BOOKS.
MR. WEMYSS REID'S LIFE OF MR. FORSTER.*
[FIRST NOTICE.]
Tras book is a very admirable piece of work which will justly gain for Mr. Wemyss Reid a still higher reputation than even that which he previously enjoyed for clear insight into character, sound judgment as to the proportions of life, graphic powers of delineation, and a businesslike grasp of political history. Of all mistakes in writing the Life of such a statesman as Forster, perhaps the very worst would have been to make the story of it too popular and super- ficial, too little saturated with that sense of laborious effort which was of its very essence ; and the next worst mistake would have been to make it in any sense dull, deficient in the impression of that continuous personal vigour which made Mr. Forster so impressive in dealing with the politics of his day. Mr. Reid has made neither mistake. The biography is fall of that sense of substance of which Mr. Forster's life was full, but it is deeply interesting to all who have lived through the political period to which it refers, and, so far as we can judge, will be deeply interesting even to future generations of politicians. Moreover, it delineates the non-political side of Mr. Forster's life with very great ability, though failing, perhaps, if it fails at all, in explaining the repulsion which he seemed to have not merely for politicians who felt the roughness of his manner without knowing the tenderness of his heart, but not unfrequently even for those whom he met in society, and whom he appeared, probably in sheer absence of mind, determined to ignore. Our own explana- tion of this is that the lethargy which so frequently fell upon his father, to that singularly admirable man's great distress, and which seemed at times to envelope him entirely in a sort of cloud, affected Mr. Forster himself more than any one would be aware of who knew him only as a politician or in relation to matters which deeply interested him. No man bad a keener eye for matters that he was really interested in watching, or a tenderer heart for feelings of which he was aware. But there was in him, we should say, a singular deficiency of observation for matters with which his mind was not occupied.' He would let even a lady whom he had taken in to dinner sit beside him without addressing a single word to her, if any one else were within hearing from whom he could gather information on subjects on which his mind was deeply stirred, and he was often entirely unconscious of the false effect of scorn which his brusque manner conveyed. The present writer well remembers the sardonic grin with which he rushed in and announced to two of his friends who were passionately desirous to see England taking the side of Denmark in the Schleswig-Holstein War, that the Government had determined not to intervene, turning on his heel after making the announcement, and rushing downstairs again without even a word to break the effect of his curt triumph over them. No one can read this Life without being sure,—even if they were not previously sure from their own observation,—that Mr. Forster was as sensitively reluctant to inflict pain as any tender-hearted woman. But undoubtedly he was one of those who in social intercourse did not put out feelers in all directions, whose social nature was often wrapped in a sort of lethargy of its own while his eager intelli- gence was hard at work ; and this utter absence of mind, this want of receptive instinct for taking in feelings outside the immediate circle of his deepest interests, produced a totally false impression of him on numbers of persons whose social contact with him was only casual. He had plenty of tact when his attention was awake ; but then, his attention was often not awake, nay, almost as far beyond the power of awakening to social impressions, as that of a mathematician absorbed in a great calculation. And when in a trance of this kind, he often gave offence of which he was wholly unconscious.
For the rest, Mr. Wemyss Reid's sketch of the man is admirably effective. He lets us see Mr. Forster both in great and little things,—in his determination to know all the details of any work which he had to master, learning to weave camlet for himself in a handloom of his own when he expected to be chiefly occupied in the camlet business ; sorting dirty wools
• 'rife of the Bight Honourable William Edward Forster, By T. Weaver Bed. 2 cola. London: Chapman and Hall. 1883.
for ten hours a day when he was anxious to learn the details of the woollen trade ; driving so recklessly in a very high gig into Bradford, that when the son of his
gig companion reproached his father with taking no notice of him, as he met him on the road, the unhappy
man replied, "Eh, bless thee, lad ; I had more to do than to take notice of thee : I was over-throng (busy) . making my peace with my Maker ;" swarming up one of the statues at the Tuileries after the Revolution of 1848, to get a better view of the vast crowd ; dodging an armed brigand on the top of the Asiatic Mount Olympus ; entering so passionately into the anti-slavery struggle in the United States, that even years before the war he wrote to an American correspondent that his hand shook with agitation as he tore open newspapers in which he expected to find fresh phases of the. great conflict; absolutely indifferent to the imminent danger of assassination which he incurred ;—and yet, with all this eagerness of nature, allowing his father to veto his most cherished wishes without a word of complaint
when he was already all but of age, and consoling in the tenderest way his mourning relatives in times of grief, getting up in his busiest moments to open the door for his dog, and showing in a hundred different ways how full of gentleness was the nature which externally seemed so rugged.
