The admirable satire of Friendship’s Garland is constantly levelled against national aberrations in this direction.  In the year 1870 there was a fashionable divorce-case, more than usually scandalous, and the disgusting narrative had been followed with keen interest by those who look up at the Aristocracy as men look up at the stars.  In reference to this case, he quotes to his imaginary friend Arminius the noble sentiment of Barrow:  “Men will never be heartily loyal and submissive to authority till they become really good; nor will they ever be very good till they see their leaders such.”  To which Arminius replies, in his thoughtful manner:  “Yes, that is what makes your Lord C——­s so inexpressibly precious!” A certain Lord C——­, be it observed, having figured very conspicuously in the trial.

With reference to the enormous publicity given in England to such malefic matter, Arnold says to Arminius:  “When a Member of Parliament wanted to abridge the publicity given to the M——­ case, the Government earnestly reminded him that it had been the solemn decision of the House of Commons that all the proceedings of the Divorce Court should be as open as the day.  When there was a suggestion to hear the B——­ case in private, the upright magistrate who was appealed to said firmly that he could never trifle with the public mind in that manner.  All this was as it should be.  So far, so good.  But was the publicity in these cases perfectly full and entire?  Were there not some places which the details did not reach?  There were few, but there were some.  And this, while the Government has an organ of its own, the London Gazette, dull, high-priced, and of comparatively limited circulation!  I say, make the price of the London Gazette a halfpenny; change its name to the London Gazette and Divorce Intelligencer; let it include besides divorce news, all cases whatever that have an interest of the same nature for the public mind; distribute it gratis to mechanics’ institutes, workmen’s halls, seminaries for the young (these latter more especially), and then you will be giving the principle of publicity a full trial.  This is what I often say to Arminius; and, when he looks astounded, I reassure him with a sentence which, I know very well, the moment I make it public will be stolen by the Liberal newspapers.  But it is getting near Christmas-time, and I do not mind making them a present of it.  It is this:  The spear of freedom, like that of Achilles, has the power to heal the wounds which itself makes.”

In Friendship’s Garland, from the very structure of the book, his serious judgments have to be delivered by the mouth of his Prussian friend; and here is his judgment on our public concessions to pruriency—­“By shooting all this garbage on your public, you are preparing and assuring for your English people an immorality as deep and wide as that which destroys the Latin nations.”