THE DUKE'S LOYALTY. [From the Times, September 22.]

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume IX, Issue 782, 29 January 1853, Page 4

THE DUKE'S LOYALTY. [From the Times, September 22.]

We said the other day, and we said it to the credit of this country, that it was impossible to enumerate or comprehend the various acts and kinds of homage Tendered to the Duke of Wellington throughout his long career. Perhaps we may now say the same of the honours that have been already offered to his memory. All parties, all schools of opinion, men the most different, tnd journals the most antagonistic, have agreed to touch with the gentlest possible hand their old grudges with the Duke, and to swell one great acclamation to hit patriotic virtues and colossal powers. The Duke was a thorough aristocrat, and though he gave his advice, his vote, and his influence for the people, yet he evidently regarded them as a human mass to be respected for their power and feared for their violence, to be spared domestic ills, and saved from a foreign foe. He understood them as he understood an army or a general that he bad to deal with ; bat he bad little more sympathy with them than a careful shepherd might have for his silly flock. He was not one of them. The natural result is that he has always been more respected than loved by the extreme Liberal party. In truth, though it was highly convenient to have a man in the country who could mediate so expeditiously and effectually between the people and the privileged classes, it was not complimentary to the former to be described to the latter ai an animal that must be appeased and tamed. Yet, as our readers would see by a very able article insert! Ed in our columns yesterday from a weekly conf temporary, the extreme section of the Liberal! shows a noble anxiety to do every possible jus! tice to this great champion of rnobifcchies ani* aristocracies. The writers generally brush awa from the question a heap of little prejudices am sore recollections, and confess to an honourable pride in the Duke's genuine English qualities, i his enttre loyalty and submission to the laws, i his continual sense of duty, in his calm courage and unwearied perseverance, in his uniform goo sense, in his unwearied industry, in his readines to make any sacrifice, to dare any danger, o brave any obloquy, in a word for that rare unioi o( qualities which rendered him for half a cen tury the mainstay and glory of this realm. Afte a seatching analysis of the Duke's character and a careful comparison with the more dazzling qualities of his great antagonist, our Radica contemporary awards the preference to his owr countryman, and that in a splendid though discriminating eulogy. Nay, the very anticipations of extreme Liberalism are made to contribute c new grandeur to the Duke's memory. He is described as the last of a procession of great old names, as the Northmen's ideal of Death en-j veloping in the dark folds of his robe the wholeL pageant of antiquity, of which we have now seen the last. i An equally honourable example of candour and good sense has been shown in another unexpected quarter, and it appeared side by side with the English essay in our yesterday's columns. The Assemble Nationale, the only member of the French press that now professes to be free, has ventured to tell the plain truth about Wellington and Napoleon, and told it so plainly as to incur the formal reproof of the Government. The facts of the Duke's life are so patent, so consecutive, and crowned with such a practical conclusion, that it requires great ingenuity to explain them away. But that ingenuity has long been vernacular in France. It is by this time bred in 10 the rare, and is now, as it appears, a matter of political necessity. The theory that Wellington stumbled into triumph by a long succession of blunders, that from one unmerited victory he boggled into another, that next to a fortune always above his deserts his chief means of success was the excessive stupidity of the British soldier, who never knew when he was beaten, and that after Wellington had comnrittcd the egregious error of straying into France, he received a final thrashing at Waterloo, and was only rescued from annihilation by the accidental arrival of another army in the field — all this is believed as much, perhaps, as anything else is believed, by our philosophical and credulous neighbours. The journal we have mentioned takes the safest estimate of the Duke of Wellington's character, and ventures to point out what really cannot be denied — his practical qualities — " a solid judgment, a cool reason, a wonderful justness of perception, both on the field of battle and in the Cabinet, the most penetrating good sense, amounting to a power which became genius, a perseverance which nothing could tire or turn aside, and the most unsbakeable firmness in great dangers." Our Parisian contemporary points out the perfect harmony between the qualities of the man and their actual results both in the field and the Cabinet. If bis military success was the result of a miraculous succession of lucky accidents, bow are we to account for the splendid position attained by the Duke in this country, and enjoyed with continual augmentation, to the very end of his cireer, so that one of the latest I