Mr. Wemyss Reid gives us ample evidence of Mr. Forster's keen intellectual insight into the characters of others, and shows us that if his character had not been in all its most distinctive points practical, and bent on doing con- siderable things for his fellow-countrymen, he might easily have gained for himself no inconsiderable literary repu- tation. The criticism passed on Lord Russell—then Lord John Russell—when Forster was a young man of twenty-nine, was a very striking one :—" What a strange little mortal he is to be ruler of a mighty nation, with his dwarf-like form and long, deep, remarkable head, and icy-cold expression, with every now and then a look of fire !" And how happy is his description of Monckton Manes teasing Carlyle till he made him inveigh against him, reminding one, says Forster, "of a naughty boy rubbing a fierce cat's tail backwards, and getting on between furious growls and fiery sparks, but managing to avoid the threatened scratches." His account, too, of Carlyle's overbearing will, as it was usually termed, was very subtle, and we believe true :—" It is not one of those wills which chills or constrains me, capable, indeed, of strong, fierce effort for opposition, but not a constant influence, of which the possessor is less conscious than any of those around him ; so, after all, with tact, one gets one's own way quite sufficiently with him." Here, too, is a vivid photograph of Blanqui, whom Forster saw in Paris in 1848, and evidently thoroughly dis- trusted :—" A small thin man, with close-cut hair, piercing fox-like eyes, which never looked his audience in the face, shrewd deep forehead, insinuating untrue smile, altogether a calculating, conspiring, bad face, but a very determined ex- pression." Nor could his criticism on Emerson have been keener than it was :—" He has a pair of good keen eyes, relies on them only, and tells you exactly what he sees. He is silently dogmatical ; does not intrude his views, or bear down yours ; but lets you see that your opposition has little weight with him ; that, in fact, all opposition is a matter of much indiffer- ence." The remarkable thing about these various judgments is their pithiness as well as graphic power. There is the genuine literary faculty in them. And if any one doubts Mr. Forster's literary strength, let him read the very remarkable
passage, of which Mr. Reid has given us the following account, from Forster's article in the Westminster Review on Uncle Tom's Cabin. For masculine eloquence it might almost have been extracted from one of Mr. Bright's finest speeches :— " Does Uncle Tom speak the truth ?' he asks, in his Westminster Review article. 'This cry, which echoing from one side of the Atlantic to the other, has found its way from his cabin to the hearts of millions, is it in truth the plaint and the prayer of the sufferer ; or is it not rather a cunningly devised fable, so cunning a device, that even when discovered it defies indignation ? Is this "life of the lowly" drawn from the life, or from the artist's imagination ? America is the home of the Irish outcast, the workhouse of the English pauper, a workhouse in which he is sure of both room and work. Can it be, then, that within the bounds of that union they separate man and wife ; not, indeed, as a condition of age or consequence of improvidence, but as the punishment of weakness, because the strong, by the right of his might, claims the sinews of the husband, or perchance the charms of the wife ? Surely in this hospitable region, to which hundreds daily fly from their miseries and mistakes, it cannot be the habit
to hunt women because they fly from the ravisher, and mothers because they cling to their children, and strong men because they
assert their manhood In a word, does Mrs. Stowe paint American slavery as it is, or does she not ? Most of our readers, we imagine, have answered in the affirmative, almost before they have asked themselves the question : the " yes " forced out of their beating hearts by her genius. But is this fair ? The good name of a great nation is at stake, and surely it ought not to be blasted by a mere tale, told ever so wisely, until at least its statements have been weighed.' Forster went on, with that eloquence which was only drawn from him under the influence of deep feeling, to discuss the evidence for and against Mrs. Stowe, taking occasion in doing so to speak of the action of the Times and of his friend and teacher, Mr. Carlyle, with courageous frankness. He main- tained the right of the neg,ro to those privileges of manhood which, in this country as well as in America, many of our most eminent men were at