London Magazine: A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION VOL. IV. Oliver Cromwell reproved by his dying Daughter. FROM A PAINTING IN THE NEW WATER-COLOUR EXHIBITION, BY L. HICKS, RSQ. ERAS OF ENGLISH CIVILIZATION. WHEN the naturalist looks upon an ancient oak, he perceives on its twisted branches and knotted trunk the marks of many ages; the traces of five hundred winter storms, and the memorials of as many springs. By the aid of these signs he is enabled to compose a history of the tree, and enumerate the years which have rolled away since the patriarch of the forest first rose like a tender blade of grass above the surface of the earth. plied causes of the civilization now existing around us." The reader will not, of course, expect that numerous subjects can be fully discussed in a single article of a periodical like this; he must, therefore, (begging his pardon for the must) rest content with a sort of telescopic survey of this wide theme, comprehending the whole field of English history, and the diversified path of strife and glory along which the empire has advanced. If some of the subjects about to be noticed appear less directly connected with "English civilization" than others, the reader will remember that the agencies of national progress are as widely ramified in their as the laws of the material universe. We shall as much as possible preserve the chronological order of the different eras, that the reader may the more easily trace the growth of the system now flourishing around him, and we therefore commence with 1. THE ERA OF FEUDALISM. In like manner the historian of human progress-operations, and as strangely complicated in their effects, the student of mankind-sees in the visible customs of a people, and the institutions of an empire, indications of the various stages through which the nation has passed, and the successive epochs when fresh and important changes modified the whole social life of such a kingdom. All old states must exhibit, in their present condition, the various impressions stamped upon them by past ages; just as an ancient deed retains the quaint devices and old-fashioned seals of other times. Every European country bears about with it the traces of its history, and the peculiar character imparted by each bygone generation; as ancient mansions receive from each successive occupier some modification of the original buildings, by which the antiquary can trace their history from the rude fortalices of barbarous times to the noble castellated piles of the border warden. The study of such epochs in a nation's history opens a thousand deeply interesting and grand views of man, and, like some long vista in a landscape, brings the mind into close contact with the distant and the great. This is true, whatever be the people whose history engages our attention; whether modern Turkey, or ancient Greece; for all large communities present aspects of human nature most instructive to him who, with a thoughtful and fixed intelligence, meditates thereon. But, when England is the subject of our review, the general interest belonging to such a theme is deepened into a specially absorbing feeling, for the eras through which our land has passed are but the various stages of existence successively possessed by our own ancestors, and must therefore have for us, their children, a peculiar fascination. We hope no reader will be forced to ask "What is feudalism?" but, lest even one should be left in doubt, a few words must be devoted to those who are unacquainted with this ancient system. The term feudal is derived from an old word feoda, which signifies a reward, and was used to denote the consideration made to a knight or soldier for following the king to his wars. In early ages paid soldiers, men devoted to the military profession, did not exist; every owner of land was expected to be always ready to defend the state against its enemies, on which condition his lands were held. For the sake of illustration, let us suppose a person named A to receive an estate of one hundred acres from the king, on condition of giving his services for forty days every year to aid the monarch against his enemies. A is said to hold a fief, he is called a vassal, and the granter of his estate is termed his lord. All the lands in England were thus held in the time of William I., and historians have usually applied the term feudal to designate the whole system. According to this scheme the king was lord of all the land, the possessors of estates held them from him, and those again had their own vassals, from whom they received homage and service. The reader may now ask how such a system can have contributed to the progress civilization; for surely, he will say, the feudal system was peculiarly tyrannical, abounding in ferocious crimes and the grossest superstitions. We do not stand up as the advocates of feudalism, but, as the expounders of its results, we affirm that it promoted in some particulars the civilization of England, and that the doughty barons of the eleventh and twelfth centuries