ two; in which case, of course, the question is, whether D or E shall be elected: and if on this question the numbers are equal, the president has the casting vote.

Mr. Adamson was about to answer the inquiries of the visitors as to the peculiar advantages proposed by this mode of election, when a blunt, humorous-looking commoner, who sat near them, interposed, by telling them that, in plain terms, this was the advantage; that each voter placed his _own friend_ first, and the _best candidate_ second, and so the best was elected in the end. Mr. Adamson replied with a smile, that, making due allowance for satire, there was a good deal of truth in the statement.

“It is a truth,” said he, “that has been presented to you, dressed with vinegar alone, which you may easily suppose might fairly be tempered with a due proportion of oil. But I will leave that to your own reflections; only reminding you of the well-known instance of the Grecian states discussing the respective merits of the several commanders after the overthrow of Xerxes. Each state, it was observed, placed _their own_ commander first on the list of merit, and allotted the second place to Themistocles the Athenian; whence it was reasonably inferred that Themistocles was clearly the most distinguished of all. Now, suppose he had been candidate for a prize in some assembly in which the Athenians were not present; he would not, you observe, have obtained a single vote according to the direct mode of voting, while on our plan he would have gained a decisive triumph. I have heard also of a new-comer in some town consulting each of his neighbours as to the choice of a physician, and fixing on the one whom most of them accounted the second-best; each placing his own family physician first.”

* * * * *

The travellers having inquired into the mode of appointment of the lower house, were informed that the members are the representatives each of a certain town or district, as in England, America, &c.; and that they are elected for seven years at the utmost; one-seventh of the house, by lot, going out every year, but being capable, however, of re-election.

There is, besides this, a power lodged in a certain council of state and president,—for this state is a republic,—to dissolve the house and appoint a general election. In all the states there is a house of representatives, constituted substantially on the same principle. In their designations, and in some points of detail, there are several differences.

In the election of members all citizens have, in most of the states, a vote, though not all _equal_ votes. Any citizen, who is unconvicted of any crime, of sound mind, and of a certain specified age, (in the state of Bath it is thirty-five,) is entitled to be enrolled as a voter, on producing a certificate of his having gone through a certain course of elementary school-learning, and attained the required proficiency. He is then entitled to what is called a _personal vote_; _i. e._ a vote without any reference to the amount of his property. In Bath, and some of the other states, an individual may have conferred on him the honour and privilege of a double or treble personal vote, in consideration of peculiar public services or personal qualifications.

Besides this, each individual who may pay a certain _proportion_ of taxes,—_i. e._ who may possess a certain amount of taxable property,—is entitled, on that ground, to a _property-vote_;[3] if he has a certain greater amount specified,—which is more, however, than double the first,—he has a second property-vote; and so on, up to a certain limited number. In the republic of Bath, six is the utmost number of property-votes that one person can hold; but this varies in the several states; the distinction of personal and property-votes, and the power of holding more than one of the latter, are regulations common to all.

Footnote 3:

Any property not taxable,—as, for instance, professional income,—the holder may, if he think fit, enroll as equivalent to so much land, and pay taxes accordingly, which entitles him to a corresponding number of votes.

“This part of our system,” Mr. Adamson remarked to them, “is not so much unlike that of Great Britain as you had at the first glance conceived: for with you, if a man chance to have landed property in several _different counties_, he is entitled to a vote in each; and this is nearly equivalent to his having several votes in one county, should all the property chance to be in that one. The anomaly is with _you_; in giving one man more direct influence in the election of the legislature than another, who, perhaps, has double his estate, but all within one county. I say,” continued he, “_direct_ influence; because, indirectly, a rich man among you does, it appears, influence his tenants, tradesmen, and other dependents in their votes. With us, the weight which property has, and ought to have, is allowed to operate _directly_ and _openly_: with you, on the system of single votes, it does not.