that time united in denying to him. He quoted Blue- Books and pamphlets, letters, speeches, and reports from the Society of Friends, to show that it was no overcoloured picture which Mrs. Stowe had painted ; and, in conclusion, he asked, How stand the chances of the slave? Law and force are against, but heart and eloquence and genius are for him, and they have a quick eye for the winning side. There are still speeches and sermons with- out number, and books not a few, against him. But what speeches, and what books ! The only books he need care for are the ledgers of the planter and his Northern creditor And now this wonderful Uncle Tom is going through the length and breadth of the North; ay ! and penetrating also into the South, forcing every one to hear his tale of woe and to ask himself first: "Can these things be ?" and then, "How long shall they last?" And this question, "How long ?" is not one which men will be contented with asking themselves. Oh no ! the time is at hand, we have faith to believe, when the citizens of the North will say to their com- patriots of the South, "We do not like this slave owning. You say it is your business ; we will take care that it is not ours. If you will have laws which sanction robbery, and order torture, which permit rape, and connive at murder ; if you will tear wives from their husbands, and children from their mothers • if you will let men sell their sons to the slave driver, and their daughters to. the seducer ; if you will make the ignorance of these negroes your excuse for enslaving them and yet will keep them untaught, and punish those who try to teach them,—we, at least, will not help you. We will no longer be either your slave catchers or their jailors : the soil which belongs to us both, shall be free; our- common city shall be a city of refuge ; the suppliants - who. come to us for succour shall not seek it in vain. Nay, further, you tell us to leave these men and women to your mercy,. because they belong to you. We cannot do so; for they are bound to us, by the ties of country, which we cannot sever without their consent. The time was, when they were supposed to be not men,. but things, chattels, or property ; but now we have discovered, they are men, ay, and our fellow-countrymen. We grant that it is your- place, your duty, to do justice to them, and we will give you time- to fill this plaw, and fulfil this duty; but if you will not do this. duty, nor even acknowledge it to be a duty, if you will neither freer these slaves, nor make any attempt to prepare them for freedom,. we dare no longer deny the claim of their fellow-citizenship. And. upon your heads be the consequences of this admission." " It is evident that Mr. Forster owed not a little to the Quaker saint whose son he was, though he probably owed him some of the discontinuity of sympathy and occasional bluntness of per- ception as well as of the purity and commanding conscientious- ness of his character. It is a great thing to be brought up by parents who were always enforcing one of the fundamental tenets of their Church, that "all service rendered as unto the Lord must be rendered without hope of any recompense in this world." And Forster reaped the full advantage of that un- worldly lesson. Again, one of his Quaker friends, complimenting him on work involving much labour which he had done for his uncle, Sir Thomas Powell Buxton, and counting (prematurely, as it proved) on the success of the anti-slavery policy which Sir T. F. Buxton was then advocating, writes to Forster (then
a youth of twenty),—" Your uncle has seen Lord Glenelg, and. learns that the Government adopts his plan. See fourth of Zechariah, What art thou, 0 mountain ? A plain.' " We believe that Forster owed a large proportion of his power to this energy of faith which lay at the background of all his work,—this profound belief that mountains will be made plain, if one has but the faith to set about the task of leveling them with a strength of volition and a laboriousness of purpose corresponding to the depth of belief. From beginning to end of his life, Forster worked as if it were nothing to level the mountain, when once he had been convinced that it was a divine work that had to be done, one on which the, blessing of heaven would rest. And one of his two mountains.
he did level, though he only undermined a part of the other, and left it threatening to fall upon him, as it actually fell on_ his immediate successor. But of his remarkable work as a statesman we will defer what we have to say, to our con- cluding notice of this admirable biography.
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