rendered, without knowing it, great benefit to their country. One of the effects of this system was the If the old man delights to reflect upon the scenes of his childhood and youth, recalling with tender delight the old grove of elms with its violet banks, the millstream now all silent and lone, and the old parish church with its grey ivied walls; so must an old nation (that is, all its thoughtful members) feel a peculiar pleasure in reviewing the eventful stages of the past. For nations, like men, have a life which admits of such a survey; the beginnings and progress in either case being equally subjects for retrospection. If an observ-formation of centres of power, around which the great ing man were to direct his whole attention on his past life, he would doubtless be able to recall many of the ruling events which have formed his character and made him the man he now is; such facility of retrospection in national matters is given to an Englishman by the abundance and fulness of his national annals, which are to him what memory is to the individual. Availing ourselves of such help, let us now attempt to collect into one field of view the various eras through which England has advanced to her present position. Such a survey will not, ought not to be, a mere intellectual pastime, nor a temporary stimulus of the imagination; but a view suggesting important reflections, confirming just sentiments, and increasing the fervour of a true nationality. The title of this paper is, "Eras of English Civilization;" and the reader may now ask, What is the line of reflection to which my attention is summoned?" The answer may thus be given: "We intend to present the periods in which some civilizing agency has been powerfully developed on English soil; thus noting the different stages of the nation's advance, and the multi energies of the times might develop their might. When power is dispersed into a thousand points, no channel exists through which the forces of the nation can efficiently act. Such a country resembles a steamengine in which the power, so far from acting at fixel points, escapes from the cylinder by a hundred aper tures; and, though steam may be abundant, the machine is useless for want of concentrated energy. It is invariably observed that, before a people can advance in civilization, certain reservoirs of power are created, by which the society answers the stern call of emergencies as they rise. It matters little whether such political levers are found in towns or castles; exist they must before the rudeness of humanity can be disciplined to any high result. Anarchy, with its ceaseless tempests, overturning all things, or despotism revelling in a melancholy calm over a fettered people, must arise where no such system is found. Suppose that, in the time of John, no feudal barons had existed, that despicable monarch would have been able to oppress the land without fear of a check; for no other force could have extorted the great charter, and made Runnymede a name of glory. Feudalism had, however, provided its strong rallying points, around which the national powers gathered, and restrained both the arrogance of the king, and the encroachments of the pope. No popular rising, unless guided by the heads provided by the feudal organization of the age, could have laid the secure basis upon which the noble structure of English liberties was finally raised. The towns themselves, the homes of early civilization, were nourished by feudalism until sufficiently strong to dispense with its aid; for beneath the shelter of the baronial fortalice the humble vills' first arose, and subsequently expanded into populous cities, independent boroughs, and flourishing market towns. Some may object that the feudal nobles were often the greatest oppressors of the towns, and the tyrants of the people; but the general fact, that the burghs first grew up under feudal protection, is not overturned by special cases of local rapacity. Nothing is clearer in the earlier part of the Middle Ages than the eagerness of individuals and communities to place themselves under the protection of a powerful superior, whose aid they might invoke against all spoilers. Thus vassalage was voluntarily sought for the sake of the security rendered by the baron to his dependant. A system of mutual service then arose, the lord engaging to protect, the vassal promising to serve; which bound up in one great organization the mass of the people, and prepared them for the subsequent stages of an illustrious progress. What could have secured such a result in a half civilized age but the solemnities and oaths of the feudal homage, which created a species of relationship between the tenant and the lord? That feudalism was accompanied by grievous evils is admitted, but let us not forget amid its dark points the ameliorating results of its far extended agency. The Egyptian would be deemed unreasonable who should be solely intent on the mischiefs produced by the flooding of the Nile, and forget the fertilizing effects of the inundation. Somewhat similar are sweeping and