“And accordingly you apprehend, I find, a danger in the threatened introduction of the ballot; as tending to place the richest and poorest on a footing of democratical equality, by taking away the indirect influence of the one over the votes of the other. And it is remarkable that the tendency of the ballot to produce this effect,—which is manifestly the great _danger_ to be apprehended from it,—seems to be _asserted_ by its advocates among you, and _denied_ by its opponents. With us, on the contrary, there is no such consequence to be apprehended; and, accordingly, our voting for representatives is always by ballot. On our system, this is not only unobjectionable but highly important; for, as the successful candidate is elected by the majority of _votes_, while it is possible that his opponent might be supported by a much greater number of _voters_, it would be very inexpedient to let this be publicly displayed and recorded; as it might tend to array the wealthier and poorer classes against each other.

“On the whole,” added he, “our system seems to be the simplest and most effectual for preserving that principle which _must_ be maintained in every _good_ representative system; viz. that _persons_ and _property_ should both be represented. The democrat aims at a representation of _persons alone_; at putting on a political level those who have the largest stake in the country, and those who have little or none. The aristocrat (or rather, oligarchist) is for representing _property alone_; as if the _taxes_ imposed by the legislature towards the expenses of the state were everything, and the _life and liberty_ of individuals, which may be affected by the laws passed, were nothing. The true wisdom, surely, is to take _both_ into account, and to provide that both persons and property shall be duly represented.”

* * * * *

In all the states but one, all persons are eligible to a seat in the lower house,—that of representatives,—who possess certain property and personal qualifications. In that one,—the kingdom of Upper-London, a small state, which was separated, above a hundred years since, from that of Nether-London,—a sort of hereditary restriction exists, which, at the first glance, appeared to the travellers exceedingly whimsical. No one is eligible to their commons’ assembly who is not descended, or married to one who is, from both blacks and whites.

The origin of the regulation was this:—Before the state was separated, the district which constitutes its present territory was occupied by a considerable proportion of blacks, viz. the descendants of the allied and reclaimed aboriginals formerly described. It was observed by the then king of Nether-London, (then called New-London,) that the whites of pure blood were beginning to hold aloof, not only from the blacks, but from those of mixed breed, and to disdain associating with them on equal terms, however personally deserving. To remedy this state of things, and prevent a mutual alienation between two sets of fellow-citizens, the king,—who seems to have inherited something of the eccentric, original, and daring character of the younger Müller, from a daughter of whom he was descended,—devised the plan, which, with the concurrence of the legislature, he carried into effect, for constituting this district—a thriving and, in other respects, promising one—into a distinct state, under some peculiar regulations.

A brother of his own was appointed the first king of it,—whose wife is said to have been a lady of beauty and accomplishments, though she had a slight mixture of aboriginal blood. Inducements were held out to several of the most respectable and intelligent persons in various states who were of mixed race, to come and settle in the new kingdom. Some of the ablest of these,—who, by the bye, are said to have had a considerable over-proportion of European blood in their veins,—together with others of purely white race, were nominated as the original senate (or upper house); and the lower house was, by a fundamental law, to consist exclusively, and for ever, of persons of mixed race, or who are married to such. And, to this day, no one is eligible who cannot prove his descent, or his wife’s, from blacks and whites.

This, however, is easily done at present; for the descent may be ever so remote, the mixture ever so unequal. Every one, therefore, is eligible, of whom any ancestor has been enrolled as such. There are, accordingly, many members of the house who, perhaps, have not above ¹⁄₁₆ or ¹⁄₃₂ of aboriginal blood; and, indeed, most of the population are at present not very dissimilar from Europeans in feature and complexion, and yet are qualified, as far as the above rule is concerned, for a seat in the house.

The plan was at first laughed at, as whimsical, by many of the Southlanders themselves; but the expediency of it in promoting mutual respect and speedy amalgamation between the two races, who were thus _both alike excluded_ from an important branch of the legislature, was so apparent, and the joke was so good-humouredly joined in by those who were the objects of it, that the laughter was soon divested of all bitterness. The satirists had suggested, as a symbol for the new state, two swans,—an Australian black swan (Cygnus ater) and white European,—lovingly entwining their necks: on which the Upper-Londoners immediately adopted this as the arms of the kingdom; and so it remains to this day, with the motto of “Nimium ne crede colori.” The state, though one of the smaller ones, (its population about two hundred and fifty thousand,) is prosperous, and its citizens respectable, intelligent, and polite.

