THE PARK AND THE PADDOCK.
TAXATION is a weighty affair : heavy in its amount, heavy to bear, heavy to pay, heavy to expound. Miss MARTINEAU has rendered her treatment of it light, by giving us little of the sub- ject, and that little rather of a superficial kind.
The principles which the Park and the Paddock is intended to illustrate are not separately stated, as in the Illustrations of Poli- tical Economy ; nor are they very clearly brought out in the course of the tale. But we gather that taxation should be equal; that direct taxes are to be preferred to indirect; that no tax should be made perpetual, like our Land-tax; and that the House-duty is better than the Window-duty, especially if it were equally im- posed. The vexations of the present mode of levying the As- sessed Taxes are also pretty clearly shown, in a scene before the
• Commissioners. But the result which the whole leaves upon our mind is an opinion we expressed in the opening words of our Supplement on the subject (and from which Miss MARTINEAu has pretty freely drawn), that "all taxation is an evil."
Taxation, however, is not the only question discussed in the Park and the Paddock. There is a night encounter with poachers ; and the evils of the Game-laws are treated at length. The doings, or rather the misdoings and the non-doings of the Great Unpaid, are also cleverly indicated ; and we have an illustration of some of the mischiefs arising from the connexion between Church and State, in a sketch of a sporting young parson, and a male flirt, who is inducted to a living not because he desired it or was qua- lified for the ministerial otlice, but the advowson was in the family gift. It will be seen that these subjects are various enough; but, as a tale, it is not perhaps one of Miss MARTINEAU'S best. The novel is not developed till towards the close; and though we read on not unpleasantly in the earlier parts, the interest is somewhat in the nature of a riddle—we are puzzled to divine how the science is to be brought in. Neither is there so much richness or fore.: of composition as in some of the others; but the writer is as shrewd in her remarks and as happy in her touches as ever.
The work does not admit of many extracts. Here is a clever
LANDSCAPE-OCTOBER 'MORNING.
These October mornings were glorious. One especially, when the whole family were anxious for fine weather, equalled any that she had enjoyed in a Southern climate. It was to be a morning of fishing,—the first regular fishing- party since their arrival; and Fanny was at her window before the rich hues of the sunrise had melted from the Northern mountain-tops, or the white frost evaporated horn the unsunned lawn. The face of the limestone rocks opposite was gray in the shadow, and the stream below was yet black as if it had no bottom ; but the rays were abroad which would soon make it gleans at every bend, and paint in It the reflection of the autumn leaves that yet danced above it when the breeze sported in the overhanging coppice on the hither side. Some of the loftiest trees in the park already began to be lighted up; and on a green platform of the retiring rocks, the blue roofs of a little hamlet glistened in the gush of sunshine poured upon them through the chasm which brought the waters from the heights to the cisterns at the doors of the inhabitants. Already might the hind be distinguished, pacing forth warily from the thicket, and looking from side to side, while her fawn bounded past her, breast-high in the hoar grass. Already might the shepherd and his dog be distinguished on the faint track of the sheep-walk, now driving their scudding flock, and now let- ting them disperse themselves over the upland. Already were lively voices heard below the window, and already were busy hands making a picturesque display of nets and wicker baskets on the grass. Never was there a lovelier morning seen.
We have mentioned James Cranston, the clerical production of Church and State. The following quotation exhibits a piece of him. It is to be trusted, however, that in the closing passage the author has been swayed a kettle by sectarian feelings. Things quite as bad, or, morally speaking, very much worse, may be found in real life; but this is worse than a crime—it is an inde- corum. The records of the Ecclesiastical Courts may indeed be alleged against us: they, however, are the exception rather than the rule.
" Who is going to ride?" she asked, seeing that a groom was leading a saddled horse. " Who wants Diamond this morning, James?"
" I do. Ah ! it is a great plague that anybody should want to be buried this morning, of all mornings. But I put the people off before, and I cannot do it again. I can get it over, with what else I have to do, before you have finished your sport, if you will only make me sure where I may find you. That is what I am settling now ; and then I am off." " But what else have you to do? A marriage or two, perhaps?"
" Very likely ; and three or four more funerals. They find they must make the most of me when they can catch me. But the business I mean is' looking about to see where I shall build my house. You ought to be with me far that. If your mare was but here, I would make you give up the fishing for to-day, and ride over with Inc."
" I will du that when you know there is to be a wedding or two. The little brides will not object to my seeing them married, I dare say ; and I should like to make acquaintance with these mountain brides that you used to talk so finely about before —"
" Before I saw them—before I knew how confoundedly they would come ha the way of sport. I have seen none yet that it would be worth your while to ride seven miles to make acquaintance with. I don't see how they are better than the Easter Monday brides in Birmingham, in tawdry shawls and flying ribbons. If they have not such gay shawls, they are ten times more dull and silly : so, if you mean to keep your romance about them, you must keep your distance too. Good-by : only be so good as not to leave Moystarn before two, unless you see me sooner." • * James put as little sanctity into the service as could be desired by the strongest foe to hypocrisy, or lamented by his astonished curate. Why Morse should be so proud as he was of being married by anybody who could marry him in such a manner as this, was more than a stranger could comprehend. In the midst, the cry of the hounds was heard. The clergyman stopped a moment, and went on uneasily. Another cry followed, and he halted again. Morse made bold to step forward and whisper. - " If there had been no other clergyman here, I don't know that I should bare offered such a thing as to put our affair off till to-morrow; but perhaps that gentleman—I think it is a pity, Sir, you should lose the hunt, Sir, on our account; that's all. But you are the best lodge sir." In another minute, James leaped upon his horse at the church-door, and his curate had taken his place at the altar, so discomposed as to find it difficult to proceed as if nothing had happened. When all was done, Sarah was still pale with the sense of insult, while her husband; was congratulating himself on his own good-breeding in not standing in the way of his young master's pleasure.
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