unqualified condemnations of the whole feudal system, by men who forget the various agencies required by the diverse conditions of widely separated ages. Such a system would now be a calamity; once it wrought effectually for good, and must therefore be classed with the causes which have promoted the civilization of England. This will be further evident, when we consider how much of our national improvement is traceable to that early elevation of women in the social system produced by the knightly spirit of the feudal era, which, though it occasionally wandered into the absurdities of a wild romance, fostered that female dignity which it so well appreciated. Such a result would of itself entitle feudalism to rank as one of the eras of English civilization, and exhibits an attractive oasis in the long waste of ancient barbarism. 2. THE ERA OF THE CRUSADES. The above considerations on the influence of the feudal system, naturally lead us to contemplate the consequences of those singular wars, which combined in so remarkable a degree the spirit of chivalry with that of religion, and arrayed the knight with the pilgrim in the serried ranks of war. Were not the crusades a barbarous and useless expenditure of life, and did they not spread desolation over some of the fairest regions of Europe and Asia? A very natural question is this for him to propose who has just read some account of the ravages perpetrated by the half-armed, ill-disciplined, and starving hordes, whom a wild enthusiasm carried from the extremes of Western Europe to the plains of Palestine. To vindicate these wars is not our object, but simply to ascertain their effects on the civilization of England, all other subjects being left to the imagination, or the investigation of the reader. How did the crusades aid the advance of England in power, refinement, or wealth? In the first place, they (1) Vill is the old word for a town. forced the land from her isolated state of a spectator on the frontiers of Europe, into the activities of an enlarged intercourse with distant countries. Before these wars drew the lord from his castle, the peasant from his hut, the burgher from his tithing, and the monk from his convent, England knew little of the world beyond her narrow seas, save some stormy acquaintance and suspicious dialogues with her neighbour France. Now and then a pilgrim returned from the Holy Land, after years of suffering, to startle the wondering burghers, or the amazed knight, by descriptions of the mysterious East, and the woful condition of the Holy City. But, when thousands marched under the banners of Coeur de Lion, and joined with French, German, and Italians, in the grand onset, which swept for a time the hordes of Asia before the lances of Europe, a wide world was opened to the view of our ancestors, which necessarily introduced many ideas and habits before unknown. In this respect, the crusades were a valuable school for insulated Britain, bringing her into communion with the whole of Christendom, and expanding the minds of her nobles and clergy with the literature and knowledge of distant lands. Another result flowing from the crusades, was that re-distribution of landed property which produced a vast change in the condition of England, and prepared the way for further beneficial alterations. When the centres of power, provided by the feudal system, had done their appointed work, and organized the national resources, it became necessary to permit the increase of other principles, which might act as a counterpoise to the undue powers of the baronial order. But how could another class of interests be raised as an antagonist to the feudal, whilst the victors of Hastings held their domains and strong fortresses? The towns could not accomplish this, for they were the pupils, not as yet the rivals, of the castles; nor did any mercantile order exist possessed of an influence fitted to cope with, or check the pride of, territorial power. The kings were also weak, and in many cases inferior in resources to the great nobles, who yielded but a reluctant homage to fictitious potentates. In the preceding section, we have represented feudalism as a civilizing agent, but this was only the case until it had formed centres of power; after this, a check was required to prevent the growth of evils natural to the system of the sword. It was necessary that the people and the crown should receive an increase of privileges at the expense of the castle. The knightly lance had undoubtedly wrought some glorious deeds for the land, but that same lance must be watched, or it may soon be pointed against the very persons it has protected. But who shall diminish the might of the baron,-who lower his pennon, or rein the wild spirits in the train of feudalism? The crusades accomplished this. Did the baron wish to join the host about to depart for Palestine, did he listen with glowing soul to the loud call of his compeers, and desire to bear for his escutcheon the famed red cross? He must first part with his broad lands to procure money for such a voyage; neither