Oh! what a clever person that Cockney was, who, travelling in the Aberdeen railroad carriage, after edifying the company with his remarks on various subjects, gave it as his opinion that Lieutenant P—–­ would, in future, be shunned by all respectable society!  And what a simple person that elderly gentleman was, who, abruptly starting, asked in rather an authoritative voice, “and why should Lieutenant P—–­ be shunned by respectable society?” and who, after entering into what was said to be a masterly analysis of the entire evidence of the case, concluded by stating, “that having been accustomed to all kinds of evidence all his life, he had never known a case in which the accused had obtained a more complete and triumphant justification than Lieutenant P—–­ had done in the late trial.”

Now the Cockney, who is said to have been a very foppish Cockney, was perfectly right in what he said, and therein manifested a knowledge of the English mind and character, and likewise of the modern English language, to which his catechist, who, it seems, was a distinguished member of the Scottish bar, could lay no pretensions.  The Cockney knew what the Lord of Session knew not, that the British public is gentility crazy, and he knew, moreover, that gentility and respectability are synonymous.  No one in England is genteel or respectable that is “looked at,” who is the victim of oppression; he may be pitied for a time, but when did not pity terminate in contempt?  A poor, harmless young officer—­but why enter into the details of the infamous case? they are but too well known, and if ever cruelty, pride, and cowardice, and things much worse than even cruelty, cowardice, and pride were brought to light, and, at the same time, countenanced, they were in that case.  What availed the triumphant justification of the poor victim?  There was at first a roar of indignation against his oppressors, but how long did it last?  He had been turned out of the service, they remained in it with their red coats and epaulets; he was merely the son of a man who had rendered good service to his country, they were, for the most part, highly connected—­they were in the extremest degree genteel, he quite the reverse; so the nation wavered, considered, thought the genteel side was the safest after all, and then with the cry of, “Oh! there is nothing like gentility,” ratted bodily.  Newspaper and public turned against the victim, scouted him, apologized for the—­what should they be called?—­who were not only admitted into the most respectable society, but courted to come, the spots not merely of wine on their military clothes, giving them a kind of poignancy.  But there is a God in heaven; the British glories are tarnished—­Providence has never smiled on British arms since that case—­oh!  Balaklava! thy name interpreted is net of fishes, and well dost thou deserve that name.  How many a scarlet golden fish has of late perished in the mud amidst thee, cursing the genteel service, and the genteel leader which brought him to such a doom.