* * * * *

In most of the states, there are few or no considerable taxes, except a land tax; and in many of them even this is not heavy, from the government being in possession of considerable tracts of land, which in some instances have become very valuable from having been covered with buildings, wharfs, &c. [The word “tax” is used as best conveying to English ears the sense intended. They themselves call it “government-_rent_;” for they consider the state as alone holding what we call the fee-simple of all land, which it assigns to individuals, either for terms of years at a stipulated rent, or in perpetuity, subject to what we should call a land-tax.]

On the whole, Mr. Sibthorpe is of opinion, that, taking into consideration the very small military (and, of course, no naval) establishments, and also the comparative wealth of these and the European states, the government revenues are proportionably greater in the Southland states than in those of Europe,—the revenue that is actually _expended in the public service_ each year; for he does not take into account, as a part of our revenue, the enormous sum annually paid as interest on the national debt. These states having happily been exempt from the prodigal expenditure of wars, have no national debt. Their public expenditure is, however, what we should be apt to call profuse in the payment of public functionaries. All are paid, even the representatives; and to most offices is attached, besides what may be considered an ample salary in reference to the prevailing style of living, a comfortable retiring pension: sinecures however, strictly so called,—_i. e._ payments for _no_ services, either present or _past_,—are not known. When the more frugal system, in reference to this point, that prevails among us, was described to them, and also the prevailing clamour for still further reductions on that head, they gave it as their opinion that there could not be money worse saved, and that is must be a great wonder if we were well governed.

“The natural tendency,” they urged, “of a system of _frugal_ government in this sense, is, to obtain a worse commodity. Try the experiment,” they said, “of being frugal to your physicians, and reduce their fees to half-crowns, and you will have a half-crown’s worth of skill instead of a guinea’s worth. You will still have plenty of physicians, but we should not like to be under their hands. While a man of talents and character, with a liberal education and industry, can realize a handsome and secure income in some of your learned professions, you cannot expect him, especially if he have a family to provide for, and but little private fortune, to give up a lucrative employment, and devote himself to the labours of political life, either gratuitously, or with an uncertain recompense in view. He will either keep aloof from public business, or will bestow on it a hurried, divided, and secondary attention. Thus, political business, and ultimately political power, is thrown into the hands of one or both of two classes of men:—those of _large estates_; and _adventurers_,—men, who, for want of character, or of steady application, are not succeeding in any reputable and lucrative profession, and therefore see nothing better to do than to take their chance in the profession—an ill-paid and precarious one, as it seems to be among you—of politics.

“Many persons of both these classes, among you, may, we doubt not, be possessed of high qualifications; but it seems evident that with so large a total number as you possess of educated and intelligent gentry, you practically limit your choice to a very small proportion of them for persons to conduct public affairs; and these affairs, therefore, we should expect to find conducted, if not ill, yet by no means so well as they might be. We should expect to find the department of government—one of such paramount importance—not so well filled as many subordinate departments; and that there would be among you a larger proportionate number of highly qualified legal, military, and naval men, for instance, of engineers, artisans, &c. than of statesmen.

“You are to observe,” they added, “that we are only throwing out our _conjectures_: we are ready and willing to stand corrected. You must know how the matter of fact stands; which may perhaps be at variance with our anticipations, through the operation of some causes we are not aware of. But we lay before you our notions and expectations, as the thought strikes ourselves.”

[There follows here, in the memoranda of the travellers, the explanations they gave, in answer to the foregoing remarks, of our institutions and usages,—the reasons by which they are vindicated,—and the practical working of them. But all this, though of course most interesting to the persons to whom it was addressed, would probably not be so to our readers, who must of course be familiar with discussions relative to our own institutions and customs, and curious rather to learn particulars concerning those of a strange nation, however unreasonable and whimsical their novelty may cause them to appear. For this reason, we have, in several other places as well as here, omitted much that we find recorded of the descriptions and discussions laid before the Southlanders by their guests; inserting only what was necessary to make their descriptions intelligible.]

Chapter IX.

Prediction Office.—Prophecies.—Useful Register.—Political Bustlers.—Disposal of Land.—Rents.—Laws of Tenantry.—Government Loans.

