Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847Various
History
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
None ever spake to Cromwell before, sending a word of cheer across the
centuries—not the “hear!” “hear!” of modern parliaments, but the
congratulation and sympathy of a brother soul. The Letters and Speeches
owe not a little to the “Intercalations” and “Annotations” of the
“latest of the Commentators.” The reader will not soon forget how like a
happy merchant in the crowd, listening to his favorite speaker, he is
all on the alert, and sympathetic, nudging his neighbors from time to
time, and throwing in his responsive or interrogatory word. All is good,
both that which he didn’t hear, and that which he did. He not only makes
him speak audibly, but he makes all parties listen to him, all England
sitting round, and give in their comments, “groans,” or “blushes,” or
“assent;” indulging sometimes in triumphant malicious applications to
the present day, when there is a palpable hit; supplying the look and
attitude of the speaker, and the tone of his voice, and even rescuing
his unutterable, wrecked and submerged thought,—for this orator begins
speaking anywhere within sight of the beginning, and leaves off when the
conclusion is visible. Our merchant listens, restless, meanwhile,
encouraging his fellow-auditors, when the speech grows dim and involved,
and pleasantly congratulating them, when it runs smoothly; or, in
touching soliloquy, he exclaims, “Poor Oliver, noble Oliver”—“Courage,
my brave one!”
And all along, between the Letters and Speeches, as readers well
remember, he has ready such a fresh top-of-the-morning salutation as
conjures up the spirits of those days, and men go marching over English
sward, not wired skeletons, but with firm, elastic muscles, and clang of
armor on their thighs, if they wore swords, or the twang of psalms and
canticles on their lips. His blunt, “Who are you?” put to the shadowy
ghosts of history, they vanish into deeper obscurity than ever. Vivid
phantasmagorian pictures of what is transpiring in England in the
meanwhile, there are, not a few, better than if you had been there to
see.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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