performance. Now, that is very much what we witness ia the wonderful success of the Exbibitfon last year,' and the present audacious attempt, not merely to repeat it, but to make it continual, The royal commission certainly lighted on its legs with surprising dexterity and grace, and it may be excused the challenge it threw out to the world when it declined the preservation of the building in Hyde Park ; but almost all the sentiment, if not all the actual precedents, of history and philosophy are dead against the hope of an equally successful repetition. Grent as was the misgivings of the wise and superstitious against the glass Babel of 1851, the omens are tenfold stronger against its perpetuation. It is the attempt to do what in everything seems to be forI bidden — to multiply a unity, to keep the tide ot ' human affairs always at full ebb, to catch Time otherwise than, by the forelock, which painters make his only handle, to prolong the golden period of youth, to have our life's opportunities again and again, to keep the cannon always at the flash — in a word, to do what idle and foolish people are always attempting. But if the attempt is difficult, success will be al! the more glorious. A happy accident, or a momentary triumph, has suggested many permanent institutions, and the latter are incomparably superieyr to the former. What are birthday illumination! to our regular gas lights? What are conduits running with wine to a good supply of water ? What are sumptuous carpets spread over the mud to a smooth stone pavement ? There lately appeared in these columns a comparison of the magnificent steamer lately built on the Clyde for Abbas Pasha with the gorgeous state in which Cleopatra was rowed on the Nile, and the raoial was, that tbe present ruler of Egypt has not only a much more comfortable, but also a much more magnificent equipage than his predecessor. Thus, if the sentiment is on one side, there is a good deal of matter of fact on tbe other, and there is no great presumption in hoping that the second Exhibition, even though it be borrowed from the first, and, what seems thought still more fatal to its interest, is only a mercantile speculation, may possibly beat the first in its success at well as its structure and contents. Indeed, as to the structure and its contents there is no matter of doubt. It is needless to re-

peat the description in our Tuesday's columns, but the much larger scale, the many new featnrss, and the additional decorations of the new building will go far to fulfil that fairy ideal which .many imaginative people desiderated in the original. The unbroken lines of ihe roof, the sbed-like appearance of the sides, the comparative lowneis of the nare, the plain butt ends of the building, and the want of repose for the eye, will be mended in the new Crystal Palace. It will be seen from many points of view, and the area about it will be harmonised to the character and purposes of the building, under the direction of the chief architect and landscape gardener of the age. The situation is not to be surpassed for convenience or beauty, and it will be no slight acquisition to the many opportunities of this metropolis that next year twenty minutes will take us from the Surrey side of our bridges to one of the roost extensive and picturesque prospects in England. Whatever there was in Hyde-park is to be capped at Norwood, which, by-tbe-bye, is the proper designation of the site. Even Appold's cascade, which astonished strangers es they walked down the nave, has suggested the hint of a cataract from the top of a lofty tower. The promenade on the roof, which was only talked of at the Exhibition, but never open»d to the public, is to form, we believe, a bonaf.de feature in the new arrangements. As to the means of access, everybody knows— most people to their cost — that hero I was the great drawback last year. Facilis dci scensus, but how go get away on a rainy day after five o'clock, especially with a party of ladies, was a hopeless task to the commonalty, not to speak of the minor troubles of those who had carriages of their own. There were days — not a few — when the road from Prince's-gMe to Piccadilly presented the aspect of a disastrous retreat, and when the mere damage of apparel by two hours of mud and r*in was estimated at £5000 or even £10,000. To how many rr.inds did it occur what a delightful thing a railway would be from Charing-cross, or some other central point, to the Crystal Palace. That wish is to be realised in the new building, where the railway will deposit all classes, from the wealthy duchess and her bevy of fair daughters to the artisan in his fustian jacket, right under cover. As to the internal decorations and ornamental contents, agents of well known zeal, information, and taste are now scouring the continent with no other limits to their acquisitiveness than such as the prudence and purse-strings of their employers have imposed. There does not want the taste or the will to accumulate at Norwood all that has escaped the national collections of Europe. The very example of last year, though to some craven spirits its magnitude may be discouraging, is only suggestive of desiderata to the ardent class of minds engaged in this new work. The great object is to make the new Exhibition surpass the old, were it only because there is no other way of making up for the want of novelty. There is one important part of the . question with which the public in general are not quite bo much concerned as certain city gentlemen and their friends. What sort of a return will there be for the capital likely to be sunk in such a work ? Ere this, collections, exhibitions, theatres, club-honses, and even railways, have no sooner been opened than they have pasted into strange hands, and wise men have dwelt in'houses built by fools. Such catastrophes have occurred from the mere pressure of the hour, when they might have been averted by timely precautions. The very success of the Exbibitiou last year is likely enough to dazzle and blind projectors and public, but, as was observed on Tuesday under the bead of the V New Crystal Palace," notwithI standing the vast amount of gratuitous assistance enjoyed by the Commissioners, aud the fact that not merely one Government, but many Governments forwarded the work, after all, the surplus I was not so large as to excuse a great risk in fuI ture undertakings of the kind. A 'merely moderate amount of success — only such success as people talked of the previous year — would have left the Commission in difficulties, and severely tried the tempers, if not the pockets, of the noble aud wealthy sureties. A merely moderate success might not affect a perfectly solvent undertaking, but would be a terrible blow if there were the least suspicion of difficulties. On this point, therefore, we are rejoiced to receive the assurance ol the Crystal Palace Company that, with one exception, all the larger contracts are taken, and the whole of the works will be finished within the subscribed capital of £500,000. This is as it should be. The new Crystal Palace will have this advantage over the old, that it can go on continually adding to its attractions. It need not put out all its strength at the first. If it starts without debt, and meets with moderate patronage, it can use its earnings, with leisure and opportunity, to make a much better collection than could be made all at once. There is much in the undertaking that suggests a comparison with the " Museum" at Versailles. There you have the Sunday's excursion, about a dozen miles from Paris, and connected with it by two railways ; a colossal edifice surrounded by endless gardens, terraces, fountains, and promenades ; iv the building you have a vast circuit of magnificent halls, with eight miles, as it is said, of paintings and sculptures. It is unnecessary to say that the building and grounds were not done by contract, nor did they pay. Louis XIV burnt the bills in disgust, and the cost contributed to the downfall of the monarchy. The two railways, however, pay, we believe, and a good many restaurants and hotel keepers drive a profitable trade under the shadow of the " Museum." The Crystal Palace, then, will be our Versailles, and in some respects the better of the two. We shall see something more interesting than acres of battles by land and by sea, carnage and conflagration, relieved here and there with the gaudy record of some pompous ceremonial. We shall see something nobler than " all the glories of France," for there will be brought together all the glories of nature and art from the whole world. If the Versailles, with its two railways, and rather limited range of attractions, still " draws" very well from a metropolis of no more than a million, the new Crystal Palace has quite as good a chance of visitors from a thriving and locomotive population of double that amount. The first thing, however, is to start fair, and that, we are assured, is now placed beyond doubt.