Venetian nought, nor can enthusiasm of the loftiest order hope nor Genoese fleets' will transport the bold crusader for to be fed by miracles in the Eastern deserts. lands won at Hastings were therefore sold, or left as pledges, till the bold crusader returned laden with the spoils of the East. To whom did these estates of freedom from the over-awing presence of powerful pass? Probably to the king, delighted at the prospect to the rank of the old territorial lords. The once peers; or to some merchant, who thus raised his family proud possessor of a wide domain often perished in the to behold his broad lands in the possession of another. Holy Land, or returned with the loss of all his treasures The case we have just imagined illustrates the trans The (1) The sea ports of the Italian States, especially Venice and Genoa, furnished most of the ships us.d for transporting various crusading armies to Palestine. fers of property, and therefore of influence, produced in numberless instances by the crusades. Such changes increased the power of the crown, producing a new centre of power, still more favourable to civilization than those created by feudalism; or they raised the merchants to a rank which the possession of land could alone confer in those times. The towns were freed from the interference of the barons, or purchased valuable privileges with the money required to conduct a crusading band to the walls of Jerusalem, or the ramparts of Acre. Thus, amid the struggles of Europe and Asia, the ruin of mighty armies, and the sufferings of millions, the agencies of civilization were working deeply in the system of English society. Little did Saladin think, when his forces were crushed on the field of Ascalon by the mailed chivalry of England, that the absence of those fierce warriors was working such future good for the distant isle of the West; we must not, however, forget the wide and lasting effect of these memorable expeditions on the civilization of our land. 3. ERA OF THE ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT. despotism instead of the ark of freedom; but yet the FRANK FAIRLEGH; OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES.1 CHAP. VIII. THE RIDDLE SOLVED. UPON what trifles do the most important events of our lives turn! Had I quitted the room according to my intention, I should not have had an opportunity of seeing Miss Saville alone again, as she returned to Barstone that afternoon, in which case she would probably have forgotten, or felt afraid to avail herself of would have ceased, and the deep interest I felt in her, my promised assistance, all communication between us having nothing wherewith to sustain itself, would, as years passed by, have died a natural death. Good resolutions are, however, proverbially fragile, and, in nine cases out of ten, appear made, like children's toys, only to be broken. Certain it is, that in the present instance, mine were rendered of none avail, and, for any good effect that they produced, might as well never have been formed. wise, and in doing so, accidentally dropped a or rather We now turn from embattled hosts in Syria to the agitations of society in the burghs and shires of England during the thirteenth century. What stirring associations rise at the sound of thy name, Old Simon de Montfort! The idlest schoolboy often makes a pause in the hurried mechanical reading of his lesson in "Goldsmith," when told that with this man the British Parliament began. We think of him whilst passing in front of the stately edifice rising with imperial magnificence on the banks of the Thames, and throwing into shade the old Abbey and the Hall of Rufus. We do not pause to determine whether he should be called a political schemer, a daring rebel, or a bold patriot; it is enough that many ages have ascribed to the French noble the beginning of an institution which has found on English soil an immovable foundation. Magna Charta itself loses some of its glory when compared with the memorable event, which shall preserve through all ages the name of Simon de Montfort. His fate on the field of Evesham, when crushed by vastly superior forces, may not have been unmerited; but the peers and commons of England are not disposed to criticise the man whose boldness made a golden calendar for England.2 The reader will, perhaps, pardon us for not plunging into the vexatious question respecting the exact year or day when the representatives of counties, cities, and boroughs sat in full parliament assembled. The repre-dering while she spoke, as at the aspect of some loath"Yes; that is his hateful name," she replied, shudsentative system may doubtless be traced to periods before the age of De Montfort in England, but must certainly be regarded as the originator of our parlia ments in the full sense of the term. From this era we see another centre of power in operation, more powerful than aught provided by feudalism, as it concentrated the whole of the national energies. That the age marked by the origin of our parliament must be classed with the eras of English civilization, will