Among the other political curiosities, as they may be called, which came to the knowledge of the travellers, was a most whimsical institution, existing in several of the states, called a “prediction office;” viz. an establishment consisting of two or three inspectors and a few clerks, appointed to receive from any one, on payment of a trifling fee, any sealed-up _prediction_, to be opened at a time specified by the party himself. His name is to be signed to the prediction _within_; and on the outer cover is inscribed the date of its delivery, and the time when the seal is to be broken. There is no pretence made to supernatural prophetic powers; only, to supposed political sagacity.

At stated times, the inspectors break the seal of those papers whose term is elapsed, and examine the contents. In a great majority of cases, as might be expected, these predictions turn out either false, nugatory, or undecided: false, if contradicted by events; nugatory, if containing nothing but what had been naturally and generally anticipated by all,—like our almanacks, which foretell showers in April, heat in summer, and cold in winter; or undecided, when proceeding hypothetically on some _condition_ which does not take place,—as when a man foretells that _if_ such a measure be adopted, so and so will ensue; if then the measure is _not_ adopted, the prediction remains undecided. But here and there a case occurs in which a man has foretold truly something not generally expected, and the foreseeing of which evinces, accordingly, more or less of sagacity. In such a case he is summoned to receive an honourable certificate to that effect. And the travellers were assured that some of their most eminent men, who afterwards attained to offices of dignity and trust, had been first called into notice from obscurity by means of this office. The other predictions are kept and registered, but not made public, except when the author of any of them is named as a candidate for any public office.

Previously to any such appointment, the inspectors are bound to look over their register, and produce, as a set-off against a candidate’s claims, any unsuccessful prediction he may have sent in. “Oh that he were here,” exclaims Mr. Sibthorpe, “‘to write me down an ass!’ Many a man there is to whom we have committed important public trusts, who, if such an institution had existed among us, would be found to have formally recorded, under the influence of self-conceit, his own incapacity.” He seems to consider this portion of the effects of the plan as hardly less useful than the other,—the establishment of the claims of some to superior foresight.

“There is,” he adds, “among our political bustlers usually a great squabble when any event takes place on the question, whether any one, and who, may claim the honour of having foreseen it; and ill-founded claims are often admitted. Moreover, a prediction publicly uttered will often have had, or be supposed to have had, a great share in bringing about its own fulfilment. He who gives out, for instance, that the people will certainly be dissatisfied with such and such a law, is, in this, doing his utmost to _make_ them dissatisfied. And this being the case in all unfavourable, as well as favourable, predictions, some men lose their deserved credit for political sagacity through their fear of contributing to produce the evils they apprehend; while others, again, do contribute to evil results by their incapacity to keep their anticipations locked up in their own bosoms, and by their dread of not obtaining deserved credit. For such men, this office,” says he, “provides a relief like that which the servant of King Midas found by telling his secret to the hole he dug in the ground; only there are here no whispering reeds to divulge it.”

* * * * *

The mode in which the states that have considerable tracts of uncleared land in their territory usually dispose of these from time to time, struck the travellers as judicious and simple. When, from increasing population, a demand arises for a fresh portion of land requiring to be cleared and brought into cultivation, each person who desires to become a settler rents from the state (which, as has been before observed, is always held to be the sole proprietor in fee-simple of its whole territory,) a suitable allotment, at a rent which is always very small, and often merely nominal. He obtains a lease of this for a term of years,—commonly twenty-one,—either at this nominal rent for the whole term, or with a trifling increase for the last seven or fourteen years of it. At the end of the term, it is _divided_ between him and the state; part being made over to him in perpetuity, (subject to the general land-tax, or government-rent, as it is called,) and the other part reverting to the state. The proportions vary according as the expenses of reclaiming the land are greater or less. If the requisite outlay is considerable, the settler retains, perhaps, two-thirds, or even three-fourths, of the allotment; if the reverse, his share will be half, or one-third. In all cases, the proportions in which it is to be divided are a matter of express agreement previously to his first entering on the farm. Then, in order to secure a fair division of the land in respect of _quality_,—that the more fertile and the poorer land, the more and the less improved, may be duly apportioned,—recourse is had to the obvious plan of “one to divide and the other to choose.”

Suppose, for instance, the tenant is to be entitled by his contract to one-half; then, at the end of his term, he divi