public acts of his life was to render personal assiattnce to the Queen in weighing the balance of parties? In the case of Napoleon Bonaparte the writer is so bold as to admit that in spite of his prodigious powers he overreached himself and failed ; so that if the commencement of his career looks very brilliant by the side of Wellington's, the conclusion is all the other way. Lastly, our contemporary, after alluding to the splendid success which rewarded thislife of labour and self-de-nial, does justice to the universal regrets with which England follows her gr t eat commander and statesman to bis tomb. Here, then, are two weighty testimonies, expressed with great force and even eloquence, and coming from quarters where political or national antipathy are usually allowed to reign supreme. And now for another testimony still more weighty, inasmuch as it is offered io spite of a combination of political and national antipathies. This wreath, not of bays, but of prickly holly, is offered by two amiable contemporaries breathing tbe mild air of the Atlantic in the classic city of Galway. They freely acknowledge the " mighty genius of the departed hero." They chide the cold tone and scant measure of our praise. " Wellington," as they express it, was "one of the eyes of England." He was " the greatest commander that ever led the British airoies to victory." We may well weep over his coffin for now he is gone we may soon want one like him. Bat the climax of tbe eulogy — which, however, these writers express in the language of complaint — is that Wellington was thoroughly, deliberately, and consistently loyal to the Sovereign whom he served. Perverse, cold, itupid, mistaken man that he was, he would not rebel. He commanded the British armies against all sorts of foreign foes, with a csrtain cold-blooded, calculating, commercial sort of courage, and so enabled England to maintain her ascendancy at borne. In doing this he was a traitor to Ireland. " May Erin never rear such another son, to turn his mighty genius to the service of her tyrant I" Bat Wellington, it seems, had no soul for agitation or rebellion. " There was not an atom of chivalry about the Duke. There was no heart in his righting. He served a commercial people steadily, rigidly, soberly, regularly, I just as a commercial people likes to be served. He was no boiling enthusiast ; he was cold. I rigid, and calculating — in a word, the Iron Duke, He devoted himself to the English service." Yes. There is tbe one unpardonable sin in Galway, for which there is neither political indulgence nor priestly absolution. The Duke was loyal. He was provokiogly, stupidly, obstinately loyal. With one spark of true' heroism bow different his career would have been At the head of tbe United Irishmen, he might! have achieved the independence of bis country — and then woe to England ? Under him the Irish Brigade would once more have followed the standard of France. Ireland would still shout as of old, Faugh-a-ballagk- — whatever that may happen to mean — under the bright emblazonry of the silken banner of every country that hates TWmiT W1 ■■l.LJ^^^^^^^M