be at once admitted by all Englishmen, from the highest person in the realm to the peasant who handles the plough, unless ignorance of so great a fact may excuse any of the latter from the least reflection on such a subject. What a view does the history of the British parliament present, since the gushing forth of the springs in the thirteenth century. Little did some rate its influence, as, for a long period, it ran through sluggish regions, now pent up by the adamantine walls of the baronial fortress, now turned aside by some vast obstacle raised against its current "What do you know him, then?" she inquired, anxiously. him but too well, and he is the only human being I "If he be the man I mean," was my answer, "I know both dislike and despise. Was not that letter written by Richard Cumberland?" of the most passionate entreaty, she exclaimed, "Oh! Mr. Fairlegh, only save me from him, and I will bless you, will pray for you!" and completely overcome by her emotion, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, had not I supported her. There is a sort of feeling which a man experiences when he has bravely resisted some hydra-headed temptation to do anything "pleasant but wrong;" or, at all events, highly inexpedient, yet which circumstances appear determined to force upon him; he struggles against it boldly at first; but, as each victory serves only to lessen his own strength, while that of the enemy continues unimpaired, he tells himself that it is useless to contend longer-that the monster is too strong for him, and he yields at last, from an impulse of fatalism and despairframe of mind, which seeks to relieve itself from all a sort of "have-it-your-own-way-then" responsibility, by throwing the burden on things in general-the weakness of human nature the force of circumstances or any other indefinite and conventional scape-goat, which may serve his purpose of self-excul (1) This celebrated earl was a younger son of the Count de Montfort, the leader of the barbarous crusade against the Albipation. genses. He married the Princess Eleanor, and thus became connected with the royal family of England. (2) The reverence with which the great earl's memory was long cherished, may be estimated from the popular name, "Sir Simon the Righteous," long given to him, in spite of his foes. In much such a condition did I now find myself; I felt that I was regularly done for-completely taken (1) Continued from page 199. by storm-and that nothing was left for me but to yield to my destiny with the best grace I could. I, therefore, seated myself by Miss Saville on the sofa, and whispered, "You must promise me one thing more, Clara, dearest-say that you will love me--give me but that right to watch over you—to protect you, and believe me, neither Cumberland, nor any other villain, shall dare for the future to molest you." As she made no answer, but remained with her eyes fixed on the ground, while the tears stole slowly down her cheeks, I continued-" You own that you are unhappy--that you have none to love you-none on whom you can rely;-do not then reject the tender, the devoted affection of one who would live but to protect you from the slightest breath of sorrow-would gladly die, if, by so doing, he could secure your happiness." "Oh! hush, hush!" she replied starting, as if for the first time aware of the tenour of my words; "you know not what you ask; or even you, kind, noble, generous, as you are, would not seek to link your fate with one so utterly wretched, so marked out for misfortune as myself. Stay," she continued, seeing that I was about to speak, "hear me out. Richard Cumberland, the man whom you despise, and whom I hate only less than I fear, that man have I promised to marry, and, ere this, he is on his road hither to claim the fulfilment of the engagement." "Promised to marry Cumberland !" repeated I, mechanically, "a low, dissipated swindler-a common cheat, for I can call him nothing better; oh, it's impossible-why, Mr. Vernon, your Guardian, would never permit it." "My Guardian!" she replied, in a tone of the most cutting irony; "were it not for him this engagement would never have been formed; were it not for him I should even now hope to find some means of prevailing upon this man to relinquish it, and set me free; Richard Cumberland is Mr. Vernon's nephew, and the dearest wish of his heart is to see us united." 66 "He never shall see it while I live to prevent it!" replied I, springing to my feet, and pacing the room with angry strides. Oh, it was all plain to me now! when I had fancied her guardian's features were not unfamiliar to me, it was his likeness to Cumberland which had deceived me; his rudeness on the night of the ball; the strange dislike he appeared to feel towards me ;---all was now accounted for. His opinion of me, formed from Cumberland's report, was not likely to be a very favourable one; and this precious uncle and nephew were linked in a scheme to destroy the happiness of the sweetest girl living, the brightness of whose young spirit was already darkened by the shade of their vile machinations; but they had not as yet succeeded; and if the most strenuous and unceasing exertions on my part could serve to prevent it, I inwardly vowed they never should. Let Master Richard Cumberland look to himself; I had foiled him once, and it would go hard with me but I should do so again." Having half thought half uttered the foregoing resolutions, I once more turned towards Miss Saville, who sat watching me with looks of interest and surprise, and said, "This is a most strange and unexpected affair; but, remember, Clara, you have appealed to me to save you from Cumberland, and to enable me to do so, you must tell me exactly how matters stand between you, and, above all, how, and why, you were induced to enter into this engagement, for I hope-I think-1 am right in supposing-that affection for him had nothing to do with it." "Affection!" she replied, in a tone of voice which, if any doubts still lingered in my mind, effectually dispelled them; "have I not already said that I hate this man as, I fear, it is sinful to hate any human being? I disliked and dreaded him when we were boy and girl together, and these feelings have gone on increasing year by year, till my aversion to him has become one of the most deeply-rooted instincts of my nature." "You may well ask," was the reply; "it was folly; it was weakness; but I was very young,-a mere child in fact; and they made me believe that it was my duty: then I hoped, I felt sure, that I should die before the time arrived to fulfil the engagement; I fancied it was impossible to be so miserable, and yet to live but Death is very cruel-he will not come to those who pine for him." "Clara," interrupted I, "I cannot bear to hear you say such things; it is not right to give way to these feelings of despair." "Is it wrong for the unhappy to wish to die?" she asked, with a calm child-like simplicity, which was most touching. "I suppose it is," she continued, "for I have prayed for death so often, that God would have granted my prayer had it been a right one. When I closed my eyes last night, oh! how I hoped-how I longed-never to open them again in this miserable world,- for I felt that evil was at hand; you laughed at my presentiment; it has come true, you see." 64 Believe me, you do wrong in giving way to these despairing thoughts-in encouraging these morbid fancies," returned I. "But time presses; will you not tell me the particulars of this unhappy engagement, that I may see how far you stand committed to this fellow Cumberland, and decide what is best to be done for the future. "It is a long story," she replied, "but I will tell it you as shortly as I can. She then proceeded to inform me that her mother having died when she was an infant, she became the idol of her surviving parent, who, inconsolable for the loss of his wife, lavished all his tenderness upon his little girl. She described her childhood as the happiest part of her life, although it must have been happiness of a tranquil nature, differing greatly from the boisterous merriment of children in general; its chief ingredient being the strong affection which existed between her father and herself. The only guest who ever appeared at the Priory, (which I now for the first time learned had been the property of Sir Henry Saville,) was his early friend Mr. Vernon, who used periodically to visit them, an event to which she always looked forward with pleasure, not so much on account of the presents and caresses he bestowed on herself, as that his society appeared to amuse and interest her father. On one of these occasions, when she was about nine years of age, Mr. Vernon was accompanied by a lad some years older than herself, whom he introduced as his nephew. During his visit, the boy, who appeared gifted with tact and cunning beyond his years, contrived so much to ingratiate himself with Sir Henry Saville, that, before he left the Priory, his host, who had himself served with distinction in the Peninsula, expressed his readiness to send him, on attaining a fit age, to one of the military colleges, promising to use his interest at the Horse Guards to procure a commission for him. These kind intentions, however, were fated not to be carried out. An old wound which Sir Henry had received at Vimiera broke out afresh, occasioning the rupture of a vessel on the lungs, and in the course of a few hours Clara was left fatherless. On examining the private papers of the deceased, it appeared that Mr. Vernon was constituted sole executor, trustee for the property, and guardian to the young lady. In these various capacities, he immediately took up his residence at Barstone, and assumed the direction of everything. And now for the first time did his true character appear-sullen and morose in temper, stern and inflexible in disposition, cold and reserved in manner, implacable when offended, requir ing implicit obedience to his commands, he seemed calculated to inspire fear instead of love, aversion rather than esteem. The only sign of feeling he ever showed was in his behaviour towards Richard Cumberland, for |